Andera's Pov. 

I don't know much of Italian, but I've been around Rosa long enough to know that Bella means beauty. 

He called me beautiful. 

I withdrew my hand from him, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with my old apron and flour-stained cheeks. 

His onyx eyes didn't stop searching my face. There was something with him I couldn't quite put in place. He had this rugged beauty. With an earring on one ear and a tattoo that snaked up his arm.

"Via" Rosa's voice startled me. ...