Chapter 119
Chapter 32
Fuse vand into the couch, sheently staring at the IV as if the blue of colors and sounds might distract him from the chans chuming inces, He
grounting reminder of the steady routines of Boing. But today. hit the housekeeper bustling around him, het presence tionally a comfort,
was just a haze of familiar noises, the dusting cloth swishing, the clinking as she adjusted vases and picture frames. His fog littered, the tension building in him until it was unbearable, his thoughts pressing on him like a vice. He couldn’t sit there any longer.
Restlessly, he stood up and began pacing the room. As he turned for the appteenth time, he noticed the housekeeper, Gabriella, staring at him with an expression that startled him–she looked furious. Her brows were furrowed, her mouth a tight line, and her grip on the map was almo white–knuckled. Confused, he looked down and saw it: he had tracked we notprints all over her freshly mopped floor.
“Oh.” he mumbled. “Sorry.”
“Move,” she replied, her tone clipped, barely contained. Without waiting for him to leave, she bent down to clean the mess he had just made, her annoyance seeping out of every motion. He watched her, stunned, her usual soft–spoken and sweet demeanor nowhere to be found.
It was a warning as much as it was an instruction, and he knew better than to argue. He retreated, heading to his study for some privacy. Just as he closed the door, he thought he heard it–a mutter under her breath, clear enough to reach him even from across the room: “Coglionato.” Dumbass. He froze, stunned, the word bouncing around in his mind. Gabriella, the gentle, almost invisible presence in his household, was saying this things? He couldn’t believe it.
He stayed rooted there, half out the door, and her voice floated through the room, almost to herself. “Even his three–year–old knows what love is, and this one? Blind as a donkey.”
Gabriella, his usually sweet–natured, mostly silent housekeeper, was suddenly revealing a sharper, truer side, and he could barely hold back his laughter. Today seemed to be full of surprises. But he wasn’t angry–how could he be? She was right.
He had been blind.
He waited a minute longer to make sure she was done venting before slipping out quietly, heading toward the door. He couldn’t sit still any longer–he needed to find Amber and Nico. They could only have gone so far, maybe around the square or to the little park nearby.
As he reached the door, Gabriella’s voice interrupted his thoughts, this time in her usual tone. “Signor Luca, what would you like for lunch?”
There was a sly glint in her eye now, subtle but unmistakable, and he finally recognized the steely intelligence hiding behind her polite demeanor. Gabriella hadn’t just let her frustration slip–she had wanted him to hear it. Even now, her question was a veiled hint, a gentle shove in the right direction.
“Nothing, thanks,” he replied, a slight smile playing at his lips. “I think well be having lunch out today–Nico, Amber, and I.”
And before stepping out, he turned one last time. “Ah, another thing Gabriella… you do realize that blind people can still hear? Yes?”
If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. Her expression remained placid as always, but Luca thought he caught the faintest twitch of her lips. Laughing to himself, he walked out, wondering how he had missed her insight all these years.
Middle–aged Gabriella continued sweeping the floor, silent as ever, though secretly hoping the Forentinos would stay away for good after today. She disliked those nosy bastards. The elder Forentino never even called her by name–always, “Eh! Come here… eh! Do that!” She hated it. And the younger boy, brother of Senora Carlotta was the worst–he’d once had the nerve to call her “the fat housekeeper“! She shuddered at the
1/2
Chapter 110
memory the had never
tum tai a day in MG 1761 BIRKring new t
No, il was hurt fine, tonk you Be highend etsinly like t
reamined for note dolere ik
Yee well she thought with a little mille, the red hailed Armerican and traffeseber hoy would be much better depletes for Noe & for battue
The sun was warm on his face as he walked, his mind finally clearing as heade his way toward the park. There was no way Bardot promet
and wait for tate to throw him a lifeline. He’d find Amber and Nico himsel wherever they’d gone to had to. His Impatiens spurred by
onward, his steps quick and purposeful.
When he reached the park, the world was bathed in the golden glow of anoon light, children laughing and shouting as they played arresti the small pond. His heart stilled as he saw him—Nico, kneeling in the grass with a group of kids, laughing as they built little sandcastles for a moment, Laica couldn’t move, just watching his son in the warmth of the on, surrounded by the brightness of the day.
And then Nico spotted him, his face lighting up in an instant. He dropped his bucket, and before Luca could react, Nico was running, small arms flung wide, his voice ringing out across the field. “Papal”
The sound of it–a cry so simple yet so full of joy–stopped Luca’s heart. He opened his arms just as Nico flung himself into them, laughing as he wrapped his tiny arms around his legs.
Luca knelt down, pulling Nico close, his heart feeling like it was about to burst. In that small, fierce embrace, he felt something settle, some ache he hadn’t known was there dissolving as he held his son close. Nico pulled back, his face bright with happiness, and Luca could barely hold back the rush of emotion in his chest.
So, this is what it felt like to be loved unconditionally.
He didn’t need to ask anyone to confirm it; he felt the answer settle warmly in his chest. Yes, this was it. That pure, unwavering love–he realized he’d known it before. As he scanned the park, his eyes landed on Amber, sitting quietly by the pond, her gaze distant, lost in thought.
“Papa,” Nico breathed, his little fingers clutching Luca’s shirt. “Can we get ice cream?”
Luca’s laugh was rough, the sound thick with unspoken words. He ruffled Nico’s hair, brushing his cheek softly. “Of course, tesoro. Go get your mother, and we’ll all go together.”
Amber was gazing at the water, lost in thought, and as he watched her, the knot in his chest unraveled completely. She looked peaceful, her face softened by the light, yet he could sense the weight she carried too, a shadow just beneath the surface.
But for the first time, he felt hope–an almost painful, beautiful hope that pierced through the quiet ache that had lived inside him for so long.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
