Amore mio 2

66.

Gretchen's P.O.V.

Despite being in Paris for an entire week for the most sensual and gorgeous photoshoot for Saint Laurent, free from the responsibilities of children and a husband, my best friend appeared absolutely miserable. 

Our accommodation was nothing short of luxurious – a splendid suite in the finest hotel accompanied by champagne, flowers, and an array of delectable desserts - courtesy of the establishment. The generosity extended beyond the hotel's offerings, as Saint Laurent inundated her with numerous bonuses and gifts, leaving us in a delightful quandary of what to open first. Despite the lavish surroundings and the freedom of seven child-free days, her demeanour suggested a surprising lack of joy.

What the fuck was there to complain about!?

My eyes surveyed the room as I let out a sigh of bewilderment. The expression on the woman's face perplexed me, and I struggled to comprehend the subtle pout adorning her full, rosy lips. 

She casually placed the key card on the surface, an image in stark contrast to the sinfully hot woman I had witnessed earlier. Gone were the allure of the tiny, short dress, the seductive makeup, and the opulent hairstyle that had characterized her earlier pose. The transformation left me questioning the stark dichotomy between the two images of the same person.

"Survey your surroundings, C. It's a paradise tailored for any woman, particularly one who is a mother to 16 children." - I attempted to articulate my perspective, grappling with the belief that, for her, this might be more akin to a nightmarish ordeal than the heavenly experience it seemed to be.

"I am fine."- she murmured, her expression resembling the forlorn gaze of the world's saddest puppy.

"Yeah, your act was quite convincing."- I mumbled with a hint of amusement, punctuating the moment by popping open a bottle of champagne.

"I'm surprised your husband isn't here, fiercely guarding you like some Doberman."- I remarked, still grappling with the bewildering thought.

It had been 48 hours.

The fact that Leonardo Vincenzo Russo endured 48 hours without his wife was nothing short of a fucking miracle.

I couldn't help but wonder if they were engaged in a constant stream of texts and calls during this time.

Regardless, his absence left me impressed and intrigued. 

The man could barely breathe without Camila, so the fact that he was still in Florence was unbelievable as fuck.

Opting to lift the spirits of my dejected best friend, I carefully selected the most alluring silk and lace pyjamas for both of us. I then arranged for a delectable pasta dish featuring the rich flavours of quatro formaggi. To add a dash of excitement to our evening, I chose the spiciest movie available for our entertainment. 

"Must it be the filthiest movie out there?"- C asked the look of the most innocent angel and I chuckled as I shook my head and turned on the movie.

"C, I love you so fucking much, but there is nothing in this world that will make me believe that you have not heard of or, better yet, tried those things because your hubby looks like he fucks like a porn star and you, my cute, innocent friend, have 16 kids, so nope. We are watching this."-unapologetically, I voiced my sentiment and couldn't help but chuckle as a rosy blush painted her cheeks. 

However, our cheerful and playful atmosphere was abruptly disrupted by the creaking sound of the door swinging open.

"Since when does the room service have the key card?"- I found myself muttering incredulously, a raised brow accompanying my words