Defending this pile of stone wasn’t a responsibility that should ever be on his shoulders.
Olivia nodded and walked out the door like a soldier.
For a moment the room was eerily quiet. Clara broke the spell around him when she said, “Your sister isn’t like I thought.”
She was different. Olivia was stronger than him. It was so clear to him. “Olivia was always like our mom. I thought you’d both get along. I wanted her to stay but I didn’t want to guilt her anymore into staying. Her leaving though, it feels too fast.”
“She can always come home when she’s ready. Maybe she just needs a break.” Clara patted his shoulder and motioned toward the door as she said, “I hope she finds real love one day.”
He stilled. His father had been a coward. He'd murdered the sweetest woman in the world because… he couldn’t handle that one day he might transform like that and hurt his wife too.
And if Clara left him would he slowly rot as well? At what point did he become his father? “What if Max didn’t turn her crazy because he wasn’t really in her heart?”
Clara blinked. “What are you saying?”
She was sweet, beautiful, and had no idea the monster he truly was. He opened the door and his blood ran cold. “I’m just saying that love for the Manfredi family is a bad idea.”
In the middle of the great room where anyone might come or staff might hear she asked, “Are you afraid of love, Astorre?”
Of course she didn’t know that the castle was built for everyone to hear them here.
He lowered his head so their foreheads touched and whispered, “Yes.”
Her eyes widened but she didn’t pull away. She placed her hand on his heart as she asked, “Even with me?”
The beat of her heart made his want to find a different rhythm, one that followed hers. “You terrify me.”
Her mouth quivered. “Me?”
He let out a sigh and his lips ached for her kiss, the only truly good thing he had in his life. “Yeah. I never want to hurt you.”
She closed her eyes and lifted her mouth. “You can’t.”
Innocence was better than ruination. He claimed her lips. Only in Clara’s embrace could he take what he wanted. She shouldn’t let him, but he’d take everything she offered.
Without asking, he reached under her knees to pick her up and said, “Let’s get out of here. Breakfast can wait.”
She laughed like she was happy.
He’d do everything to keep her that way--she never needed to know the truth about him and who he truly was inside. If she did, she’d hate him.
Chapter 12
If every night of being married to Astorre were like the past few then Clara's time as an unfortunate soul was over.
Though she probably wouldn't walk right, but that was fine.
She left the shower and dressed in another knee-length skirt and blouse; the skirt was olive green and the button-down of the day was black.
Astorre returned to their room with coffees on a tray. She took the cup and kissed his cheek then went in search of her black flats. She pointed toward the window with her head. “The fog is back.”
He placed the tray of food on a side table as he said, “It’s never really gone here.”
Right now she was too happy to actually eat. She finished her coffee and put her cup down. “It’s a good thing you have a castle then. I’d like to see the town.”
He grabbed his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll summon umbrellas.”
“Later.” She waved him off and picked up a small raspberry tart, popping it in her mouth.
