by Bella J.
I bit the inside of my mouth, not knowing if it was anger, resentment, or regret that flooded through me like a storm powerful enough to wreck everything in its path. Why did I feel this way? Why did her standing there, so vulnerable and alone, do something to me on the inside? But after what Darion said tonight, implying we were the same, it woke a new determination for me to not be like him.
I grabbed a towel and sauntered over to her, the ball of her cheeks a rosy pink. “Here.” I handed her the towel, and I noticed her hesitate for a second before taking it from me. With a deep breath, I reached out, gently easing a wet curl behind her ear, my heart beating stronger at the touch. It wasn’t something I ever felt before and immediately pulled back. “I won’t touch you again.” I lowered my voice. “Not unless you ask me to.”
With those words hanging like a shadow over us, I walked away, leaving her behind. I had to. I couldn’t linger out of fear I might do something—something I’d regret more. But as I walked away, I knew what I had to do even if it broke every goddamn relationship I held dear…keep my brother away from my wife.
Chapter Fifteen
Gian never came to bed that night. Part of me felt relieved, while another part of me hoped he would so we could talk things through. I wasn’t exactly sure why I thought talking to Gian would help. The man was stubborn, infuriating, and there was no negotiating with him about anything.
A few days passed, and we only saw each other at the breakfast table, then again at lunch. I assumed he slept in another bedroom, which was odd since he had me move into his so we could keep up appearances in front of his brother.
Darion was still there, smiling and talking, trying to be supportive. But I kept my distance, heeding Gian’s warning. I spent most of my day walking around the garden thinking of all the changes I’d make to it, all the different flowers I’d plant. I created an entire oasis of color in my head, a garland of the most vibrant blooms, imagining how it would be to spend my days surrounded by the beauty nature had to offer.
The afternoon sun beamed down, and I could feel the vitamin D soak into my pores. The white peony I swirled between my fingers reminded me of our wedding and how drastically my life had changed since that day.
“You like the garden.”
I looked up at Gian, who stood a few feet from me, wearing a pair of navy pants with a light blue shirt. I had to admit the shade of blue accentuated his olive skin, and his hair seemed even darker. Broad shoulders, strong arms with his sleeves rolled up, and thick thighs hugged perfectly with his pants’ fabric.
I glanced at the flower in my hand and back up at him. “I do.”
“I know most women love flowers, but you,” he sauntered closer, “you seem to have a deep appreciation for them.”
“I’ve always loved flowers.” I twirled the peony stem between my fingers. “The different colors, shapes, sizes. And how each type of flower has its own unique scent.”
“You miss your garden back home?”
I pressed my lips together and looked up at him, the sun shining brightly, causing me to shut one eye. “We don’t have much of a garden back home. Well, we used to. But my dad renovated the house a few years back, and in the process, decided that his own golf course would be far more entertaining for him and his guests.”
We stood a few feet away from each other, and I could see a flash of anger in his eyes by the mere mention of my father. “So, he took the one thing his own daughter loved and turned it into something as trivial as a golf course.”
“It’s his estate.” I tried to act with indifference. “I suppose he can do whatever he wants with it.”
“And what is it you want?” He scoffed. “Let me rephrase that. What is it that you wanted before…this?”
I glanced at him from under my lashes. “Why the sudden interest?”
“Just curious,” he replied nonchalantly.
“Well,” a soft breeze ruffled through my hair, and I tucked curls behind my ear, “I’ve always wanted to be a florist, have my own little flower shop.”
He snickered. “A florist?”
“Yes, a florist.” I smiled and gently touched a petal of the peony in my hand. “Too often, people overlook the importance of flowers. It’s nature’s art, and the hues are good for our souls. Think about it. We take them to the sick, decorate hospital rooms with their colors. We send them to express our love, sympathy, friendship. We place flowers on graves while we mourn the loss of loved ones. I can’t imagine a world without flowers.”
Gian stood unmoved, the sun highlighting his all-year-round tan, creating golden specks in his irises. “Why didn’t you?’
“What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you become a florist?”
I looked down at my toe, feeling the lush grass beneath my bare feet. “As you know, I’ve never had the luxury of choosing my own path. Being a florist wasn’t part of my father’s plan for me.”
“But I was.” It wasn’t a question, and there was a slight twinge of remorse in the tenor of his voice.
“It is what it is.” I dropped my hands to my sides, taken aback by the sudden weight our conversation had carried. It wasn’t easy for me to talk about things I couldn’t change—things I wanted but could never have simply because I had been born into a family who valued wealth and power more than happiness.
Silence stretched for miles between us, and I found myself wanting to know what kind of thoughts ran through his mind. What did he think of me now that he knew the pathetic dream of a naïve little rich girl?
His gaze raked across the greenery and trees, the subtle breeze touching the ends of his hair. “I haven’t quite gotten around to doing anything with this garden.” His eyes met mine, and something passed between us. A moment. A breath. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I felt it trickle along my flesh like the subtle breeze that wafted through my loose curls. “You think you can handle renovating the garden?”
Excitement popped like tiny little bubbles inside my belly. “Are you serious?”
“Let Gabriela know what you need, and I’ll make sure you get it.” He turned, but I called after him.
“Gian.”
He paused.
“Where have you been sleeping?”
He turned to face me. “What does it matter?”
“It’s just that was the whole reason for me moving into your bedroom, was it not? To keep up appearances in front of your brother. And now you’re—”
“My study,” he interrupted. “For all Darion knows, I’m just in there all night working.”
“Oh. Okay.” I shifted from one leg to the other, and Gian glanced out across the garden. It was almost like he wanted to say something, sorting through his thoughts to find the words, but then decided against it and turned to walk away.
I twirled the flower between my fingers. “Thank you.”
He paused without looking my way.
“For the garden.”
Birds sang in the distance, complemented with the sound of the breeze blowing through the trees.
He glanced over his shoulder and simply nodded before walking off.
I just stood there, watching after him, surprised by his sudden act of kindness—if it even was that. We had hardly talked for days, and out of the blue, he offers me something I’d been dreaming about. A project. An escape. Why would he do that? If he still hated me as passionately as he did since the wedding, why would he show me anything but trails of his loathing?
To say Gian was a complicated man would be the understatement of the year. There was no way to predict his one move to the next. But I chose to appreciate the moment and relish the excitement of finally doing something constructive with my time.
That entire afternoon consisted of taking notes, scribbling down ideas, making lists of flowers I’d like to plant.
From vibrant yellow marigolds to dainty white yarrows to add a touch of elegance. Scented geraniums and hyacinths should be planted close to the deck by the pool so guests cou
ld appreciate the floral aroma. The possibilities were endless, and my excitement was palpable. It was precisely the kind of distraction I needed from everything.
“So, this is where you’ve been hiding?”
I added hibiscus flowers to my list and looked up as Darion walked my way. Unlike his brother, he was more casually dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a white shirt, his hair wet and disheveled as if he had just taken a swim.
I smiled. “I’m not hiding, just making notes.”
“Of?” He stepped in next to me and peered over my shoulder at my notebook.
“Gian gave me the go-ahead to upgrade our garden here.”
Darion frowned in surprise. “He did?”
“Yeah. I’m quite excited.”
He rubbed the stubble of his five o’clock shadow as if deep in thought.
I studied him. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. It’s just weird since he’s never cared about a garden.”
“I don’t think he’s given me this little project because he cares about the garden.”
He cocked a brow. “You don’t think he’s doing it because he cares about you?”
“God, no,” I objected. “I’m not that naïve. I just think he wants me to keep myself busy.”
“To keep you out of his hair?”
I shrugged. “Probably.”
“Well,” Darion picked one of the white daisies, “if you were my wife, I wouldn’t be giving you any type of project just to keep you at a distance.” He reached out, his fingertips brushing gently against my cheek as he tucked the flower behind my ear. “I’d want all your attention all the time.” His hand lingered, his eyes searching deep as if he wanted to find my soul.
I broke eye contact first, looking down at the grass beneath my bare feet. “Darion, I don’t—”
“Hey,” he lifted my chin with his fingers, “I’m just saying my brother’s an asshole for avoiding you like this. You shouldn’t have to hide out here every day, all day.”
“I’m not.” I pursed my lips and took a slight step back. “I just like it out here. It reminds me of all the times Alessa and I would play outside. Carefree, with not a worry in the world.”
“I love it when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Whenever you talk about the memories of your sister, you have this half-smile on your face. It’s beautiful.”
My cheeks burned, and I absentmindedly tucked a curl behind my ear, my fingers brushing against the velvet daisy petals.
There was a sudden gust of wind, and I grabbed my dress, dropping the notebook in the process. Darion launched forward and caught the book, accidentally bumping into me, both of us falling back and onto the lush grass. I shrieked, and a rush of air escaped me as gravity pulled Darion’s weight on top of me, daisy petals showering down around us.
“Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I chuckled, and he joined in when he realized I wasn’t hurt.
“That was unexpected.” He lifted himself on his elbows, and I tried to look anywhere except at him. But the moment dragged a second too long, and I had to look him in the eye. I could see wind-stirred waves in his irises, a flash of desire he no longer masked. Not when we were this close.
I couldn’t look away, and I couldn’t find my words. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of his body on top of my mine—every muscle, every curve, the gentle warmth of his breath against my cheek. It was a moment one could easily get lost in. A moment where you could lose track of reality, erase everything around you and just drift farther and farther into the abyss of one. Single. Moment.
Darion shifted, a slow descent of his lips toward mine. My stomach coiled tight, and I held my breath, the dark swirls of his eyes pulling me deeper.
Somewhere in the distance, a window shutter slammed shut, and reality came crashing down. I quickly shot upright, getting on my feet, and brushing the grass from my dress. “We should get inside.” Without waiting for him, I made my way toward the house, my cheeks burning and mind spinning.
“Daniela, wait up.”
I didn’t. I couldn’t. Whatever was happening between Darion and me, it was racing toward a line that could never be crossed. Ever.
“Daniela.” He grabbed my elbow and spun me around, but I jerked free.
“I am married to your brother, Darion.”
“I know. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean…I got carried away. Jesus.” He let out a breath and pulled his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. But I think…we just need some distance, okay?”
“Daniela—”
I didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence, rushing toward the house, suddenly needing the confines of the four walls that had been more like a prison than a home to me…until today.
Darion has been nothing but nice to me since we met. Kind. Warm. And pleasant to be around. The opposite of his brother, who had become so good at giving me the cold shoulder ever since he vowed not to touch me again. At least not until I asked him to.
Gabriela placed two large platters of food on the table out on the deck and smiled when she saw me approach. “Mr. Silvestro requested I serve dinner outside tonight.”
“Oh, wow.” I scanned the plates of food, the table lined with delicacies. “This looks delicious, Gabriela.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Silvestro. I’ve prepared a special vegetarian platter just for you with marinated grilled peppers. Zucchini, eggplant, and some pesto cream cheese.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Even if Mr. Silvestro didn’t request it, I still would have prepared something for you.”
“Wait.” I frowned. “He requested you make a special platter for me?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “He also asked for a bottle of chardonnay from his special collection.”
“He did?” I was sure a giant question mark flashed on my forehead.
She smiled and winked, then trotted off toward the kitchen.
What the hell was going on? First the garden, then the request to prepare a special meal for me, and then the bottle of wine. What was happening?
“Wow.” Darion stepped in next to me, and I sucked in a breath when I felt him so close. “Is my brother planning a party he didn’t tell us about?”
“A party would require more than two people.”
Darion and I looked at Gian, who stood by the giant archway that led to the house, his blue shirt accentuating his eyes’ color up close.
“We’re three,” Darion held out his arms, “so I guess it’s a party, then.”
“No.” Gian stepped closer, his expression unreadable as he leveled Darion with his stare. “I’m afraid you’re not invited, little brother. This is for my wife and me. Alone.” His expression was tight, inscrutable as he looked at Darion.
Just like the sudden gust of wind that had Darion and me end up in a dangerous and uncomfortable situation, all three of us were instantaneously pulled into an environment heavy and tight with tension. I was almost too afraid to breathe, watching the two Silvestro brothers in the middle of a mighty stare-off. A silent battle of titans.
Darion was the first the break the deafening silence. “Well, luckily, I already have plans for this evening. So, if you’ll excuse me.” Dark eyes flashed as he glanced in my direction, a split second of recognition before he stomped off, leaving Gian and me alone.
God, as if I needed any more complications in my life. But I did breathe a little easier knowing Darion wasn’t in such close proximity.
I pulled a hairband from my wrist and started to tie my hair in a messy ponytail. “What is all this?”
Our eyes met, and I froze. The way he stared at me, his gaze fixed, his expression unreadable. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him look at me that way. It was almost like…like the hate was gone.
My heart squeezed as he stalked closer, and I held my breath. I wasn’t sure whether it was fear, uncertainty, or anticipation that
sang in my blood as he stilled before me, his Italian leather shoes touching my bare toes. I didn’t want to look away, his stare so intense I felt it caress every bone.
He slanted his head to the side, studying me as if he saw me for the very first time, scrutinizing my every feature. My skin tingled, heat spreading across every inch.
He reached up, and I sucked in a breath, a moment of weakness as fear broke through the surface and I recoiled. Instantly, he paused, eyes fixed on mine before he slowly reached back and gently eased the hairband down so my curls could fall free.
“I like it when you wear your hair down.” His voice was soft, gentle, but not any less intimidating.
There was no way to tell what was happening, and the moment felt as surreal as when I walked down the aisle toward a man I didn’t know—just like the man who stood in front of me now.
My husband.
Chapter Sixteen
I had spent days watching her as she walked through the garden. Each day was the same. She would start down the cobbled pathway leading from the house down the middle of the garden and spend time studying the trumpet vine that grew around a steel arch where the path split in two. The trumpet vine was about the only color the garden had, the bold orange touching the evergreen landscape with its vibrance.
After that, she’d make her way down the path that led to the right where there was absolutely nothing to see. Nothing but alder trees and the stray leaves drifting in the breeze.
I wondered what I would discover if I could read her mind during those moments. What kind of person was she while alone with nothing but her thoughts?
Under the glowing sun, her hair looked like it had been kissed by the gods, her flawless pale skin the perfect contradiction against the yellow rays. Every day she would wear a floral print dress, the hem touching the skin just above her knee. It suited her.
Fiore. Flower.
I had no idea when it happened, when I started seeing more than Moretti blood whenever I looked at her. Maybe it was the night I found her laughing with my brother, playing in the pool as if she hadn’t a care in the world. The night I had hurt her in a way that had the power to break her. But she didn’t. Daniela didn’t break. In fact, she seemed stronger now than ever.