The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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I tighten my arms around her and pull her close. She laughs out loud again.

“This is the most hilarious show ever,” she tells me.

I smile into her hair. “I know, bella,” I lie. “I know.”

Olivia

We drive up the huge driveway through the rolling green hills and I look around in awe. Just when I think that I’ve become accustomed to Enrico’s money, he brings me here to this next level mansion, his mother’s house.

“She knows we’re coming, right?” I ask nervously.

His eyes flick over as he concentrates on the road. “Of course, she does.”

I glance behind us to see the cavalcade of cars trailing us up the majestic road that pretends to be a driveway.

“What did she say when you said you were bringing me here?” I ask.

He frowns at my stupid question and he holds his hand up as it rests on top of the steering wheel. “Good, see you then.”

“Oh right.” I nod. “She knows I’m Australian, right?”

“Yes.”

I get a vision of her hurling abuse in Italian and chasing me away from her beloved boy with a rolling pin. “Because I just want to know what her reaction will be to me.”

“Olivia.” Enrico puts his hand on my thigh. “Stop worrying.”

I nod as I peer out the window at all the white horses in the paddocks. I turn to him suddenly panicked. “She won’t want to go horse riding, will she?” My face falls in horror. “Because I don’t know how to ride horses, Enrico. It’s just going to awkward and she’ll hate me forever.”

He breaks into a deep chuckle and squeezes my thigh. “You ride very well.”

“This isn’t funny,” I snap.

“Olivia.” He looks over at me. “My mother just wants to see me happy.”

My worried eyes hold his.

“And I am.” He smiles broadly. “Stupidly happy.”

I nod, mollified for the moment. “Okay.” We pull up to the house and my heart begins to pump hard.

Please let her like me. Please let her like me.

I don’t know much about Italy, and I don’t know much about mother-in-law’s. But I do know that Italian mothers are supposed to be crazy possessive over their children. Especially their sons.

I look down at myself and smooth my dress. “Are you sure I look alright?” I whisper. “Maybe I should have worn pants?”

He rolls his eyes and gets out of the car and I sit nervously as he comes around and opens my door. The property is huge and fancy, even the gates back at the road were gilded gold. There is security everywhere and this is next level fucking terrifying.

“I’m so nervous,” I tell him.

“Really?” he says with a sexy wink as he helps me out of the car. “I would never have guessed.”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” I whisper as he takes my hand in his.

“She will, but it won’t matter if she doesn’t.” He kisses me softly. “Because I like you.”

“I thought you loved me.” I frown.

“That, too.” He smirks.

It’s Saturday morning and we are at his mother’s house. He’s brought me here to meet them. His grandmother is away this weekend. I know he’s been strategically waiting for a chance to introduce me to them when she’s not here.

Hand in hand we walk up the front steps and as I hold my breath, he opens the door.

A beautiful woman comes into view. I remember her from the ball before Enrico and I got back together. She has long dark hair that’s perfectly styled. She’s wearing a black fitted dress with high heels. Not exactly what I would call Saturday loungewear.

She looks like some exotic Italian movie star, so glamourous and beautiful. Knowing her history, I was expecting a mousy woman of some sort, but this woman is a knockout.

“Hello, my son,” she says, her voice is soft, hushed and her accent is beautiful.

She kisses Enrico on both cheeks.

Enrico’s eyes come to me and he smiles proudly. “Mamma, please meet my Olivia and Olivia, may I present my mother, Bianca Ferrara.”

She smiles and holds out her hand. “Hello, Olivia. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Hello.” I smile as I shake her hand, nerves tumble in my stomach, I feel like I’m about to swallow my tongue. “So, lovely to meet you, too.”

Enrico turns to the girl who has just appeared beside his mother. “And this is my pride and joy, Francesca.” He presents a young girl, his only sister. She’s young, beautiful in a crème tracksuit, she has long thick dark hair and the most unusual colored eyes I’ve ever seen. She looks like a fashion model.

Bianca holds her arm out in a welcoming gesture. “Please, do come in.” She turns and walks down the hall as if it’s a catwalk and I widen my eyes at Enrico. He smiles playfully and squeezes my hand. I’m glad he thinks this is so amusing, I’m beyond terrified.



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