Chapter 16
Alia POV
I followed Luca Ferrari down the winding path, the private villa area was like something from a luxury travel magazine–the kind I’d flip through during breaks, imagining places I’d never be able to afford.
I walked through a meticulously maintained Mediterranean garden, where olive trees and cypress created perfect shadows on the stone pathway. Ornate marble fountains bubbled softly, the water catching golden afternoon light. The Italian–style colonnades were draped with flowering vines, their sweet scent hanging in the warm air.
Finally, we reached a three–story building that could only be described as elegantly intimidating–a perfect example of architecture with its symmetrical façade and classical details. I felt distinctly out of place carrying my modest weekend bag.
“This is incredible,” I said, unable to contain myself. “Living in a place like this, you’d feel miles away from the city’s noise and stress every day.”
Luca smiled politely. “The Vittorio family values their privacy. This section of Bellavista is reserved exclusively for family and special guests.”
She led me to the entrance, where two discreet security personnel nodded respectfully.
“Your luggage, Mrs. Vittorio?” Luca asked, reaching for my bag.
Mrs. Vittorio. My cheeks flushed instantly, heart rate kicking up. The name still felt foreign–like borrowed designer clothes that didn’t quite fit.
‘I can carry it,” I insisted, clutching my bag tighter. “It’s not heavy.”
“As you wish, Mrs. Vittorio, Luca replied, that knowing smile still playing on his lips. “This villa has a comprehensive security system. No outsiders can enter without authorization. You may feel completely at ease here.”
I nodded, wondering if my discomfort was that obvious. The thought of being completely isolated with Marco in this palatial villa sent contradictory waves of excitement through me.
Inside, the villa was even more impressive–vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and antique furniture that probably cost more than my entire college education. Before I could take it all in, Marco appeared at the top of a sweeping staircase, his tall frame commanding attention even in casual linen pants and a simple white shirt.
“You’re here,” he said, his deep voice echoing slightly in the grand entryway. He descended the stairs with that effortless grace that still fascinated me, then reached for my bag. “Let me show you to our suite.”
Our suite. Not room. Suite,
i wanted to talk to you about something,” I said as we climbed the stairs.
Marco glanced at me, his expression unreadable, “Is there a problem with the accommodations?”
“No! No, thats not it, I hurried to clarify. “The villa is beautiful. It’s about… something else.”
He nodded but didn’t press further as we reached the second floor. Marco pushed open double doors to reveal a breathtaking master suite with floor–to–ceiling windows overlooking the Mediterranean.
I moved to the windows, momentarily forgetting what I wanted to discuss. The view was spectacular–the azure blue of Portano Bay seamlessly blending with the sky, creating an infinite canvas of blue.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, placing my palm against the cool glass.
Marco walks up to me and embraces my waist from behind. His presence is warm and steady. “If you like the scenery here, we can come here
aten on weekends,”
The casual offer caught me off guard, Weekend getaways to a private Mediterranean villa? This was so far removed from my student life of instant noodles and shared apartments.
Chapter 16
“I appreciate the offer,” I said carefully, “but I feel that where we’re living now is quite nice.”
I don’t want to depend on your wealth. I need to maintain my independence, especially financially.
Marco studied me with those penetrating eyes that always made me feel transparent. Before he could respond, he gestured toward a door on the far side of the suite.
“There’s a private thermal pool through there,” he said. “I suggest you use it rather than the common facilities.”
His tone shifted from suggestion to command, making me bristle slightly.
“Why? The resort pools looked amazing from the brochure.”
Marco’s jaw tightened. “No husband wants his wife wearing next to nothing where other men can see.”
sound
Two hours later, I joined my colleagues in the main activity area, where tables had been set up under a canopy of string lights. The human resources team had organized team–building games, dividing us into red, blue, yellow, and green teams based on departments.
Tina spotted me immediately, her eyes widening as she took in my appearance.
“You look stunning!” she exclaimed, then leaned closer. “And where have you been hiding? Everyone else is in the main building, but rumor has it you’re staying in the private villa section!”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, it’s just where they put the administrative staff.”
“Administrative staff? Please!” Tina rolled her eyes. “You’re the only assistant staying there. Must be nice being the boss’s favorite.”
“It’s not like that, I protested. “Actually, it’s kind of stressful living so close to the boss. I feel like I’m always on duty.”
Thankfully, before Tina could interrogate me further, the first game was announced–an Italian wine tasting speed challenge. Our red team huddled together, strategizing.
The game was simple but challenging -identify different Italian wines by region and grape variety as quickly as possible. When my turn came, I correctly identified a Barolo, a Chianti Classico, and a Montepulciano d’Abruzzo in record time, earning surprised looks from my colleagues and securing our team’s victory.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Tina asked, impressed.
“I spent a semester in Tuscany,” I shrugged. Actually, my wine knowledge comes from my past experiences.
Our celebration was cut short when a hush fell over the crowd. I turned to see Marco approaching,.
Everyone straightened, conversations died mid–sentence, and several women discreetly checked their makeup.
Marco, however, simply nodded acknowledgment and gestured for the activities to continue.
For our second game, the HR director announced, ‘we’ll be playing the traditional ‘spaghetti game‘
The spaghetti game was a classic party activity where pairs of players ate the same strand of pasta from opposite ends until they met in the middle–essentially guaranteeing an awkward kiss.
“Each team, select your best player!” the host called out.
Before I could protest, Tina pushed me forward. “Red team nominates Alia!”
“What? No!” I hissed, but it was too late. I stood awkwardly at the front as representatives from the other teams joined me.
I glanced nervously at Marco, who was watching with an unreadable expression.
Antonio Ricci, stepped forward with a charming smile.
1.05 AM
Chapter 16
*I volunteer to be Alia’s partner,” Antonio announced, earning whoops and whistles from the crowd.
My cheeks burned as I contemplated the mortification of having to nearly kiss a colleague while my husband watched.
Luca, with a mischievous glint in his eye, loudly suggested, “Why not ask Mr. Vittorio to participate?”
The crowd quiets down, just when they thought Marco would refuse. However, to everyone’s shock, Marco walks up to me amid cheers and applause.
