By Sunday morning, the entire Moretti family believed Adrian and I were in love.
The problem was that I had started wondering whether they were seeing something we weren’t ready to admit.
Breakfast began at eight.
I came downstairs at eight-fifteen because I had spent an embarrassing amount of time deciding what a fake future wife wore to breakfast with a family that had already watched her kiss their most intimidating relative.
Adrian was at the kitchen island drinking coffee.
He looked up.
His eyes paused on me.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
That was it.
No mention of the kiss.
No mention of him standing outside my bedroom after one in the morning.
Lucia placed pancakes in front of me.
“You two sleep well?”
I nearly inhaled my coffee.
Adrian remained perfectly calm.
“Fine.”
His mother smiled.
“Separate rooms are so old-fashioned.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
“Eat your breakfast.”
“I already did.”
Luca walked in.
“Morning, lovebirds.”
Adrian looked like he was considering murder.
I smiled.
“Good morning, Luca.”
He sat across from us.
“So when’s the wedding?”
I dropped my fork.
Lucia smacked his shoulder.
“Don’t pressure them.”
“I’m not. I’m asking.”
Adrian took another sip of coffee.
“There is no wedding.”
Yet.
The word seemed to hang there even though nobody had said it.
Lucia glanced at me.
I looked down.
After breakfast, Adrian escaped to his mother’s study to handle several calls.
I helped Lucia arrange flowers for the birthday dinner.
“You don’t have to help,” she said.
“I know.”
“Adrian told me you work too much.”
I laughed.
“That is impressive hypocrisy.”
“He works because he doesn’t know what else to do with himself.”
She trimmed a peony stem.
“He was different before his father died.”
I didn’t respond immediately.
Adrian rarely spoke about his father.
“He became responsible for everyone overnight,” Lucia continued. “The company. His brothers. Me. People who depended on the family.”
“He was twenty-six.”
“Yes.”
“That’s young.”
“Too young.”
Her eyes softened.
“He learned to make decisions without asking anyone what they cost him.”
I thought about the man upstairs answering emails on a Sunday morning.
“He’s good at taking care of other people.”
Lucia smiled sadly.
“He’s terrible at letting anyone take care of him.”
Then she looked at me.
“That’s why I was so happy when he told me about you.”
Guilt punched through me.
“Lucia—”
“He didn’t say your name at first. Just that there was someone.”
I swallowed.
“He sounded different.”
“How?”
“Hopeful.”
The scissors stopped in my hand.
Lucia returned to the flowers.
“I hadn’t heard that in years.”
I wanted to tell her.
For one terrible second, I almost did.
But then Adrian entered.
His eyes moved between us.
“What are you discussing?”
“You,” Lucia said.
“Then I’m leaving.”
I laughed.
He looked at me.
There it was again.
That tiny softness.
Later, he found me alone on the terrace.
The Hudson stretched silver beneath a cloudy sky.
“You okay?”
“Your mother likes me.”
“That was the objective.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He came beside me.
“I know.”
“This feels wrong.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’ll still pay you if you want to leave.”
I turned.
“That isn’t why.”
“Then why?”
“Because she believes you’re happy.”
He looked toward the river.
“And you aren’t?”
The question escaped before I could stop it.
He turned back.
“That isn’t what I said.”
“Are you happy?”
He didn’t answer.
“Adrian.”
“I don’t spend much time thinking about whether I’m happy.”
“That sounds miserable.”
“It’s efficient.”
“No human being should describe his emotional life as efficient.”
He almost smiled.
“You do this often.”
“What?”
“Tell me things nobody else would.”
“Maybe nobody else wants to risk getting fired.”
“You’re not afraid of me.”
I thought about it.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve watched you secretly pay Christmas bonuses to employees who thought the company couldn’t afford them. I watched you sit in a hospital waiting room for six hours when Marco’s daughter had surgery. You act scary because it’s useful.”
He stared at me.
“You notice too much.”
“It’s literally my job.”
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“Not that much.”
Neither of us moved.
Then the terrace door opened.
A woman stepped outside.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Beautiful.
She wore a camel coat that probably cost more than my monthly rent.
“Adrian.”
His expression hardened instantly.
“Victoria.”
She kissed his cheek.
I hated how quickly jealousy hit me.
It was stupid.
We weren’t real.
Victoria looked at me.
“And you must be Emily.”
“Apparently everyone knows.”
“Oh, everyone knows now.”
She smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
“I’m Victoria DeLuca.”
The name clicked.
Her father controlled one of the largest construction firms doing business with Moretti Logistics.
I had scheduled meetings with him.
Never with her.
Victoria turned to Adrian.
“Your mother invited me.”
“I assumed.”
There was history here.
I could feel it.
Victoria touched his arm.
“You look well.”
Adrian stepped subtly away.
“So do you.”
She looked between us.
“I have to admit, I was surprised.”
“Why?” I asked.
Her smile sharpened.
“Adrian has never been interested in employees.”
There it was.
I smiled back.
“Maybe he finally hired the right one.”
Adrian coughed to hide a laugh.
Victoria’s eyes cooled.
She went inside.
I turned to him.
“Who is she?”
“Family friend.”
“That is not a family-friend look.”
“What look?”
“The one she gave me.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“I manage your calendar. I know when people want something from you.”
“What does she want?”
“You.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Jealous?”
“No.”
“That was fast.”
“I’m observant.”
“Of course.”
I walked toward the door.
He caught my wrist.
Not hard.
Just enough to stop me.
“Emily.”
I looked at his hand, then at him.
“Victoria and I dated.”
There it was.
“How long?”
“Eight months.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Why did it end?”
“She wanted something I couldn’t give her.”
“What?”
His eyes held mine.
“More.”
I pulled my wrist gently free.
“Good thing I’m only here for a week.”
Something flickered across his face.
That afternoon, Lucia announced we were all attending Mass before a family lunch.
Victoria came too.
So did approximately half of Adrian’s extended family.
Everywhere we went, somebody asked how we met.
Each time, our invented story grew.
By lunch, Adrian had supposedly spent six months secretly in love with me before I asked him out.
By dessert, Aunt Teresa had decided we would have three children.
I was laughing when Adrian’s phone buzzed.
He checked it.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I knew better.
“Adrian.”
“Work.”
He stood.
“I need ten minutes.”
He disappeared into the hallway.
I waited five.
Then I followed.
His voice came from the library.
“No. Increase security at Pier 19. Nobody enters without authorization.”
I stopped outside.
A second voice spoke through his phone, too muffled to understand.
Adrian’s response chilled me.
“Find out who sent it.”
He ended the call.
I stepped inside.
“What happened?”
He looked irritated.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“A shipment was tampered with.”
“Dangerous?”
“Potentially.”
“Does this have anything to do with your family?”
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You really do know me too well.”
“That’s why you hired me for this ridiculous performance, remember?”
He walked toward me.
“Someone left a message at one of our warehouses.”
“What message?”
He paused.
“Happy birthday, Lucia.”
Cold spread through me.
“Your mother?”
“It could be intimidation.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Are you going to tell her?”
“Not until I know whether it’s credible.”
I folded my arms.
“You need to tell security.”
“I already did.”
“Good.”
“And you’re going back to Manhattan.”
“What?”
“Tonight.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
“This isn’t a negotiation.”
“You hired me to convince your family we’re planning a future together. If I suddenly disappear, they’ll ask why.”
“I’ll invent something.”
“And worry your mother?”
His jaw flexed.
“I won’t put you at risk for fifty thousand dollars.”
That stopped me.
There was no coldness in his voice now.
Only fear.
For me.
“Then don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t put me at risk. Protect me.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You think that’s simple?”
“For you? Yes.”
“Emily.”
“I’m staying.”
He stepped closer.
“Why?”
“Because you need someone who isn’t afraid to tell you when you’re being impossible.”
“I have Luca.”
“Luca encourages you.”
“True.”
“And because your mother deserves her birthday without fear.”
His expression softened.
“And?”
I should have stopped there.
Instead, I said, “Because I don’t want you dealing with this alone.”
Silence.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“You make this very difficult.”
“What?”
“Remembering this isn’t real.”
My breath stopped.
Before I could answer, footsteps approached.
Victoria appeared in the doorway.
Her eyes went immediately to the distance—or lack of it—between us.
“Lucia is looking for you.”
“We’re coming,” Adrian said.
Victoria left.
I exhaled.
“Adrian—”
“Later.”
But later never came.
At dinner, Victoria sat across from us.
Halfway through the meal, she raised her wineglass.
“To Adrian and Emily.”
Everyone smiled.
I did too.
Then she continued.
“May their relationship survive honesty.”
The table went quiet.
Adrian’s eyes turned cold.
“Victoria.”
“What? I’m wishing them well.”
She looked directly at me.
“After all, secrets have a way of ruining even the most convincing love stories.”
And suddenly I knew.
Victoria suspected something.
Maybe she knew everything.
And judging by Adrian’s expression, he knew it too.