Chapter 3 The comfort of Truth

Bianca

"What is it?" Alesso asks, noticing my mood shift as I stare at my phone.

"Reality," I say, showing him the messages. "My family wants an answer. They've arranged a meeting with the DeSantis for next week."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, something dark flashes in his eyes. " what do you want?"

"I want more time." I put my phone away, refusing to let them ruin this day. "I want to stay here, in this bubble we've created, where nothing else matters."

"Then stay." He pulls me close, right there on the beach with the sun setting behind us. "Stay with me. Tonight. Tomorrow. However long you can."

"I can't stay forever," I whisper against his chest.

"I know. But we have now. Let's not waste it worrying about later."

He's right. So I turn off my phone and let him lead me back to the hotel. We order room service great pasta and wine and tiramisu that we feed each other while sitting on the balcony, watching the stars come out over the water.

"Tell me something true," I say, pleasantly wine-drunk and feeling brave. "Something you've never told anyone else."

He's quiet for so long I think he's not going to answer. Then: "I'm terrified that I'll wake up one day and realize I've lived my entire life for other people. That I'll be eighty years old, looking back, and won't recognize myself in any of the choices I made."

The raw honesty in his voice makes my chest ache. "Is that why you became a consultant? To make your own choices?"

"Something like that." He pours us both more wine. "Your turn. Tell me something true."

I take a sip, gathering courage. "I'm afraid that if I marry Alessandro DeSanti, I'll disappear. Not physically, but... me. Bianca. The woman I am will get absorbed into being a DeSanti wife, and I'll spend the rest of my life wondering who I might have been."

"Then don't do it."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple. It's not easy, but it's simple." He sets down his glass and takes my hands. "Do you want to know what I think?"

"Tell me."

"I think you're one of the bravest people I've ever met. You're doing work that matters, changing lives, making a real difference. You don't need the DeSanti name or resources to validate that. You're already extraordinary."

Tears prick my eyes. "You don't know me well enough to say that."

"I know enough." He brushes a strand of hair from my face. "I know you care deeply. I know you're brilliant and passionate and strong. I know that when you talk about those kids in your programs, your whole face lights up. I know that you're wrestling with an impossible decision, and instead of taking the easy road, you're here, trying to figure out what's right for you."

"Maybe I'm just running away," I say quietly. "Maybe I'm a coward."

"You're not a coward. You're human." He pulls me into his lap, and I curl against him, feeling safer than I have in months. "And for what it's worth, I'm glad you ran. Because otherwise, I never would have met you."

"Alesso?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For seeing me."

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Thank you for letting me."

---

Later, as we lie in bed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin, I find myself wondering about him. Really wondering. He's been so focused on me, on my problems and my life, that I've barely scratched the surface of who he is.

"Tell me about your family," I say.

His hand stills on my hip. "Not much to tell. Traditional Italian family. High expectations. The usual."

"Brothers? Sisters?"

"Brothers.One Danillo. We're... competitive."

"Are you close?"

"We were, when we were younger. Now we're more like colleagues than siblings." There's sadness in his voice. "The family business does that sometimes. It turns relationships into transactions. The love is still there . I'm an aquarius moon"

I prop myself up on one elbow to look at him.

" I'm a Libra moon ... Is that why you left?"

"Partly." He won't quite meet my eyes. "I wanted something different. Something that was mine. They are known for being cheaters."

"No harmony, And have you found it?"

Now he does look at me, and the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. "I'm starting to think I have."

He kisses me then, slow and deep, and I lose myself in it. In him. In the way his hands know exactly how to touch me, the way his body fits against mine like we were designed for each other.

"Bianca," he murmurs against my lips. "I want you again."

"You had me an hour ago," I point out, but I'm already arching into his touch.

"Not enough. Never enough."

This time is different from before. Slower. More intense. He takes his time undressing me, pressing kisses to every inch of skin he reveals. When I'm finally naked beneath him, trembling with need, he just looks at me.

"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

"I'm memorizing you," he says simply. "Every curve. Every freckle. The way your breathing changes when I touch you here" His hand cups my breast. "Or here" His fingers trail lower. "Or here."

When he finally touches me where I need him most, I nearly come undone from that alone. He's learning my body like it's a language he's determined to master, and the focused attention is almost overwhelming.

"Please," I breathe. "Alesso, please."

"Tell me what you want."

"You. Inside me. Now."

He settles between my thighs, and when he enters me, we both gasp. No matter how many times we do this, it always feels like the first time—that moment of perfect connection, of two becoming one.

He moves slowly, almost torturously so, his eyes locked on mine. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes. God, yes."

"Tell me how it feels."

"Perfect," I manage. "You feel perfect."

He increases his pace slightly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes me see stars. "And this?"

"Don't stop. Please don't stop."

He doesn't. He brings me to the edge again and again, backing off just before I can fall, until I'm nearly sobbing with need.

"Alesso, I can't—I need—"

"What do you need, bella? Tell me."

"I need to come. Please let me come."

"Then come for me."

His hand slips between us, and the moment his fingers find my clit, I shatter. My orgasm crashes through me in waves, and he follows immediately after, my name on his lips.

We collapse together, hearts racing, bodies slick with sweat. He's still inside me, and I tighten around him, not ready to let him go yet.

"Incredible," he breathes. "You're incredible."

I don't have words. I just hold him close and try not to think about the fact that in a few days, I have to go back to Palermo and face reality. Back to being Bianca Morena, dutiful daughter, back to the arranged marriage that waits for me like a cage.

But not yet. For now, I have this. I have him.

And I'm going to hold onto it for as long as I can.