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“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” he blusters.
“When I know more, I’ll be in touch,” I say, then slam the door behind him.
Fuck. I wipe the blood from my lip. I head into the bathroom and wash my face, then pat my lip dry. This isn’t going to look good after the announcement.
My phone rings again, and against my better judgment, I pick it up. “Are you fucking serious? You’re in love?” Romeo asks.
My shoulders sag. “Not you, too. Come on, she made it up.”
“She made it up?” Romeo repeats.
“Dad was just here, gave me a split lip, and told me he wished I was dead,” I say, changing the subject.
“What the fuck, man? Do you need me to come back and help you?” he asks.
“It’s all good, just, it’s been a morning, not how I thought it would go.”
“I can imagine. So, you had no idea this was the story?” he asks.
“No. Apparently, she had a meeting with Francesca, and they’ve concocted this story, making us out to modern-day versions of Romeo and Juliet.”
“I hope this doesn’t turn out the same way.” Romeo chuckles.
Not funny. I am not in the mood for this. “What the hell am I supposed to do with the world thinking we are star-struck lovers?” I ask.
“Hell knows. I’m going to assume they didn’t drop out of the race for Emerald Hotels?”
“No.”
“Guess you’re going to have to come up with another plan then.”
9
NATALIA
“You’re in love and married to Alessandro Conti?” Domingo squeals as I step onto the private plane for our trip to Paris. It takes everything in me to not roll my eyes. “How did you not tell me any of this? We just had lunch.” Then his eyes narrow. “Was he the man you were trying to make jealous at lunch?”
“Guilty,” I say, taking my seat beside him.
“You bitch. Urgh, Alessandro is so hot.” He sighs.
“He is, isn’t he?” I want to cringe with every fiber of my body, my stomach rolling at the words.
“I don’t understand how it happened. I thought you were seeing that footballer?”
“I was. I did that to hide the fact I was seeing Alessandro. Our families wouldn’t understand.”
“Of course, they wouldn’t, they hate each other. I still don’t know how you went from sneering looks at events to wedded bliss.” Domingo chuckles as his eyes narrow on me.
“Alcohol,” I joke—it’s not a lie. Domingo nods but I can tell he doesn’t seem to believe me. “Anyway, what’s the plan for today?” I ask, changing the subject.
“You think you can change the subject that easily? This is huge, babe. You got married to a very sexy enemy and now you want me to fill you in on what we are doing in Paris?” Dom asks, seemingly surprised by my lackluster enthusiasm about my new husband.
“What more do you want me to say? Alessandro is private, he isn’t into all this stuff,” I tell him, waving around the jet.
He frowns. “Please, that man was known around town as a party boy. He used to date models and attend all the best parties, he was a regular in the gossip magazines,” Dom says, reminding me of his past.
“And then his brother died.”
