“Is everything okay?” he asks.

Not wanting him to see the angst in my eyes, I pull the dress over my head, tossing it to the side before getting rid of the bra. My plan works, and his gaze quickly drops to my chest. Like a kid presented with a buffet of candy, he reaches out to the girls with eager hands, kneading them before playing with my tight nipples. He pushes my body gently onto the massive bed and leans over me, bringing one nipple to his hot mouth while his hand plays with the other.

I don’t know how long he spends lavishing my breasts with attention, but when he finally brings his face level to mine, I’m so close to the edge, one simple nudge will be enough to send me spiraling over.

He must have read the raw need in my gaze because he quickly jumps off the bed to retrieve a condom from the box on the nightstand. I’ve never seen a guy put protection on so fast in my life. Before I know it, Alistair is back between my legs. He brings one of them over his shoulder, rubbing the head of his cock against my entrance.

“Just a warning, Goldi. I might not be gentle,” he says gruffly.

“Good. Don’t.”

He enters me with a swift move, and I get lost in oblivion.

Alistair and I have sex three times before he collapses next to me, dead to the world. I, on the other hand, can’t fall asleep at all and decide to get out of bed just before sunrise. I pick up my clothes and put them on as quietly as I can, not wanting to wake him.

Once fully dressed, I take a moment to stare at Alistair’s sleeping form, committing every detail of his body to memory—the wide shoulders corded with muscles and the sexy ass that I made sure to scratch a little last night. But most importantly, I pay close attention to his face, partially hidden in the manner he’s sleeping, on his belly with one arm folded under his pillow. His expression is peaceful and vulnerable at the same time.

It’s hard not to caress his cheek, not to place a farewell kiss on his lips. But I can’t risk waking him up. I refuse to stay to say goodbye because I’m afraid if I do, I’ll beg him for more. It wasn’t part of the agreement. The rules don’t seem that important now, but I can’t get past the fear that he’ll reject me if I break them. So I won’t.

11

Chiara

After leaving Alistair in the silence of early morning, I don’t return to Villa Moretti. Most likely, everyone has headed home, and I must do the same to deal with my mother’s fury sooner rather than later.

I’m surprised she didn’t call me while I was with Alistair. Her silence doesn’t bode well. It means she’s thinking of a punishment that will hurt me deeply. I don’t regret my actions though. Spending the weekend with Alistair is something I will never forget. I connected with him on a deeper level than I ever thought was possible with any man, especially a stranger. I erroneously believed that this kind of rapport could only be built with time.

My heart is heavy when I park in front of my parents’ upscale building in Porta Romana. It’s lunchtime, and I hope Mom is out, eating with her snobby friends. But no sooner do I step out of the elevator onto my floor than I can hear Mom’s raised voice. She’s having an argument with Dad, and I bet a million euros it’s about me.

Taking a deep breath, I unlock the door and walk in. From the entry foyer, I can’t see much of the apartment, but if I could hear my mother’s voice in the hallway, my parents must be in the living room.

“Chiara, is that you?” my father asks.

“No, it’s a burglar here to rob you in broad daylight.”

With heavy steps and a heavier heart, I join them in the living room. Mom is standing, cradling a glass of whiskey in her hand. Her eyes spark with fury when they land on me.

“Where the hell have you been?” she asks.

“Spending the weekend with a friend. Max told you, didn’t he?”

Mom laughs without humor. “Do you mean slutting around with that American savage you found in the middle of the road?”

“Alistair is not a savage,” I grit out. “He has more class than you, Paola, and that weasel husband of hers.”

Mom takes a step forward. “How dare you speak to me that way?”

Dad stands up from his chair, getting between us. “Darling, calm down.” He turns to me. “Chiara, apologize to your mother. That was uncalled for.”

“Uncalled for? She’s the one who called me a slut.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “This silly war between you two is going to send me to an early grave.”

Dad believes my fights with Mom are because we’re too stubborn and similar. He couldn’t be more wrong. We argue because Mom is a bully, and if I don’t fight her from time to time, she’ll crush me until I can’t get up anymore.

“I’m sorry, Dad. You know Paola and I never got along. I didn’t think she wanted me around, and, well, I figured no one would miss me at the reception.”

“Sweetie, of course you were missed,” he replies with kind eyes.

“Don’t you dare go soft on Chiara now, Giovanni. She took off without a word to spend the weekend with a stranger. And she did that under our noses. How can we know she won’t do something worse living alone in America?”

A sliver of fear pierces my chest.

“I’ve never done anything reckless like that in my entire life.”

“So you say. Those are not the stories I’ve heard.”

I ball my hands into fists, digging my nails into the softness of my palms until it hurts. “Whatever rumors you heard are all lies.”

Her lips curl in a wicked grin. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And your actions this past weekend only reinforce that. Your trip to California is canceled. You’ll complete your final year of high school here in Milan where I can keep an eye on you.”

“What? You can’t do that.” My eyes fill with angry tears. “Do you know how hard it is to be accepted at DuBose High? It has one of the best programs in the country for anyone interested in a career in the film industry.”

“You should have thought about that before you pulled your latest stunt.”

I turn to Dad. “Did you agree with this?”

“Chiara, perhaps you should stay. I don’t want to worry about you while you are miles away from us.”

“This is such bullshit. You know I’m responsible. I’m the top student at All Saints.”

“I know, tesoro.”

Fuck. I knew Mom would aim for the punishment that hurt me the most, but I didn’t think she’d convince Dad to not let me attend DuBose in California. I’ve been looking forward to it since I started high school.

Nothing I can say will convince him to change his decision now that Mom poisoned his mind against me. There’s only one person who might have a shot, the one who triggered my flight response and sent me straight into Alistair’s loving arms.

Pietro.

I head to my room, locking the door to avoid an invasion by my mother. Then I call Pietro, hoping he’s not too distracted on his honeymoon.

He answers on the third ring. “Chiara, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I was so worried about you. You disappeared and… I know it was all my fault.”