Alessio’s mother—whose name I quickly learned was Laurie, looped her arm through mine with a warm smile. “Come, cara mia, I’ll show you to your room. You must be tired after all that traveling.”
I shot Alessio a helpless look over my shoulder, but he only shrugged, his expression unreadable.
His father chuckled softly. “Good luck.”
“Oh, hush,” his mother called back, her tone teasing as she began to lead me down the hall.
The interior of the guesthouse was every bit as stunning as the exterior. The floors were polished marble, cool beneath our feet, and the walls were adorned with beautiful paintings that looked old enough to be worth a fortune.
“Do you like it?” Laurie asked, gesturing around as we walked.
“It’s… incredible,” I admitted, glancing at the intricate molding on the ceil
