CRISTIANO RARELY DID things for others, and he never did anything he did not want to do.
But perhaps there was something in do-gooding after all. Because the moment he decided to buy a house to please his wife, he’d discovered one for sale on the Amalfi Coast that was spectacularly satisfying for him to acquire. Especially at a cut-rate price.
Just weeks after he’d made his promise to her, their Rolls-Royce approached the magnificent estate on the rugged cliffs of the Amalfi Coast a short distance from the village of Cavello. A wave of euphoria went through Cristiano.
It was his.
He remembered the first time he’d passed through this same tall wrought-iron gate, surrounded by old stone walls. He’d been young then, newly orphaned, utterly penniless. And obsessed with revenge.
Luigi Bennato had been kind from the beginning. Strange for a man who’d ruthlessly rejected his infant son, in order to focus on building his small luxury hotel chain. But Cristiano had been coldly determined to impress him. And he had. Bennato had seen something in eighteen-year-old Cristiano, something no one else had.
But he didn’t detect everything. He didn’t see that Cristiano was his long-abandoned son.
Why would he? Even if he’d remembered Cristiano’s mother, her name then had been Violetta Rossi. Moretti was the name of the man who’d been her husband when Cristiano was born. Her first husband. Her second husband had been an Englishman, her third an American. Both horrible stepfathers, whose only gift to Cristiano had been teaching him English. After a third screaming divorce, his mother had given up on marriage and focused on love affairs that were increasingly short, violent and toxic.
But Luigi Bennato was the man who’d destroyed her first. According to Violetta, before she’d met him, she’d been an innocent virgin who’d never tasted wine. Bennato had seduced her, then tossed her out of his life when she’d fallen pregnant and refused to have the abortion he demanded.
His mother had told Cristiano the story repeatedly when he was growing up. She’d always ended it the same way. “And Luigi was right,” she’d say with a swill of bourbon and a raspy cough. “I should have done what he wanted. Then I’d be happy!”
After his mother’s death, eighteen-year-old Cristiano had stood at her grave and felt nothing. What kind of man would feel nothing at the death of his own mother?
It was then that he knew himself for a monster.
But, standing in the rain, he’d had a new thought, one that lit a fire deep inside him. One that made him feel warm for the first time in his life.
Revenge. He had let the word settle against his lips, caressing it like a lover.
Vendetta. He’d loved the rhythm in his mouth.
Rivincita. He’d felt his tongue brush softly against his teeth.
He would have his revenge on the man who’d first made his mother a monster, so she in turn could make one of Cristiano.
And he’d had his revenge. In just three years, Cristiano got his vengeance. He’d claimed the ruined palazzo in Rome for himself, with Luigi’s rival as his investor. He’d left Luigi’s company in tatters.
Cristiano marked his adulthood from that moment. His revenge had been the act that had defined his life. The first step on a path that had made him richer than his wildest dreams.
The truth was it had been almost too easy. He still couldn’t believe how quickly and completely Bennato had trusted him. It was almost, he thought sardonically, as if the man had wanted to be destroyed.
Now Cristiano was more powerful than Luigi Bennato had ever been. He was famous. Better in every way.
It still wasn’t enough. Some part of him craved more, wanted to crush the ashes of the man’s life smaller still. Which was why he’d chosen Cavello as the site of his newest Campania Hotel.
The old man’s business had long since gone bankrupt, without enough capital to refurbish the hotels to satisfy the constant demands of perfection that a wealthy clientele required. Bennato’s three small luxury hotels, once the jewels of Capri, Sardinia and Sorrento, had all long been demolished and replaced.
Several times over the years, Luigi had tried to contact him. Cristiano had never responded. He had no interest in listening to the man’s angry recriminations. Let the man figure out for himself why Cristiano had destroyed him.
It was now seventeen years after he’d first entered the stately villa once owned by Bennato, and Cristiano had bought it for himself. The bankrupt, lonely old man was living in the former housekeeper’s tiny house outside Cavello.
Life could be full of unexpected joys, Cristiano thought with satisfaction. As the Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of the grand courtyard of the elegant nineteenth-century villa, he smiled to himself, glancing at Hallie, waiting for her reaction.
Her eyes were huge as she looked from the villa to the terraced, manicured gardens overlooking the sea. She’s in shock, he thought smugly. He was already keenly anticipating the sensual expressions of her gratitude later.
Their driver, Marco, opened the door and helped Hallie out of the car with the baby. Behind them parked an SUV carrying Agata, Salvatore and all the luggage.
Hallie’s mouth was open as she looked out over the vastness of the estate, which had once been owned by the King of Naples.
“Welcome to your new home,” Cristiano said. He waited for her cries of joy, for her to fling her arms around him and kiss him with the intensity of her delight.
She simply held their baby, looking up blankly at the palatial villa.
“Our home,” he said encouragingly. “Just like you wanted.”
Looking at him, Hallie shook her head. “This wasn’t what I had in mind at all.”
“It’s the grandest house on the Amalfi Coast. What can you possibly dislike?”
“It’s too big.”
“Too big?” he said incredulously. How could anything be too big?
Hallie looked at him. “It’s like a hotel.”
“We’ll be the only ones living here.”
“We’ll need a megaphone to find each other.”
He frowned. “And the gardens—what do you find wrong with those?”
Slowly she looked around the manicured gardens, from the formal hedge maze to the perfectly arranged flowers and palm trees overlooking the blue Tyrrhenian Sea.
“It’s...like a park,” she said. Turning back to face him, she shook her head. “How can I possibly take care of it all?”
“We’ll have staff, of course.”
“Oh.” She looked oddly dejected. Not exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for.
“Would you prefer a sad, broken-down apartment?” he said shortly. “Where you can hear neighbors screaming and your windows get smashed by thieves? Where the electricity is often out and even your few, most precious possessions can disappear at any moment to pay for—”
For your mother’s whiskey, he’d almost said. He caught himself just in time.
“No. Of course not.” Putting her hand on his arm, Hallie gave him an apologetic smile. “You’re right. I’m being a jerk.”
He didn’t respond. He was suddenly picturing his mother the last time he’d seen her. Violetta’s face had been bruised and bleeding from her lover’s fists, and she’d been screaming at Cristiano for trying to defend her. That was his last memory of her face. He’d returned hours later to find her house ablaze.
He could still feel the searing pain of the flames when he’d nearly died trying to get inside to save her. He could hear the crackle of the fire and the furious howl of grief that rose to the dark sky when they brought her body out of the embers and ash.
“I’m so sorry.” Feeling Hallie’s hand against his cheek, he focused on her again. “I’ve made you upset, haven’t I?”
“No,” he bit out.
“I can see I have. I’m sorry for sounding so ungrateful. The house is beautiful. Thank you.”
Reaching up on her tiptoes, she kissed him. Taking her roughly in his arms, he kissed her back hungrily until their baby, still held on Hallie’s hip, complained about the close quarters, and they both pulled away with rueful laughs.
Tilting her head back to look at the palatial villa, she said, “I’ll try to get used to it.”
Cristiano took her hand. “Come see inside.”
As they walked through the long hallways, over the tiled floors and past the antique furniture and tapestries, Hallie obligingly oohed and aahed over every detail he pointed out. Having gotten over the initial shock, she seemed determined to be pleased.
He’d arranged for new furniture to be put in the master bedroom and the baby’s nursery next door. Finally they walked out onto the villa’s wide terrace and Hallie approached the railing. Beneath the hot August sun, hungrily she drank in the incredible view as soft sea breezes lazily blew tendrils of her hair.
“Wow. Maybe this place isn’t so bad.” With a laugh, she glanced back at him with sparkling eyes.
But Cristiano didn’t return her smile. As he looked out at the magnificent view of the sea and the village clinging precipitously to the rugged cliffs on the other side of the bay, he was overwhelmed by the memory of the last time he’d stood on this terrace. He could still see Luigi’s bright eyes, the man’s chubby cheeks smiling as he’d said, “My boy, this palazzo in Rome, this is going to be the thing for us! It will take our company global!”
Our company, Luigi had said. Our. The memory was like a rough piece of cut glass on Cristiano’s soul because, after three years of working for the man, Cristiano had started to like him, even respect him. Bennato had been generous, kind. He’d treated Cristiano almost like a son.
He shook the memory away angrily. If Bennato had wanted a son, he shouldn’t have thrown Violetta and Cristiano away like trash. The old man deserved what he’d gotten. Bennato was the one who’d taught Cristiano the lesson: Life meant every man for himself.
And yet, suddenly, Cristiano didn’t enjoy owning the villa as much as he’d thought he would. Thinking of the times he’d ignored Luigi’s calls over the years, he wondered what the old man would have said.
“The view is incredible,” Hallie whispered. She wiped her eyes surreptitiously. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me. You don’t know how I’ve longed to have a real home where we can stay forever and ever.”
He opened his mouth to inform her that after the Cavello hotel opened in two weeks, they would still be traveling to Asia on schedule. He’d bought this house as a temporary amusement, perhaps a long-term investment. But he doubted they’d return to Italy for another six months, or perhaps even a year.
As he looked down at her, though, the happiness in Hallie’s face made him change his mind. Her caramel-brown eyes glowed at him.
He didn’t want her to stop looking at him that way.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly, taking her hand. Together they looked out at the picturesque rocky coastline plummeting into the blue sea.
Later that night, as they slept together in the palatial master bedroom, with the windows open to salty sea breezes scented with tropical flowers, Hallie made him very, very glad that he’d made her so happy.
But he could make her happy anywhere, Cristiano told himself afterward, as she slept so contentedly in his arms. He had nothing to feel guilty about. Yes, he’d bought her a house. He’d never promised they would stay.
Cristiano looked toward the terrace, toward the moonlit sea. His arms tightened around his wife. He had promised himself long ago never to sacrifice his own needs for another’s. And he never would.
Life meant every man for himself, he thought. Even in marriage.
* * *
After just two weeks of living in her new home on the Amalfi Coast, Hallie felt she had fallen into sunshine and joy.
She sang all the time. Songs about dreaming of love and falling in love and being in love.
For no particular reason, of course.
Hallie was thrilled to have a home at last. A place, as she’d told her husband, where they could stay forever and ever. Even as formal as the villa was, with its endless gardens, the view was breathtaking from every window, looking out with a sharp drop to the sea. And when she went outside the villa’s gate, no one bothered her here. No paparazzi. No fashion bloggers sneaking pictures of Jack. Here, Hallie could just be herself.
It was true that Cristiano hadn’t been around much. He often worked eighteen-hour days, personally overseeing the final touches of the lavish new hotel in Cavello, on the opposite cliff, while still running his worldwide empire.
And if he’d broken her dinner rules a few times, disappearing from the house before dawn and not returning until well after midnight when she and Jack were asleep, well, she’d decided to bend the rules. He was busy. Hallie could understand. He’d given her what she wanted most—a home, and she’d tried to be flexible. She hadn’t even complained.
But she was relieved it was almost over. Tonight, the Campania Hotel Cavello would have its grand opening gala, and then Cristiano would be able to spend more time in their new home. They could finally be together as a family.
His constant absence had to be why, in spite of the beauty and comfort, this villa still didn’t feel quite like home to her. Maybe it would just take time. But she still didn’t have the feeling of home she’d had as a child, living with her family in the rickety wooden house in the mountains.
True, there was a staff of four to oversee the house and gardens. It sometimes made her uncomfortable having servants cook and clean and pull weeds for her, but she’d told herself she’d get used to it. She should be grateful. All she had to do was care for her baby, decorate her home as she pleased, bake cookies if she felt like it, and water any flowers she wished.
Still, in spite of being surrounded by servants and having Jack with her, sometimes her days felt lonely.
Since they’d arrived on the Amalfi Coast, she’d seen Cristiano only at night, in the dark, when he woke her up to set her body on fire with bliss. Then, in the morning, when she woke, he was always gone. Like some tantalizingly sweet dream.
Strange she should feel lonely when she was never alone. Even when she walked to the village with the baby, Cristiano insisted she take Salvatore with them. It bewildered her because there were no paparazzi here, and it was hard enough trying to make new friends, given her lack of Italian, without also having a hulking bodyguard standing behind her, scowling behind his sunglasses.
But the villagers were friendly and interested in meeting the wife of the man who’d brought so much new employment to the area. And baby Jack, with his bright smile and chubby cheeks, charmed everyone he met, even on the rare occasions when he cried.
Hallie was slowly learning Italian from Agata, who was very patient with her. Living in a brand-new country where she didn’t speak the language, she was trying her best to settle in, make friends, to find a dentist and doctor and grocery store, and do everything she could to make the Amalfi Coast feel like home.
Except for the wistful memory of her childhood home, Hallie didn’t miss West Virginia. She missed New York. But she tried to push that feeling away. Hadn’t she told Cristiano that their home could be anywhere? If Italy was the place he loved most, then she would be happy here. She would try to forget New York, especially since every time she tried to text or phone Tess and Lola lately, they seemed distracted. No wonder, with newborns.
But she missed their friendship.
The afternoon before the gala, Hallie played with Jack in the huge formal salon, kissing his fat baby feet as he lay stretched out on a blanket beneath a flood of afternoon sunshine. Soon, Cristiano would come home and they’d get ready to go to the gala together. As she sang yet another song about true love, she knew tonight would be magical. After tonight, their lives could truly begin.
Her voice suddenly choked off as she realized she did know happy songs after all. Love songs.
Wide-eyed, Hallie looked out the wide windows at the palm trees and blue sky. She stared down at her cooing baby, his dark eyes exactly like Cristiano’s.
And she gasped aloud, covering her mouth with her hand.
There was a reason she’d been singing only happy love songs lately.
Because she felt them.
She was in love with Cristiano.
Her husband. Her ex-boss. The man she’d once hated. The man she’d never thought she could trust.
She trusted him now. He’d become a real father, a real husband. He’d brought her home. He’d given her what she’d dreamed of most: a family.
She loved him for everything he’d done for her. For the way he’d made her feel. For the person he’d encouraged her to be. Bold. Fearless.
Was she fearless enough to tell him she loved him?
Hallie gulped.
If she did, would his handsome face light up? Would he say, “And I love you, cara mia,” then kiss her senseless?
Or would he just look at her coldly, and say nothing?
Love had never been part of the deal. Cristiano had told her outright he didn’t think he was capable of it.
Yet, he treated her as if he did love her. Marrying her. Buying her this magnificent home. Giving up his lifestyle of constantly traveling in order to remain here, in one place. Just to make her happy.
She put her hand on her forehead. What should she do? Should she remain silent and keep things safely as they were?
Or should she take the chance and risk everything in their marriage to tell him she loved him?
“It’s just arrived from Rome, signora,” said Agata, coming into the salon with a designer garment bag in her arms.
“The dress,” Hallie said, rising unsteadily to her feet. “Cristiano told me he’d called in a favor with a designer, to send me a special dress to wear tonight.”
“Sì.” The Italian woman didn’t meet her eyes, but Agata had been acting strangely all day. Taking the garment bag from her, Hallie laid it across the elegant sofa. Unzipping the bag, she discovered a breathtaking strapless red ball gown with a sweetheart bodice and full skirts. It was a dream dress. A Cinderella dress.
Hallie touched the fabric in awe.
“Maybe he does love me,” she whispered.
Agata made a strange noise.
“What?”
The Italian woman cleared her throat. “Cristiano told me not to say anything. He intends to tell you himself.”
“Tell me what?” Hallie said, holding up the beautiful red gown and looking at herself dreamily in the mirror. Maybe she’d tell him she loved him tonight, while they were dancing at the gala. If she could just be brave enough, maybe she’d be rewarded. Maybe against all odds, he’d pull her closer in his arms and—
“You are a good woman, signora. What he is doing is not right, keeping it from you.”
Hallie turned in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”
“Then again, I understand why he hates this house and wants to be away as soon as he can.”
Hallie sucked in her breath. “Cristiano doesn’t hate this house!”
The older woman looked at her sadly. “He does, signora. Because of the man who used to own it.” She turned away. “And that is why, while you are at the ball tonight, he has ordered me to pack all your things. Tomorrow, you leave for Asia. Me, I have refused to go. I will return to Rome, close to my grandchildren.”
“Leaving?” Hallie drew back. “But we just got here! It’s our home! We’re not leaving our home. And I don’t want you to leave us!” Agata had started to feel like family.
“I’m sorry, signora. He said to pack everything,” she said quietly. “I doubt you’re ever coming back.”
Anguish went through Hallie. It couldn’t be true.
And, in a flash, she knew it was.
She’d thought Cristiano had changed, that he’d been willing to sacrifice his restless travel for her and actually settle down in one place.
But he hadn’t changed at all. This so-called home was temporary, like everything else in his life.
And Cristiano had told Agata first. Before his own wife.
Hallie’s hands clenched at her sides. While she’d been trying to compromise, to make this place her home, he’d been lying to her. He’d never intended to settle down at all.
Hallie looked around the villa. This antique furniture wasn’t to her taste. It was too big, too fancy, but since they’d arrived, she’d convinced herself to overlook that, so badly had she wanted a home.
Now he wanted to drag her and the baby back to his empty lifestyle of moving from hotel to hotel to hotel?
All she wanted, all she’d ever wanted since her parents and brother had died, was a home. A family. A place in the world.
Hallie choked out, “If he hates this villa, why did he buy it?”
Agata looked at her sadly, her wrinkled eyes mournful. “He bought it for the same reason he hates it. Because the man who once owned it was his friend, then his enemy. Luigi Bennato was the first to give him a real job. He taught him how to run a hotel. Then Cristiano turned on him. Ruined him.”
Hallie shivered as she heard the echo of Cristiano’s voice. I met a man who owned a small hotel chain in southern Italy. I convinced him to hire me and teach me everything he knew. Then I betrayed him.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know more. In a small voice, she said, “What happened?”
“I worked for Luigi,” Agata said. “Before I worked for Cristiano. I still don’t understand. For three years, they worked together, as close as father and son. Cristiano used his charm and Luigi’s money to convince a widowed countess to sell her palazzo in Rome. Then, instead of developing the hotel together as they’d planned, at the last minute Cristiano took the information to one of the international hotel chains. He cut Luigi out of the deal. Left him bankrupt.”
Hallie stared at the older woman, cold with shock. “But why?”
“I still do not know. Yet, even after Cristiano betrayed him, Luigi tried to protect him. He even convinced me to accept Cristiano’s job offer in Rome. ‘The boy’s still so young,’ Luigi told me. ‘He’ll need someone he can trust.’ So I left Luigi’s hotel for Cristiano’s. And now he’s a broken man. He has no family, no money. He lives in an old shack. I feel badly for him.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Hallie whispered.
Agata looked at her. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Who?”
“Luigi Bennato.”
Hallie stared at her in shock. “Why would he want to talk to me?”
“I do not know.” The white-haired woman looked at her steadily. “All I know is your husband owes him a debt.”
Meet the old man Cristiano had betrayed? Hallie felt caught between fear, curiosity and loyalty to Cristiano. “I couldn’t. Besides,” she said hesitantly, “how do I know he wouldn’t attack me or something?”
“Luigi?” Agata gave a low laugh. “He has a good heart. Better than Cristiano’s. Luigi is no risk to you. He’s waiting in the forest on the other side of the gate.”
A trickle of fear went down the back of her neck. “He’s here? Now?”
“Tomorrow you leave Cavello, possibly never to return. He might not live until your next visit. I told him I would ask you. If you wish to see him, it is your choice.”
Hallie stared at her, a lump in her throat.
“I’ll leave you to get ready for the gala. I need to pack for your trip.” She sighed. “And my own back to Rome. Tonight will be my last time watching Jack, while you’re at the gala.” Agata smiled sadly. “I will miss you both.”
“Won’t you come with us?”
“I’m sorry.” The older woman’s eyes lifted apologetically. “I do not want to leave Italy. It’s my home. My place is here.”
Hallie hugged her hard. After Agata left her in the salon, she was still blinking back tears, but she couldn’t blame the older woman for not wanting to endlessly circle the globe. Hallie didn’t want to do it, either.
She wanted a real home. She wanted to be surrounded by the people she cared about and who cared about her.
She wanted to love her husband, and she wanted him to love her back.
Hallie sucked in her breath. What would she do about Luigi Bennato?
Her eyes fell on her baby, playing happily on his blanket. She couldn’t go behind Cristiano’s back to talk to the man he’d betrayed. He wouldn’t like it. At all.
But then—Hallie’s face suddenly hardened—he’d done a few things lately that she didn’t like, either.
She picked up her cooing baby. Crossing to the foyer, she grabbed the stroller in quick decision. If Cristiano wouldn’t explain anything to her, if he wouldn’t tell her about his past or open his heart, she would find out without his help.
If she loved him, she had to try to understand.
“Going somewhere?” Her bodyguard, Salvatore, stood in the doorway, looking at the stroller.
Blushing, she said quickly, “Oh, no, I just wanted to clean the stroller.”
“All right. I’m going to lunch.”
Hallie waited until the bodyguard had gone into the kitchen to have his usual lunch and flirtation with one of the maids. Quickly she tucked Jack into the stroller, along with a pacifier, a blanket and an extra diaper just in case, and crept quietly out of the villa.
It felt scary and exhilarating to go by herself. She realized that this was the first time she’d gone out alone since the day she’d told Cristiano about the baby, back at his hotel in New York.
Jack cooed happily in the sunshine as she walked swiftly toward the rough stone walls leading to the gate. Around the side, some distance up the hill, she saw an old man peeking through the trees. She stopped, wondering if she was making a mistake.
Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and pushed the stroller forward.
“Signora Moretti—you are she, yes?” said the old man anxiously as she came forward. He was plump, and his hair was gray, and there was something about him that seemed oddly familiar.
Hallie took a deep breath. “You wanted to talk to me?”
She was startled to see tears in the old man’s rheumy eyes. “Cristiano’s wife,” he whispered. “I have seen pictures of you.” His gaze fell to Jack, who was waving his fat arms, as he whispered, “And his son?”
He’d seen pictures of them? Oh, yes, right—she was famous. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Bennato. I don’t know the whole story between you. But I know my husband betrayed you. You must hate him for what he did to you.”
“Hate him?” The old man’s dark eyes looked strangely familiar. She tried to think who they reminded her of. He shook his head. “I am proud of him for doing so well. I am glad for him to have my villa.”
Her lips parted. Surely no one could be that kind, no matter what Agata had said. “That is very generous...”
“An old man like me, I don’t need a big house.” He looked at the baby with longing, then lifted his tearful gaze. “I’m so happy to meet you both.”
“But why? After the way Cristiano betrayed you, why would you...?”
Then she looked more closely at the old man’s eyes. Black, like obsidian. Like her baby’s.
Like her husband’s.
“Cristiano’s your son,” she whispered. “You’re the father who abandoned him.”
Luigi gave her a tearful smile. “I saw a picture of Violetta in the paper after she died in the fire. Her last name had changed, but I recognized her. When I read she was survived by an eighteen-year-old son, I was desperate to find him. Before I could—” he took a deep breath “—Cristiano himself showed up at my hotel, asking for a job.”
“You knew he was your son?”
“I thought...maybe. He looked like I did when I was young. And Violetta had told me she was pregnant with my child. But sometimes she lied to me, especially when she was drinking. One day, I could take it no longer and told her we were through. She said she was pregnant, so I tried to make it work. I made her stop drinking. But she screamed I was making her a prisoner. When she was six months pregnant, she disappeared. I never saw her again.”
“Why didn’t you tell Cristiano? He thinks his father abandoned him!”
“I did abandon him.” The old man’s voice trembled. “I tried so hard to find them. But I should have tried harder. I never should have given up. What I read about the life Violetta was living before she died...” He shuddered. “I cannot imagine what that boy went through as a child. When Cristiano showed up at my door asking for a job, he seemed to have no idea I might be his father. He said he just wanted to work at the best boutique hotel in Italy. I thought it was a miraculous coincidence.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I decided I couldn’t reveal myself as his father, not until I was sure it was true. But I kept putting off the test. I think I was afraid,” he said quietly. “By the time I finally stole a hair off his brush and sent it in for the test, it was too late. The day he betrayed me...” His voice trailed off as he looked out at the sea. “That was the same day I got proof he was my son.”
“So why didn’t you say something?” Hallie cried. He gave her a small smile.
“It was too late. I didn’t want to cause him pain. He had no idea I was his father when he betrayed me. And I thought...perhaps I deserved it. So I let him go.”
Closing her eyes, Hallie took a deep breath, pain filling her heart. She looked down at her happy baby. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing him. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Luigi gave a wistful smile. “He has done well, my boy. He’s built his own hotel empire over the last fifteen years. He’s been more successful than I ever was.” He blinked fast. “He is my only family. When he refused to answer my phone calls, I tried to accept it. But then I read about him having a wife and child...” More tears filled his rheumy eyes as he gently stroked Jack’s head. “He’s my grandson. You’re my daughter-in-law. But my son...” He lifted his gaze. “Please. You must convince him to speak to me.”
Hallie hugged the old man tightly, wiping away her own tears. “I’ll make this right,” she said softly. “I swear to you.”
When she finally returned to the villa, the afternoon was growing late. Hallie was still shivering with emotion and regret. How would she tell her husband that the man he’d betrayed had been his own father?
Her baby had fallen asleep in his stroller so she left him in the foyer when she heard Cristiano calling her from the salon. Nervously she went to see him.
She found Cristiano pacing angrily. When she entered the salon, he turned to her, his expression furious.
“Where have you been?” he said tersely.
She stopped. “On a walk.”
“I told you to always take Salvatore!”
“I wanted to be alone.” She bit her lip, trying to think of how to break the news to him. She wanted to do it gently and couldn’t. Her brain was exploding. “I met your father.”
“What?” Eyes wide, Cristiano stumbled back. “What are you talking about?”
“I got a message that a man wanted to meet me. So I went to talk to him.” She looked at her husband anxiously. “Perhaps you should sit down...”
He didn’t move. “You met my father?”
“I’m afraid this is going to be a big shock.” She took a deep breath, then said very gently, “Cristiano, your father is Luigi Bennato.”
For a long moment, he stared at her. Then he turned away, his shoulders shaking. At first, she thought he was crying. Then she realized he was laughing. His laugh was harsh and strange.
Hallie stared at him, wondering if the shock of the news had disjointed her husband’s mind.
“Don’t you understand, Cristiano?” she said in a low voice. Reaching out, she put her hand on his shoulder. “The man you betrayed—he’s your father. I’m so sorry. Such a horrible coincidence—”
“Coincidence?” He whirled on her, silhouetted in front of the windows overlooking the sea. His dark eyes glittered. “I knew Bennato was my father. Of course I knew! And from the moment my mother died, I vowed to make him pay!”
Hallie drew back, astonished. She whispered, “You knew?”
“My mother told me how he ruined her life. She was just an innocent girl when he seduced her. He gave her her first drink, and when she got pregnant, he told her to go to hell!”
Hallie thought of Luigi’s heartsick face, at the tears in his wrinkled eyes when he said, “I tried so hard to find them. But I should have tried harder. I never should have given up.”
“Luigi told me, after Violetta got pregnant,” she said slowly, “he tried to make her stop drinking. But she hated that, and she ran away. He said he tried so hard to find you—”
“He was lying,” Cristiano said coldly.
She shook her head. “I believed him.”
“Of course you did.” His lips twisted in a sneer. “A man as devious as Bennato could easily twist your innocent little heart.”
His scorn made her shiver. She lifted her chin. “You’re wrong. If you’d only speak to him—”
“What else did he say?” He came closer to her, his face like stone. His powerful body left her in shadow.
Hallie saw the cloud of darkness around him, and for the first time she was afraid.
This was the darkness she’d feared. The darkness she hadn’t wanted to see.
“You’ll never talk to him, will you?” she whispered. “You hate him beyond all reason. You’ll never be free.”
Cristiano’s black eyes narrowed into slits as he repeated dangerously, “What did he say?”
“He regrets not protecting you when you were a child. He’s all alone now. He wants to make amends. He wants a family.”
“He wants money.”
“No.” She shook her head eagerly. “If you’d seen his expression when he touched Jack’s head—”
“Jack?” His expression changed, then his folded hands dropped to his sides as he roared, “You let him touch our son?”
“Of course I did. He’s Jack’s grandfather!”
“Don’t call him that!” Furious, he turned away. “Where is Jack?”
“Sleeping in his stroller. In the foyer—”
Cristiano strode out of the salon. When she caught up with him in the foyer, she found him cradling their sleeping baby tenderly against his powerful chest. When he looked up at Hallie, his dark eyes glittered.
“You will never,” he said in a low voice, “talk to that man again. Or allow our son anywhere near him.”
His voice frightened her. “You’re being ridiculous!”
“You will give your word,” he ground out. “Or I’ll never allow you to leave my sight again without six bodyguards at your side.”
“You won’t allow me?” she cried.
His jaw clenched. “It’s a dangerous world. I have enemies. Luigi has good cause to hate me and he could choose to take it out on you. Or our child.”
“How can you think of the world like that?”
“Because that’s how it is,” he said grimly.
Hallie stared at him in horror. He was refusing to even consider that he might be wrong about Luigi. Justifying his own selfish actions by trying to punish a sweet old man who hadn’t done anything wrong.
“It’s not true.” The lump in her throat became a razor blade as she whispered, “The world is full of second chances. It’s full of love if you only—”
Still cradling their sleeping baby, Cristiano turned away. “I’m done talking.” He looked at his platinum watch. “I’ll take Jack upstairs to Agata. Go get ready for the gala.”
“Why are you acting like this?” she whispered.
“It’s my responsibility to protect my family.”
“But not to tell us anything.” Anger filled her. “Agata told me that we’re leaving Italy tomorrow.”
He looked off-kilter. “She told you?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice when she started packing all our clothes?”
“Yes. We’re leaving for Tokyo.” He lifted a dark eyebrow. “So?”
Swallowing over the pain in her throat, she choked out, “You said this was our home.”
“And the next place will be, as well. And the place after that.”
Hallie stared at him. “You spent millions on this villa, just for us to live here a few weeks?”
“And if I did?” he said coolly. “I can buy you ten more houses anywhere around the world. I can always sell them again. What does it matter?”
Hallie looked at him, stricken. “You said we’d have a home. You said we’d be a family.”
“And we are. But we’re doing it my way.”
“And your way is to drag us around the world at your beck and call, and tell me who I can and cannot speak with?”
Holding their baby against his chest, Cristiano set his jaw. “Either you’re with me, or against me. Either you’re my partner—”
“Your prisoner!” she cried.
“Or you’re my enemy.” His eyes glittered. “Decide carefully, cara mia, who you want to be. Now get ready.” He gave her an icy smile. “You must sparkle like a star tonight.”
And he left her.
Numb with shock, Hallie went back into the salon. She collected the red Cinderella dress. But as she carried it upstairs, it felt heavy in her arms.
As she got ready that night, putting on exquisite lingerie and the gorgeous designer ball gown, she felt cold inside. She brushed her dark hair until it shone, then stopped, looking at herself in the mirror.
When she tried to defy him, to fight for their happiness, he saw her as an enemy instead of recognizing it for what it was—love.
How could it be otherwise, when he’d never known what it was to be really, truly loved by another?
Either you’re with me, or against me.
How could she get through his darkness, the pain of his childhood that still enveloped him like a shroud?
How could she show him that the world was more than danger and betrayal and cruelty and regret? Could she show him that she wasn’t his enemy, but that she was fighting for his happiness, as well as her own?
Cristiano had given them his name, his wealth, his status. But Hallie and their son would never be more than possessions to him. He would never give them a home. Unless...
She took a deep breath.
There was only one way to break through. One risk she had to take, to win or lose it all.
Putting on lipstick, Hallie met her own scared eyes in the mirror.
Tonight she would tell him she loved him.