King of Stars (The Next Generation #2)

25. Stella

Chapter 25

Stella

W e had breakfast with Matteo’s family after he carried me back to his parents’ villa. Matteo loaded up my plate with food and even fed me a few bites as we talked about the wedding, or weddings, since we still planned on doing the one on New Year’s Eve. I thought everyone would freak out about the short time we had, but everyone seemed to be game for it. Scarlett and Mia especially. Matteo said he had a surprise for me, though, and the details of the wedding could be planned after we got back.

The one thing we had decided on before we left was, the wedding was going to take place at his mom and dad’s villa, or farmhouse. (Villa. Farmhouse. I used the two terms almost interchangeably. They both seemed to fit.) A deconsecrated church was on the property. The reception would follow outside. Family politics would be involved, since Matteo would be taking over after Rocco retired, but again, he said we could talk about it later.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about surprises yet, but I was starting to move toward…loving them! The way Matteo took my hand and squeezed every once in a while, when he must have felt the pep in my step, was making me fall more in love with the thought of them. He seemed to like that I was excited, because he kept grinning whenever I smiled and almost skipped.

We stopped walking, then he covered my eyes with one hand, his other hand on my hip, moving me toward …a big question mark. “I’ve decided,” I said, my voice breathless. “I love surprises!”

“Tell me, la mia stella , is that all you love.”

I shivered at the feel of his breath against my skin. “You,” I said, entwining my fingers with his, even though his were pressed against my hip. “I love you!”

He kissed my neck. “A miracle.”

I smiled. “You know how you make me feel, Matteo?”

“Tell me, baby.”

“The monsters in my life before made me run, but…when they chased me underneath the bed, you were there waiting for me.”

We stopped walking.

“You saved me, Matteo,” I whispered. “I’ve never felt safer.”

His fingers tightened around mine. “Saving you saved me.” His voice was raspy.

“We saved each other.”

“Matteo without Stella doesn’t make sense,” he said.

“Yeah,” I breathed out. “And Stella without Matteo doesn’t make sense.”

I felt a shiver go through him. It seemed to pass through me too. Like a ghost had breezed by both of us at the same time—or walked through both of us. It was the oddest thing I’d ever felt.

“My mamma told me that after the first time I saw you,” he said in almost a whisper. It was rough, like he was trying to contain his emotions. “You know she feels things. She felt I would have been wounded if I had gone back that night. I was going to.”

“Wounded…as in, you might have been taken away from me?”

“Yeah.”

This time, my fingers started to squeeze the life out of his. “If something would have happened to you…I wouldn’t be standing here today.”

We both allowed that to sink in before we started to move forward again. By picking up our feet, walking together, it felt like we were moving away from that scarring memory, the devastating separation, so thankful to be where we were instead of where we’d been. Even though I was too chicken shit to face my memories, know the truth about my mom, I still felt like I was healing, which made me feel so odd at times.

I wondered if I could bury enough of all that I’d been through to forget it?

“Matteo?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“That man…you didn’t tell me what he was doing here.”

He sighed. “He belonged to the Nemours. He’s been here. Waiting. The Nemours and the Russians knew I’d claimed you and were determined to stop me, even before the night we arrived here. They placed men in areas they knew were close to my family and me. The man was having an affair with Tipsy. He got lax and happened to be waiting in the road for a ride when Noemi’s car came down the road. He recognized you in the front seat.”

“Tipsy was having an affair?”

“She claimed she was afraid she’d give her husband another heart attack with her stamina.”

“Oh.”

“Her husband was of a different opinion.”

“He’s mad?”

“Tipsy is on a plane back to Texas.”

“I don’t think Tuscany will ever be the same. The ladies might find yoga boring.”

He snorted. “The men won’t.”

Even though what we were discussing was serious, I laughed. “Like your mamma said, Tipsy was a trip!” I laughed even harder thinking back on the yoga session.

“Speaking of trips…” He pulled me back some, and my leg went forward before we stopped. He took a deep breath, another, then another, and then uncovered my eyes.

I blinked at the sudden brightness, and then my eyes connected the picture. “A…bike?”

He laughed, and I could have sworn the tender breeze was angels sighing. “It’s a Vespa.”

I ran my pointer finger along all the chrome. “Are you taking me for a ride?”

“Yeah.” He took the helmet from the handlebar and sat it on my head. “I’m also going to teach you how to drive it.”

“ Noooo! ”

He studied my face. “ Noooo , as in, fuck no, I’m not driving that thing . Or… nooo! Let’s go! ” He tried to make his voice sound like mine, but his voice was way too manly.

“The second one!” I hopped on the cute little bike and pretended to rev the engine with the handlebars. “Vr oooo V room !” I started moving the bars back and forth, imagining whipping around roads and outrunning monsters.

After a second, when I realized Matteo was being quiet, I stopped and looked up at him. His thick eyebrows were drawn down, his lips pinched, and his arms were crossed.

“What?” I cracked up at the serious look on his face.

“I have a feeling I’m going to fucking regret this. If I do, Marciano is going to pay.”

“This was Marciano’s idea?”

He nodded. “I’m going to teach you how to drive, but I had a car in mind. Marciano thought this might be easier. It will help you learn how to ride a bike too.”

“I don’t think my mom knew how to ride a bike. She never bought me one, and I never asked for one.”

He touched my chin. “Swimming?”

“No.” I shook my head. “We went to the beach, but mom always said the sand was for people, the water for whatever lived in it.”

He smiled. “Might as well consider me and my siblings sharks. My old man used to be in the Coast Guard. He swam in the most dangerous waters in the world, and he taught us at a young age how to swim.”

“So cool!” I turned forward again, about to mess around some more. Get comfortable with the feel of it. But then the expansive view stopped me.

It was breathtaking. The rolling hills in all different shades of green. The bright wildflowers that seemed to make the earth pop with color. Even the bright sun in the sky. I tipped my head up to it, closing my eyes, and it felt like my skin was drinking it all in. I didn’t even have a window in the dungeon of Régine’s wicked castle, and this truly felt like heaven. Then a thought hit me. I looked at him, and this time, his gaze was soft as he stared at me.

Ava had said these men were all born with “bedroom eyes.” When I asked her what that meant, she said eyes that can bring you to the bedroom without even being close to one, and then make you melt into the sheets. That was exactly how he was looking at me. My entire body felt like it was turning into jelly.

I cleared my throat and got back to my thought. I blinked up at him, my voice almost breathless. “Are you going to be okay with sitting on the back of this thing? Or…will you walk next to me?”

“We have a tradition,” he said. “My great-grandfather and great-grandmother have a place in Positano, along the coast. When they would vacation there in the summer, there was a tradition. All the married men ride on the back of the Vespas, while the wives drive to a restaurant for dinner. It’s symbolic.”

“I love it!” I turned and held the handlebars even tighter. “We’re going to practice for that!” For the first time I noticed activity in the distance. Men. They were all over the property, some so far, they resembled ants. Actually, that was a good description of how they operated around this family. “Is that Mariano?” I squinted, pointing.

Matteo followed the line. “Yeah. He’s out riding.”

“He loves horses?” He was holding the reins, the gorgeous horse kicking up dust as they flew.

“We all ride, but he’s especially skilled.” He turned my head a little. “Marciano.”

“That’s a different kind of bike than this one.” Marciano was in the distance, kicking up dust too, but from rubber instead of hooves.

“He’s riding a dirt bike.” He turned my head in the opposite direction. “Maestro.”

“He’s just taking a leisurely walk.” I sighed and looked behind me. Saverio and Mia were playing with their twins, and when Saverio didn’t have a hand on one of them, it was on Mia’s swelling belly. “I feel like the more I watch, the more I get to know your family.” I turned back to Marciano and watched him on his horse. “He’s really flirty with most of the ladies, but I can tell there’s a deep romantic inside of him. And a story. He’s covering something.”

He stared at me for a second. “You’re curious.”

I thought about that for a second. “I guess? Wait. Nonno said you shouldn’t be so opaque about answers. Yes or no . It makes you seem weak when you can’t give a definitive answer, and a Fausti isn’t weak. So, the answer is, no, I was never curious before. I couldn’t afford to be. And in general, I’m not a nosy person. I’m just interested because this is your family, and now, according to everyone around me, it’s mine too.”

“Fucking A.”

I smiled. “I just want to get to know them all better. Why are you curious about me being curious?”

“Touché.” He leaned in and kissed me again. “My mom is a curious being. Got my old man in a lot of trouble over the years because of it.” Then he laughed, but it was like he was laughing at an inside joke. “She doesn’t mean for the trouble to happen, but it just seems to happen around her, and she somehow gets sucked into the mix. Her…special ability has attracted a lot of attention over the years.”

“You mean her ability to feel people?”

“Yeah, and not only that. Her dancing.”

Our eyes seemed to connect and hold.

“Oh,” I whispered. My dancing started all this trouble for him too. “You feel there’s a parallel there.”

“I believe there’s always a parallel when love works as strongly as it does in my family. A connection we have, or will have, to our parents’ relationship, no matter how it manifests itself.”

I broke eye contact and looked at Maestro. Like Chloe, it was like he was letting the world inspire him. I’d heard him play the piano, and his range could take you from love to hate, heart full to heartbreak. He seemed to have the ability to take emotions and turn them into music. I’d never heard anything like it before. I rubbed my arms just thinking about the song he’d composed for Matteo and me. It gave me a music frisson. It was haunting at first, then it turned into something even the stars could dance to. The thought of dancing brought me to my next comment.

“Dancing is a connection I have to my mom, but nothing more. I mean, when I was young, I wanted to go to dancing school and all that, but it seemed like fun. Not something I seriously wanted to do. Then that woman noticed me dancing, like I told you, and started to sell what I could do. But honestly, if it wasn’t for those nights…I might have truly…lost what mattered the most to me. My mom. Those nights allowed me to think of her, move closer to her, without fear of what that woman would see and steal from me.”

He took my chin in his hand and turned my face so I had to look him in the eyes. Damn, they were so gorgeous. Spellbinding, in fact.

“I learned a lot from my old man—what I’d do, wouldn’t do. You dance like you did on that stage for me only, but if dancing is what you want to do—any other type—I’d burn the world down so you could fucking do it.”

I almost whimpered at the sincerity in the words and at the iron tone of his voice. Whatever I wanted, if it didn’t cross personal parameters, this man would deliver. I’d do the same if it didn’t cross any of my personal boundaries either. For instance, if he ever suggested we have an open relationship like his aunt and uncle, I might take a knife to his heart.

He grinned at me, like he read the violence behind my eyes. Sometimes I wondered…his mom was “touched,” and I thought maybe he was too, but refused to admit it. Sometimes I wondered if I was touched too. I could read him so easily, but since it only happened with him, I thought it was an “us” thing.

He leaned around me and shook the handlebars some. “Ready to drive, la mia stella ?”

I turned forward and grinned. “The real question is…are you ready to ride with me, handsome? Vroom! Vroom! Vroom! ” I twisted the handlebars back and forth, the wheel crackling against gravel.

“Fuck me,” he muttered. He looked in the distance, and a second later, one of the soldiers, Armando, came closer, holding two boxes. Armando handed Matteo one but kept the other.

Matteo opened the box, revealing a pair of sunglasses that sat inside the velvety interior. He showed them to me—real chic looking, with oversized square frames. The color reminded me of a tortoise shell, and they bore the stamp of an expensive designer. As I slipped them over my eyes, he swapped boxes with Armando and took out another pair for himself.

He reminded me of an old movie star. His were close in color to mine, but smaller and thicker.

“What are yours called?” I barely got out.

“This style?”

I expected him to say the same style Cary Grant wore, but after I nodded, he said, “Arnel with a standard bridge fit.”

I would have probably laughed at how technical he was being, but instead, all I could do was try to tame my runaway breath. He looked…I didn’t think there was a word for how he looked. He was beyond fine, beautiful, gorgeous, handsome… He was so debonair. His hair cut. How he combed and slicked it back, the sides shorter. His suit. The way he rolled up the sleeves to the white shirt that he wore underneath the jacket, which he’d left behind. How tall and fit he was. His tattoos. The way he smelled. Every dip and hollow of his face.

He was all man.

Thankfully, he turned my attention to learning how to drive. For the next hour or so, he taught me all there was to know about the fun little two-wheeler. When I was ready to go on my own, he got behind me and held on for dear life. I took off for the hills of Tuscany with a cry that could have started a war.

It was a war.

A war to claim my freedom back.

Even though this was a small battle, I was killing it, laughing and feeling as free as ever. The man behind me—he was guiding me to a place I only dreamed of going before him. This was the sweeter side of life, and it felt like I was dancing on air. Or riding on it.

It didn’t matter.

I felt like I was filled with helium and rising toward the stars.