King of Stars (The Next Generation #2)

28. Stella

Chapter 28

Stella

C astello Astro. A dream come true, honestly. It felt so much like home the moment I saw it, and as the fates decided to be generous to me, it became my home the same day. It seemed like the floors welcomed our steps, the walls were willing to keep our secrets, and the roof vowed to protect us. Just as we were restoring what we could, trying to be respectful of its history, the house gave us the freedom to make it our own. Leave a piece of our own history for generations to come.

I couldn’t take credit for all those words, though. Scarlett had said some of them, and it inspired me to put my own spin on them. To bring forward all I was feeling and write them down. Chloe (who decided to stick around, even though Scarlett said that she “felt” Chloe’s resolve wasn’t final) painted the words on a portrait of the Tuscan hills for us. She’d painted it from our window—our view of them. We hung it in what we were calling the family room, so everyone would be sure to see it.

It had been almost a month since Matteo surprised me with the castle, and each second, each minute, day by day, moment by moment, it was starting to transform into our home.

The frescoes were all in amazing condition. I especially loved the one in the dining room, which seemed like it was floating over our table, which could seat up to at least fifty. Fifty people. At first, I wanted to say that we’d never get that many visitors, but then I reminded myself that Matteo’s family was huge, and they enjoyed having family dinners. It was the same for our outside seating on the verandas. I ordered a custom-made table from a local artisan that was double the size of the smaller one we had, just in case, but I kept the smaller one for us. The spot I wanted it moved to had perfect views, and I loved how intimate it felt. It would only be Matteo and I out there, for the most part, and I loved being close to him. I thought our bedroom was too big, but with how he made me feel at night, it might as well have been the size of a small closet.

Perfect.

Chloe knew Italian painting techniques and was giving the rooms updated paint jobs. We kept them all the same, earthy tones that felt like they paired well with Tuscany—apricot and pear, gold for the Toscana light, and blue here and there for the endless sky. Matteo’s office was this color. Some of the textures of the walls reminded me of clay. Bronze touches contrasted well. Most of our furniture was dark mahogany, and though it looked like it had been here for centuries, it seemed like it could have been made yesterday with how well it was all kept up.

What I loved the most?

The simple pictures of religious figures over the beds. They brought me peace, and it felt like they’d earned their spots in our home. Whoever had lived here before had found comfort in them. I was feeling the same. Slowly, we were getting to know each other, just like us and the house—er, castello —but it felt more homely than what the word castle made me think of.

On my way to bring some new linens into the dining room to put away in the hutch, I stopped and watched Chloe paint for a second. Figaro was playing at my feet almost like a dog would. Chloe was concentrating on her work, each stroke meticulous and perfect. Deep down, though, I was willing to bet her emotions were making her think long and hard about Massimo and what she was going to do.

That day outside of the castello , when she ran to him and him to her, she’d told me she was leaving. But I was starting to realize that these men were not so easy to put off. Massimo had planned to follow her wherever she went. Fight for her no matter the cost. I could tell the entire situation was starting to make the family antsy, because Scarlett was getting anxious about it.

One day, a group of the family had gone for a ride to see the Sentiero dell’Arte e dell’Anima, or Path of Art and Soul, in Pienza. It was meant to blend art and nature, each bench along the walk designed by an artist.

Massimo felt Chloe would enjoy it, and somehow Scarlett and Brando, Rocco, Mia and Saverio, and Matteo and I were invited along. I realized why when Massimo took a minute, while Chloe was up ahead, to squeeze my hand and say in a rush, “You are a woman of this generation. Perhaps you will be able to talk to her again.” He’d left me right after, taking his spot behind her. I’d noticed he didn’t get too close. He gave her some space. But the tension was thick between them, even outside.

“What can I do?” I’d asked Matteo, feeling helpless.

He’d shrugged, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Nothing that I know of. Mamma tried. Nonno has talked to her. You’ve talked to her. It’s up to her now which direction Massimo will take.”

Which direction Massimo will take.

I hadn’t been around long, but from my short time, even I knew he wasn’t going to just let her go. She knew it too, and I always got the feeling she was internally plotting on how to leave, or maybe escape. She’d never be free from the love, but physically, I got the feeling she was mentally putting on her running shoes. Short of telling Massimo that Chloe felt his mom was evil, and she couldn’t be with him while Rosaria was around, there was nothing else to do.

This wasn’t about Massimo and the Italian model who was planted in his bed. It was about Rosaria. She was obsessed with Massimo leading the family someday, which meant that it would start a war between Matteo and Massimo, since Matteo wanted to rule someday. That all seemed normal in this family, but Massimo had turned down the position after he’d met Chloe in Paris. He craved true love more than he craved power. Rosaria wasn’t going along with that. Everyone knew she was up to something, but how she would get there was still a mystery.

Though, I got the feeling Scarlett felt something. Something not even Mia felt. Mia said her mamma was more experienced with the “feelings,” but Mia sometimes felt things her mamma didn’t, depending on who it was.

Scarlett had taken my hand during the walk, and Brando and Matteo had walked a little ahead to give us time. She squeezed. “There’s nothing you can do, bebe ,” she’d said to me. “This isn’t your fight. But be prepared. This is not going to end well.”

“I know,” I’d whispered, thinking about all the times Chloe had looked at me and Scarlett while we were working on the house, or laughing about something, or the times she’d hug me. I’d seen the jealousy in Chloe’s eyes.

Chloe would even say, “You’re so lucky. Scarlett is so accepting.”

I was, and Scarlett was. She’d told me once that she and Brando had loved their children’s future spouses for as long as they loved their children. All they wanted was for their children to be happy, and if their children loved us, so did they. Rosaria was the total opposite. She craved power. Almost like a man would. It seemed like she’d stop at nothing, not even her children, to have it. That was a reason why I knew Chloe enjoyed staying with us. Rosaria wasn’t welcome here. I’d said it after I found out she tried to seduce Matteo.

A knock at the door made me jump. Chloe fell over a paint can, and Figaro lifted his head, looked toward the door, then ran for it. I rushed in to help Chloe, setting the linens down on the sofa.

“Sorry!” Her cheeks were flushed, and her light hair had pear green paint specks all in it. “I was so lost in my work I didn’t expect the knock.”

“It’s totally okay! Let me get the door and then I’ll help you clean up.”

“No, it’s totally fine. I got this! The tarp on the floor can just be rolled up. I have tons more.”

I was going for the door, but I knew whoever was there either had spoken to a solider beforehand or was someone the soldiers knew—like one of my soon to be in-laws. Matteo was out back building his workout area with his brothers and Saverio. He knew beforehand who was coming too. He didn’t always tell me. I didn’t ask why. I assumed it was because he thought I’d like a surprise now and then.

Two soldiers were close to the front door but seemed to melt into the shadows when I grew closer. Just as I expected, they allowed me to open the door because it was people they knew were coming: Scarlett and Mia. I hugged them both and welcomed them in, which was kind of odd. I had a place to welcome people to!

A giddy smile came to my face, and Scarlett and Mia returned it.

“It stills hits me sometimes,” Scarlett said, handing me a loaf of fresh bread she’d probably just baked. It was still warm and wrapped in a pretty cloth. “I have a house in Tuscany.”

I lifted the bread to my nose and inhaled. “Smells so good! Thank you!”

“Ohh, can we cut it up and share it?” Mia rubbed her belly. “I’m starving after that walk.”

Scarlett and I looked at each other and laughed. Mia did, too, a moment later. Halfway to the kitchen, Mia took the loaf from me and offered to do the cutting. Scarlett and I were just passing the room where Chloe was painting when Scarlett reached out and grabbed my hand.

“She’s going to make a decision that Massimo isn’t going to accept,” she whispered. “Rosaria has gotten inside of her head and is haunting her.”

“Chloe told you something?” I whispered back, but then I realized that no one had to tell Scarlett anything. If she zoned in on a person, no words were needed for her to know his or her intentions.

She shook her head. “No.”

I pulled her down the hallway some, not wanting Chloe to think we were talking about her if she happened to look behind her. Which we were, but not in a mean way. I could tell most of the family wanted what was best for Chloe and Massimo. But something had been on my mind.

“That’s why Matteo didn’t marry Chloe. She’s easily…haunted.”

Scarlett stared at me for a second before she answered. “He didn’t marry Chloe because she’s not you, bebe .” She touched my chin. “But yes, Matteo was concerned that Chloe would find this life, this family, hard to be in. She’s an artist, and she’s prone to high highs and low lows. This life isn’t exactly conducive to a stable well-being, no matter how much the men in this family want to protect. The men in this family are shields, and are as tough as metal, but even the toughest armor can get dented from time to time.”

I looked away from her, trying to gain the courage to ask her a question that felt like it was burning me from the inside. I cleared my throat and then looked her in the eye. “Am I strong enough for this family?”

“You tell me, bebe .”

I thought about it for a second. Felt the love I had for Matteo move through me like warm water, and no matter what was thrown at us, how the thought of that warmth would always make me strong enough to stay. “Yes,” I said, realizing I had stood taller and raised my chin when I’d answered.

She hugged me and then squeezed my shoulders. “Are you ready?”

I was getting married the day after tomorrow. Was I ready? My bags were packed and waiting by the door, since I’d be spending two nights over at Brando and Scarlett’s place. The church on their property was ready, and the entire villa was being transformed as we stood there.

My life was being transformed as we stood there.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I’ve been ready for this since the stars have been in the sky.”