Page 46 of The Man with a Treasure

Once in the clear, my mouth opened. Then it closed.

Sal and I were busted.

Cristian started pacing again. “I’m not shooting these kids.”

Sal tilted his head in a comedic manner. “Er… Thank you?”

Pietro rubbed a palm down his face. “But someone will be ordered to if this is revealed.”

After that time, I knew our secret was safe with Pietro and Cristian. Now, it was up to me and Sal to not appear guilty. Every time Noemi tried to speak to us about anything personal, we walked away.

It was awful.

Walking away from the girl who had turned us into men was like no longer appreciating the sun. Not being exposed to that light, my heart became cold. And, since I believed the Devil was made of ice, I worried for my soul. It felt like it was blowing away in the cruel wind of a marriage. Not only did I have to witness Noemi marry a man I felt was a scoundrel, but I had to fear for her wellbeing. I was convinced Mateo would be abusive and make her life full of nothing but regret.

The one thing I didn’t expect was for Mateo to get lost in Noemi’s magic. It wasn’t only me and Sal that wasn’t immune to it. It wasn’t only me and Sal who she would transform into men.

Within months, the spoiled brat became a man that I started to respect. He doted on Noemi’s every whim. She was the light he chased, no expense spared. Even when she asked for her own home.

Loading boxes into a moving van, I dared to tell Mateo, “You are a lucky man.”

He smiled so genuinely, I felt it in my bones. “She makes me view the world in a different way. Does that make sense?”

I swallowed, believing I was completely aware of his meaning. “I believe you do the same for her. That woman floats on a cloud of happiness.”

Unbelievably, his grand smile grew. “I never knew such a statement would mean something to me,” he rubbed his chest, “but it does.”

Bittersweet it was to watch that young woman fall in love with someone else. But watching her practically skipping out of the house, back in blue jeans and her natural beauty, I found peace in my heart. As she wrapped her arms around Mateo from behind and squeezed him with all her might, Mateo offered me his hand. “Thank you for helping us.” Though he was completely unaware of how much he had just helped me.

We shook as I told him, “Never let her go.”

He pulled her to his chest, shocked to see her tears. “Why are you crying?”

I knew those tears of joy were for me. Noemi no longer had to fear I would try to save her. Smiling, she cried to her husband, “You bought me my own home. Am I not allowed to be happy?”

His lips pressed to lips I had kissed so many times. “You can be anything you want to be.”

As if I were in some sort of romantic movie, I waved goodbye as they pulled away, thankful Noemi was no longer in direct reach of Mr. Giordano. At least one of us was having a happy time in our life. Mine was about to get worse.

I didn’t bother looking at Sal as he ran up to me.

I already knew what was coming.

The beginning of an end.

It was tough on Sal, but he understood when I announced I would be moving into my father’s home. The inevitable was approaching, and my father, whether he wanted to admit it or not, would soon be needing my full care. Once he stopped working to focus on his health, it deteriorated at a rapid rate. I didn’t want him to feel like a charity case, so at the age of nineteen, I properly asked for permission to move into his spare bedroom.

It was a quiet but powerful moment. He hadn’t lived with me since I was so young, and was denied after I had bonded with the Rossi family. Now a man, by most accounts, my father welcomed me into his home.

With my black Ferrari loaded with a collection of suits and the suitcase I arrived with years ago, I drove the ten-minute walk across the Giordano property to my father’s little cottage.

At first, it was slightly awkward, but my father and I soon found our way.

Every night, I got a phone call from my best friend. Sal chuckled over my receiver, “I actually appreciate this phone now.”

“English, Sal.” We had to practice the language because, someday, we would be traveling to find Scarlett.

He grumbled but complied, still sounding a tad challenged with pronunciations. “This confusing language has no Rossi flow. How American men get sex is beyond me.”