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But it still takes another moment before I reach the inevitable conclusion.
I'm in one of the yacht's private suites.
The kind that only the Marchettis and their VIPs have access to.
And that's why I knowI'mnot supposed to be here, causing trouble!
The realization has me sitting up in shock, and a punishing jolt of pain instantly strikes my temples.
"Don't make any sudden moves."
It's that voice again. But the tone this time is firm and commanding.
A Marchetti, I think right away.
But which one?
It doesn't sound like Giancarlo, Cesare, or Massimo.
That only leaves the one member of thefamigliaI've yet to meet.
"I'm so sorry...signore."My voice turns small as I open my eyes and find my gaze immediately captured by Ezio Marchetti's.
He's the youngest ofLa Strega's grandsons.
And I get it now.
Why everyone says he's the hottest—-
Because he is,I think dazedly.
He's let his hair grow longer compared to the other Marchettis; it reminds me of Timothée Chalamet in Little Women, and the loose, unruly waves make me realize that I've been quite unfair towards romance authors.
I honestly thought they were also lying about a woman's fingers itching in their desire to run their hands through a man's locks. But I know now it's the truth, with myself as the mortifying proof of this.
"Stai bene?" Are you alright?
I know I'm supposed to say 'yes', but my mind is too preoccupied with how impossibly beautiful he is, and my eyes can't stop gobbling up every detail about him. Why are his lashes so long? Why are his cheeks so perfectly sculpted and his lips so kissable, andaaaaargh.
What's happening to me?
Horror and confusion make my head pound harder. I almostdrowned,so why am I spending so much time obsessing over this man? Is this because I'm in shock?
My mind scrambles for an explanation, but I don't know how to explain it. Ezio Marchetti mesmerizes me in a way I can't articulate, and worse is how my eyes are still not done perusing every inch of him.
He really is the most beautiful of them all,I can't help thinking dumbly.
Even when he has the same height, the same build, the same dark hair, and bronze skin as his brothers, it's as if Ezio has that elusive X factor, a 'je ne sais quoi' kind of appeal that everyone desires to have, but only the rare few are born with.
If this were a fairytale, Ezio would no doubt play 'Beauty' while I'm...neither Beast nor Gaston. You probably won't even hear my name mentioned since I'd likely be cast as one of the background pieces of furniture that also talks but never earns any screentime.
There's just something about how every inch of this man has been sculpted and chiseled together that makes him different...and the mostmysterious.
And that's another thing I can't explain.
He just feels soenigmatic, for some reason.
Maybe it's those dark, dark eyes of his, with how he's been observing me all this time without giving anything away.
