Saint Valentine

11

"But you can't prepare for that," I assure him. "There's no way you can prepare every possible scenario. We don't know what their plan is. We can try to figure it out, but there's only so much we can do."

"They aren't open to negotiations at the moment, either, so truly we're left with strategizing and responding — trying to limit the damage."

"How long do you think it will last?"

"We'll have it handled within the month. We won't let it drag out too long."

"I feel so bad," I say. "Like it's my fault."

"It's not," he shuts his laptop. "She's unreasonable. There's no need to respond this way. It was bound to happen. This is just the easiest excuse."

"But still," I insist. "124 people have died already. 124."

"I know, it's a lot," he places his hand on top of mine, his expression softening. "I promise it will be over soon, and we can start planning our wedding."

"Yeah?" I smile. "You sound confident."

"I am. I'm very confident."

And he should be.

******

Sicily is beautiful. The hills, the sea, the sun... gorgeous. It took us two hours to drive from the plane hangar to the safe house, and it certainly does feel safe. It's an isolated villa built into a mountain, with only the living room and outdoor area visible from outside. It looks out over the water below. The waves crash up against the cliffs, but we're up so high, they'd never be able to reach us. The villa itself looks just the same as every other classic Sicilian villa — with white walls, brown tiles, and stone archways. The pool looks more than appealing in the 100-degree temperatures. I haven't had a chance to go for a swim, though.

As soon as we arrived, Valentino headed to the conference room for a meeting. He's basically been working non-stop since this morning — or actually, since the package was sent to the compound. He took a few breaks during the flight, but he barely had any rest. I spent hours asleep on the way here. Hopefully, he'll come to bed tonight. I've already seen our room and its far too big to be sleeping in alone

Seth gave me a tour of the house and ran me through all the safety measures. There are cameras everywhere and men surveilling the home 24/7. There are three different bunkers underneath the home, and more escape routes than I can count, including a helicopter pad. There are weapons hidden throughout the whole house and secret alarms all over the place. He even gave me a silent alarm to wear as a bracelet.

I don't know where he is now. He left me out here, by the pool, waiting for Valentino to join me for dinner. The table is filled with all kinds of food. We may be in hiding, but we're still getting catered to. Part of me wants to join the others inside. I can hear them talking and laughing while I'm out here waiting. I shouldn't be complaining, it hasn't been long, and this view is to die for. The sun is setting in the distance, an orange glow reflecting off the water. It's beautiful. This is what I'd want from a holiday. And it basically is. We're not just hiding out for our safety, we're escaping to the most peaceful place on earth.

"Bianca?" Valentino makes me jump. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's okay. I was just distracted," I say. "This place is so nice. It's a paradise."

"I'm glad you like it," he sits down across from me. He's still in the same outfit he wore on the plane. His hair is still in place, but bags are beginning to form under his eyes. "Did you find everything alright?"

"Yeah, Seth showed me around. I started unpacking but I didn't want to get too settled. Do you have any idea how long we'll be here for?"

"Until we have a truce, which will take at least another week by the looks of things."

"Okay," I nod. "Is everything going alright? You look tired."

"It'll be okay," he pours us both a glass of wine before looking up to meet my eyes. "I won't be as busy tomorrow. I thought we could spend some time together if you'd like?"

"I would like that," I smile. "It's been a while."

"I'm sorry about that. I'm sure you can understand I've been busy given the circumstances, but I have to apologise for not managing it in the right way. I wasn't sure how you would handle the situation, and I was hesitant to tell you about Isabella."

"It's okay," I assure him. "She must not have been the nicest person to be courting."

"She was... quite harsh and strident. She lacked compassion for others, and that would not be appropriate for our family."

"How long were you with her for?"

"Less than a month. I had no interest in her."

"But she was interested in you?"

"I don't think so, no. She only wanted our territory."

"That couldn't have been a loving relationship, then."

"Precisely," he nods. We've both started eating by now.

"I'm glad you told me the truth about her."

"So am I. I was hesitant. I knew it would lead to the truth about my interest in you."

"It's definitely flattering," I don't think anything could wipe the grin off my face. "I wish you had told me earlier. It would've changed my perspective on things."

"The first night we spoke, you struggled to believe my choice had nothing to do with your family. Is that still the case?"

"It's definitely starting to ease off. I was mostly just surprised you picked me over someone like Gianna, who I'd think is more appropriate."

"I don't think she is more appropriate," he says. "Regardless, I care more about connection than I do appropriateness."

We definitely have a connection. I always thought it was just me crushing on him like all the girls do, but it's more than that. It's mutual. I'm drawn to him, and he's drawn to me.

"You're lucky I haven't been swept up yet," I tease. "I almost got married, you know?"

"Oh, I'm well aware. I wasn't happy about it, either. That's when I agreed to begin courting Isabella."

"Well, I'm glad we both failed at our arrangements," I laugh.

"Are you?" his words are heavier than they sound.

"I am," I insist. "I agree with you. I think we have a connection, and I'd like to explore it more with you."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"And now our story is even more romantic," I shoot him a sheepish grin. His eyes fill with amusement.

"You love romance, don't you?"

"I do! I don't just want a relationship. I want love — the Taylor Swift type of life, that's fun and exciting and makes your heart want to explode."

"That's good to know," he laughs. "I've been holding back."

"No, you haven't," I wave him off. "We've definitely hit some roadblocks, but the good times have been really good."

Like when he unpacked my things because he was worried I would leave, or when he cooked me dinner to make it up to me, or when he had my cat brought over even though he hates pets.

"You've seen nothing yet," he says. "If it were up to me, you'd be carrying my kid by now."

"Oh my god, stop," I laugh. "We've been over this! You can't say stuff like that to me!"

"I thought you liked it," he jokes. "It makes you excited, doesn't it?"

"Stop!" I warn. I swear this man is going to drive me nuts.