Page 40 of Paolo DeLuca
Epilogue
FiveMonthsLater
“Oh my!” Lyric gasped as she gawked at the hotel he booked for a much-needed vacation in Venice. “Paolo, this place is beautiful.”
Paolo often told her stories about when he visited his grandfather when he was younger. He wanted her to experience his culture and a piece of his childhood. During those conversations, he’d finally convinced Lyric to move in with him. However, she insisted on keeping her job at the bar, saying she refused to be a kept woman and that she pay him back for paying her tuition. He’d been in the doghouse for weeks with that one. She blessed his soul for everything he was when she logged into her school account to pay her monthly tuition and found the semester had been paid for. Reluctantly, Paolo agreed to let her pay him back, but only half
of the tuition cost. Money that he would squirrel away in an account for her anyway. It was a good compromise. He would always bend for her.
The two of them exited the car.
“I told you this place was magical,” he reminisced, remembering the times he’d visited this place with his father.
Talking with Lyric pushed him to dig more into where and what happened to his father. When he found him, they had a tenuous but civil conversation about what he’d been doing and where he was. Antony DeLuca had been enjoying his retirement, traveling around the world without the added pressure of being in the loop of what was happening with the DeLuca family. But knowing someone killed his brother prompted him to action. Antony DeLuca would be coming home soon.
“What’s wrong?” Lyric stared in concern when she realized he wasn’t following her to the doors.
“Nothing.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, ushering her through the lobby and to the front desk. He’d not told Lyric what their conversations had led to yet.
“I’ll tell you when we get in the room.”
“Okay, spill,” Lyric insisted once they settled into the penthouse. “What’s going on?”
Paolo chuckled. “I take you out of the country and bring you to this beautiful city, with this crazy-ass view, and you want to talk about what’s on my mind?”
He briskly walked to her and pulled her into an embrace, kissing her on her forehead.
“I know you,” she claimed.
“That you do, il mio cuore batte.” He settled in beside her. “I spoke to mio padre.”
Lyric gasped, surprised because this was the first time he’d uttered a single word to her about his father.
“That’s good, right?”
“I suppose it is,” Paolo replied. “He’s been enjoying his retirement from the family.”
Lyric nodded, then hugged him close. “I’m glad you searched and reached out to him.
I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you.”
Paolo shook his head. “I guess you do know me, but I admit, it was good to know he was still alive.”
Lyric nodded. “And maybe opening the lines of more communication?”
Paolo laughed deeply. He’d not laughed this much until Lyric came into his life. “Let’s not push it.” He led Lyric to the couch, sitting next to her.
“There’s something else,” she said, studying his face.
She looked at him now with laser focus, like she did when she painted, with such scrutiny it made him want to look away. But he loved how observant she was. It was why he’d uncovered Cali’s plan all those months ago.
Paolo dug inside his jacket pocket, retrieving the small burgundy velvet box that could make him the happiest man in the world or would bring him to his knees.
It was crazy how Lyric had the ability to take him down like that, but honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. This was what he and his father had spoken of. How much
he loved Lyric and would do anything for her that it scared him. His father said to him it meant she was the one. It was the same thing he felt with his mother, long gone since Paolo was a small boy. He barely remembered her. Lyric was right. The lines of communication were open if he could learn more about his mother. Paolo slid off the couch and onto one knee in front of Lyric. He opened the box. Snuggled inside was a square emerald, encrusted in diamonds. He loved the color green against her skin. When he saw the ring, it reminded him of the dress she wore at the museum that night.
“My heartbeat, will you marry me?”
