Passport to Him - Page 58

SEXED UP AND HORNY FROM A SICILIAN SEX GOD

The tensionin the car was palpable. Lorenzo and I didn’t speak the entire hour-long drive towards Mount Etna. His intense gaze is solely on his phone. He won’t look at me. He won’t talk to me. Whatever he’s reading grasps his attention more than me. My phone dings in my hand, Carol’s name blankly at the top.

CAROL: I showed him how to text message today. He has been a little under the weather, but the doctor upped his meds and appears to be the fix he needed.

ME: Thank you.

CAROL: How is Scotland?

ME: Scotland is great. Tell him that I will call him as soon as I can.

CAROL: He says he is glad you are not alone, and Finn decided to go with you.

ME: Love you, Da. Thank you for taking such good care of him. Talk soon.

I pocket my phone into my purse on the seat between me and Lorenzo in the back seat.

He’s still angry. So am I.

I press the button in the door handle to push the window down. I deeply inhale the scent of vanilla from the Pasticceria and the fragrant orange blossom. I can feel Lorenzo’s gaze shift to me, but I can’t meet his gaze. Guilt overwhelms me. I’m lying to my father about where I am. I’m lying to Finn about who I am with. I’m lying to Lorenzo about how important Finn is to me and who I truly am. The car turns down a dirt road surrounded by a vineyard full of grape vines. The car comes to a complete stop in front of a metal gate, housed by rocks in all sizes. The gate slowly opens, and the car drives inside. My eyes widen at the large, sand-colored villa covered in green vines coming into view in front of me. Expansive citrus, cherry and olive trees surrounded both sides of the straight driveway to the villa.

“Wow,” I breathe.

“Si,” Lorenzo agrees.

“This is your house?”

“My family’s home. Welcome to Capetti Vineyard Villa,” he says stoically.

I gaze over at him, but his gaze remains locked out the window as we drive further to the villa. I look down at my fingers in my lap nervously. His jaw tenses and releases a deep breath through his pursed lips.

“Enzo,” I say.

“No matter what happens, I’m sorry,” he says, his gaze pointedly at me.

His eyes bearing down on me with renewed purpose. A certain soulfulness apology written across his face. The car parks and Lorenzo opens the door before I can even respond to him. My door is opened by the driver of the car, and I get out slowly, careful with exiting a car in a t-shirt dress that I changed into from the club. Lorenzo’s hand grips my hips fiercely, his strong fingers digging into the fabric and reaching my skin.

“Hey.”

His firm loosened slightly as he walked with me to the front of the main door. I could fully see the villa in all its glory. I flipped my curled hair to one side. As I look over to Lorenzo beside me, nervousness floods through my system. I know that this man’s family is here and whoever they are effectively turn this man into a tense prick. Movement at the open door grasps my attention before I can talk to the man next to me. A man dressed in all white with salt and pepper hair and beard walks out roughly from the door, flanked by three men. The men were carbon copies of stereotypical Italian young men, burly bodies covered in black suits. His stone face grimaced at the sight of us before him. His presence commanded intimidation.

“Amelia, this is Luis Capetti, my uncle,” Lorenzo says, his grip tightening in the clutch of the fabric of my dress.

“Ciao,” I say quietly, my hand extending out to shake his hand.

“Adoptive uncle. Don’t give her the wrong idea that we are related by blood,” Luis says firmly.

“Of course,” he replies, sighing.

Antonio emerges from inside the villa with a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Sir, G is waiting for you,” Antonio says, his voice trailing off when he notices us standing in front of them.

Luis nods and walks between us, forcing Lorenzo’s grip on me to drop. He gets inside the car. Antonio gives me a pointed look before getting into the backseat of the car we just got out of and joining Luis.

“We will talk business when I return from dinner. Your friend can see herself out,” Luis says, before closing the door forcefully.

The car speeds off quickly, leaving me and Lorenzo standing in front of the villa alone.

“Wow,” I breathe, my smile slipped.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” he says.

He grabs my hand in his strong grasp and pulls me towards the open door of the villa. My gaze turning over my shoulder at the retreating car going through the open gate.

Lorenzo leads me into the living room. The pistachio green colored walls contrasted the large red-brick wood-burning fireplace as the focal point of the room. A small and frail woman sat in a small tan chair underneath a white crocheted blanket. Her red hair tousled in front of her face. Her smile beams as soon as her gaze settles on Lorenzo in front of her. His tense jaw loosens, and his hard eyes soften at the woman in front of him. He drops my hand softly beside me before he kneels down in front of her. Her chocolate brown eyes welled with emotion as her palm grazes across his bearded cheek. I carefully walk down the small step leading into the room as I watch this man kiss her on her cheek. She was far older than my Nonna. My best guess was at least ninety years old.

“Lorenzo,” the woman warns.

“Nonna,” he breathes.

“Your uncle is very strong willed,” she says, her English perfect with a thickened Italian accent. “He is more callous these days. He wants you to take over the business and you know Antonio can’t handle it,” she says.

“I know,” Lorenzo agrees.

Looking behind him, his gaze settles on me and motions for me to come over. Her gaze settles lovingly on me as her hand moves away from his beard and lays carefully in her lap. Her smile beams once more.

“Amelia, this is Antonio’s Nonna, Maria,” he says, her gaze turns sharply to him.

“Excusa?! I am your Nonna, Lorenzo. I don’t want to hear that talk again,” she warns.

“Si, Nonna.”

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