I stare out at the view before me, taking in the sights of the city. I can see the Colosseum from here, and the Vatican in the distance, too. It's only just starting to get dark, but the lights of the city are still shining bright.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sainte comments, appearing in the doorway of the balcony.

"It's incredible," I say. "I've never seen it like this before. I've only ever been here in winter."

"Italy is best in the summer."

"I can tell."

"We can buy a place here if you'd like."

"Really?" I turn towards him. He's not wearing anything but a pair of boxers, matching me in my silk dressing gown. We've been at it all day. We never made it to our lunch plans and cancelled our dinner date. We can't keep our hands off each other. It might've actually become a problem if we couldn't order room service.

I don't know what else we have planned for this trip, but I doubt we'll be making it out of the room. We probably won't even get any sleep tonight.

"Of course," he nods. "I'll put someone on it as soon as we get back."

"I love that," I smile. "You can just snap your fingers and make anything happen, regardless of how much it costs of his difficult it is."

"Money is not an object, Sofia," he stands behind me, running his fingers through my hair. "I want you to be happy with me."

"I don't need expensive things to be happy."

"it's more than that," he explains. "I want you to feel at home here. Better yet, I want to build a home with you."

I turn around in my seat, looking up at him. He's still got the same seriousness in his eyes, but his expression is a lot more gentle. I press a kiss on his stomach.

"How did you get so sweet?" I ask him. "You're not at all what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"Your father."

"Of course," he snickers.

"Can I ask what it was like to grow up with him?"

"It was fine," he tells me. "It's just what you'd expect. He was harsh, but he didn't have much time for me. He was always chasing some new woman."

"Your father's had four wives, right?"

"That's right, but he never loved any of them. I don't think he's capable of love."

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"It's nothing " he shrugs. "I can't imagine your youth was any better."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw how your parents treated you at our first dinner," he says. "They spoke to you like you were a child."

"They're just overbearing," I brush him off. "They really wanted this to work out."

"And is it?"

"Yes," I laugh. "It's working out really well."

"Do you think you'd still be here if we had met under different circumstances?"

"Probably," I nod. "I definitely would've been attracted to you but I'd either be too shy to talk to you, or I'd throw myself at you—depending on the amount of alcohol in my body."

"That's good to know," he chuckles. "I wasn't sure how you'd react—if you'd hate the idea of an arranged marriage, or even hate me."

"What would have happened if that was the case?"

"I'd let you go."

"What if you didn't like me?"

"I already did."

"But you didn't really know me," I say. "I could've annoyed the shit out of you."

"Then I would've let you go," he responds. "But you weren't annoying. You're perfect. You're perfect for me and perfect for this family."

"What about the future?" I wonder. "I'm only 23. I've only just started figuring out who I am. What if I decide that I want to be an astronaut or something?"

"Then I'd support that."

"What about kids?"

"What about them?"

"Do you want any?"

"I do," he nods. "One or two."

"What if I want 10?"

"Then we'll need to get a baby sitter."

"What if I don't want any?"

"Then we won't have any."

"But you want them."

"It's not a necessity," he shrugs. I let out an exhausted sigh.

"How can you be so good to me?" I ask.

"Because I'm falling in love with you, Sofia," he takes my hand, his eyes piercing mine. "I want to spend my life with you, even if it means that not everything may go as planned."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"But we've only known each other a few days and I know—."

"But it feels like a lifetime, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I admit. "It does."

"You don't have to worry about anything, Sofia. This isn't just about the family anymore. This is about our relationship."

"I just—," I sigh. "I worry that you're only doing this for the family."

"Sofia, I promise that is not the case."

"But you understand why I feel that way, right?"

"Of course," he nods.

"It's usually fine when we're together and we're having fun, but if I have a moment to myself, I just start worrying."

"I'm going to change that," he insists. "I'll do everything I can to convince you otherwise, even if it means never leaving your side."

I let out a light chuckle. He still looks so serious. His eyes are squinted and his brows are furrowed, just like they usually are. He's so sweet to me.

He makes me feel like a queen—the queen I dreamt of being when I used to drive past the Sainte mansion. I'm going to be that queen.

I wish I had known earlier that this is how things would turn out—that Salvatore Sainte may just have been the one for me all along. All those times my parents were berating me, or the kids in my class were picking on me, or I would shy away every time I saw Sainte...

With him, everything just feels right.

"You're really falling in love with me?" I ask.

"I am," he nods. "I uh— I got you something, actually."

"Yeah?"

He places his other arm on the table, a small velvet box in his hand. I didn't even notice it when he first walked out. He slides the box over to me. I take it, my heart thumping in my chest. I flip the lid open, revealing a gorgeous diamond ring.

"I want to marry you, Sofia," Sainte says. "I want to marry you, not for the family, but because I want to. I want to wake up next to you in ten years and argue about the training program or payments or whatever else you think of that I haven't."

"Sainte," I smile, but he's not done yet.

"We don't have to get married right away. You can take as long as you need. I don't want to push you into anything, but I want you to know I'm serious about this. I want to be with you, for me, for us, not anyone else," he insists. "I want to be with you, Sofia."

I pull the ring out of the box, sliding it onto my ring finger. It's heavy, but it fits perfectly. There's a large diamond oval in the centre, and smaller ones on each side. I love it.

I look back up at Sainte, a giant grin on my face.

"I would love to marry you, Salvatore," I say. "Right now, there's nothing I would want more."