Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
I smile dreamily. Oh, man, could this guy get any swoonier if he tried? “Only a bit fancier than me,” I add. From the back of my mind a little voice whispers
Slow down.
He smiles to himself as we continue up the driveway. At the top of the hill is a gigantic cream-colored house. It’s classically Italian. Out the front is a large, circular driveway with an undercover awning. It’s so grand, it looks like a hotel.
He parks the car undercover, and two men come out. Rico gets out of the car.
“Ciao, per favore, porta i bagagli di Olivia al piano di sopra.”
“Si, signore.”
Rico opens my door and grabs my hand to help me out. I smile nervously at the men.
“Ciao, Miss Olivia.” They nod in greeting.
“Hi.”
I look around at the opulent luxury. It’s like a movie. Sandstone pillars and marble floors and gorgeous hanging lanterns line the space. Large, impressive potted plants are positioned all around. I don’t know where to look first.
This place is out of this world. Next level, fucking insane.
“Come, my love.” Rici leads me up the stairs, where two lion statues sit proudly, guarding either side of the house. Gosh, this place is like ancient Rome. We go up onto the sandstone terrace, and in through the large double doors. I look up in awe as we pass through them. They would have to stand thirty-feet tall, and they’re black with a big gold knocker on each one.
Enrico watches me, and I tighten my cardigan around my shoulders.
“You’re very quiet,” he says. He smiles softly. “Thoughts?”
I have no words in my head—none that will make sense, anyway.
This doesn’t look like a house. It looks like a national museum.
“It’s… big.”
He smiles and continues to lead me through the foyer. It has a gorgeous fawn-colored marble floor, and a huge staircase that splits in two on the first floor, dividing into two wings of the house.
“Say something.”
“This is… I… you… I mean…” I sigh.
A door opens to the left and, a man and woman come out in a rush. They’re in their early fifties, at a guess.
“Rico.” The man smiles happily.
Enrico’s face lights up. He grabs the man in an embrace. It’s obvious he is close to him.
“Ciao, Manuel.” He presents me to the two of them. “Olivia, please meet Manuel and his lovely wife Antonia. They look after this house while I’m not here. They have a home on the property.”
“Hi.” I smile nervously.
“Questa è olivia, viene a vivere qui, d'ora in poi riferirai a lei” Rico says as he gestures to me.
Their faces fall.
“Please meet my Olivia,” Rico translates for me.
The woman claps her hands together before she takes me into her arms. “Hello, hello,” she cries.
The man kisses both of my cheeks. “Hello, bella Olivia.”
“Hello.” I smile. My eyes dart to Rico nervously. I don’t know what he just said to them, but they seem awfully happy about it. Manuel holds me at arm’s length as he looks me up and down. “You look like a beautiful…” He hesitates as he searches for the right word. “Asshole.”
“Angel,” Rico corrects him.
I laugh and put my hands over my mouth.
Rico laughs out loud, as if that’s the funniest thing he has ever heard. Well, it kind of is. I can be a real asshole.
“Hai appena detto che era uno stronzo,” Rico says to them.
Their faces fall as they realize what Manual has just said to me.
“Oh, no, no, no. Sorry, so sorry.” Manuel slaps himself across the face, and his wife and I laugh.
“Andremo subito a letto. Ci vediamo domani,” Rico says.
“Si, si, buonanotte, piacere di conoscerti, Miss Olivia.” Antonia smiles before they disappear.
“They said goodnight,” Rico tells me.
“Buonanotte,” I say, feeling proud of the two words I do know.
Rico’s eyes glow with affection, and he leans in to kiss me softly.
“Are you hungry, my love? Do you want a drink or anything?”
“No.” I look at our opulent surroundings. I feel everything but hungry.
Out of place? Hell yeah. I feel that and then some. But hungry? No.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Let’s go upstairs.”
He takes my suitcase and I follow him up the grand staircase, where we veer off to the right. The balustrade is a chunky dark timber, and the carpet is a deep crimson tapestry; the kind you see in exotic movies. We walk down a long, wide corridor, and then through a double set of timber doors.
Holy shit.
It’s a huge bedroom, with an already lit fireplace in it. It has two big armchairs and a couch in front of it. At the back is a large four-poster, king size bed.
“This is your wardrobe in here,” Rico says as he pulls my suitcase in through the door. I follow him, and it leads to another room. The walls are all mirrored with black floor-to-ceiling wardrobes. There is also a pink, velvet ottoman couch. A beautiful chandelier hangs low in the middle over a large mirrored chest of drawers.