***
Fuck, fuck, fuck. My mind can barely comprehend what Ant is yelling at me through my phone.
Social media photos of Tori and I hugging outside my apartment.
And now my father has announced my engagement to Lucia in the Italian media.
I have to speak to Tori—explain everything before she sees any of this bullshit. The thought that she already has is like a dagger to my heart.
I hate the paparazzi. This is why I’d been hiding out at the hotel. They never leave me the fuck alone when I’m in Manhattan. I really thought with my time away in Italy that my personal life would be of no importance to anyone. But I guess I was wrong.
“I have to go. I’ll call you later,” I interrupt Ant midway through his continuing tirade.
I don’t need him telling me I’m an idiot for kissing Tori goodbye yesterday morning in public.
“Don’t you fucking hang up on me, G,” Ant rages.
My temper rises to boiling point. I’m done with being the supposedly calm brother of the family. I grip my cell so tight in my palm that it digs into my skin, and I welcome the pain.
“Ant, shut the fuck up. I don’t want to marry Lucia because I’m in love with another woman. But I can’t tell her that until this whole fucking mess is sorted out. That’s if she’ll even talk to me again after I tell her I just became engaged.” I take a deep breath to slow my racing heart before continuing, “Right now, I have to go and speak to Tori before she reads any of this online. So I’ll call you later.”
I disconnect, not bothering to wait for his reply. At this point, I don’t want to hear anything from any of my brothers who are currently blowing up our group chat. There’s only one person I need to speak to, and that’s my priority.
My call with Tori is short as I ask her to meet me at The Vice Club. It’s neutral ground, and at this time of day, we can be assured of privacy. No photographers lying in wait to snap a photo they can use to spread more rumors with.
***
Now that she’s here, sitting next to me in the deserted VIP bar, all the words I practiced in my head have disappeared.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. I can feel her eyes boring into me as I focus on how perfect her delicate fingers are when entwined with mine on the seat between us.
“There’s something I have to tell you before I leave.”
“You’re going already?” she asks, slumping back into the chair.
“You know I need to return to Italy for business?”
She nods, and I continue, “There’s another reason I need to return.”
“Go on,” she encourages, but her eyes narrow on me.
“My father wants me to marry a family friend’s daughter, and it’s been leaked in the Italian media that we’re engaged.”
“You’re engaged?” she gasps, dropping my hand like it’s a hot rock. “What the fuck have you been doing with me, then?”
I reach for her hand, but she pulls hers back, hiding them both in the fold of her arms.
“Don’t,” she warns before springing to her feet.
“Tori, listen to me. I have no intention of marrying Lucia.”
Her mouth gapes but just as quickly snaps shut again. “Does Lucia know about me?”
“No. Why would she?”
She steps back, widening the distance between us. And when I stand, she holds up her hands to hold me back.
“Gio, I don’t want to be a part of whatever you have going on with this woman, Lucia.”
