A Scandal Made At Midnight

It had taken Alessandro about fifteen minutes to realise he was a complete idiot. He’d gazed at those photos, every single one, first in shock, then in shame, then in wonder. He hated, absolutely hated, feeling so exposed, his most private and personal emotions on display for everyone to see, and he hated even more the thought that Liane might have done it on purpose, aiding and abetting Ella in whatever publicity scheme they’d worked up.

He’d sat slumped in his chair for at least an hour, looking at those photos in turn as understanding had slowly crept up on him, like the dawn of a new morning. Of course Liane hadn’t taken them on purpose. He doubted she’d even known they were being taken. He’d accused her out of anger and fear, not wanting to acknowledge the truth that was blazing out of each and every photo. The truth that he loved her.

He hadn’t been able to deny it, even though his first instinct, as ever, had been to do just that. To accuse rather than admit. To lash out rather than love. When Sophia had come in tearfully a little while later, telling him Liane had already left and it was all her fault, Alessandro had been able to piece the story together. Ella had contacted Sophia, asked her to take some photos for her to use on her social media. Sophia had been thrilled, especially as she was so sure Alessandro and Liane were in love.

‘But she’s left and it’s all my fault. I didn’t realise how it would affect her...’

‘It’s not your fault, Sophia, cara,’ Alessandro had told her grimly. ‘It’s mine.’

He was the prize idiot who could look love right in the face and pretend he wasn’t seeing it. Love wasn’t blind; he was. By the time he’d realised the truth Liane had already left. Alessandro had packed his bag within minutes and he’d been in a car to the private jet still idling in Perugia so fast his head spun.

‘What are you doing here?’ Liane asked now as he stood in the doorway of her house, shaking her head at him in weary wonder. ‘And how did you get here before me?’

‘Private jet, remember,’ he replied with a little smile. His heart ached to see how tired and worn down she looked, how sad, sorrow shadowing her eyes and causing the corners of her mouth to droop. That was his fault. ‘I arrived several hours ago.’

‘I’m sorry about the photos,’ Liane blurted. ‘Ella must have arranged it all. She hinted to me that she was doing something, but I had no idea what. I could have guessed, I suppose, although I never thought she’d get Sophia involved...at least, I assume it was Sophia.’

‘I don’t care about the photos,’ Alessandro assured her. Only to amend, ‘Actually, I do care about the photos. Because they showed me something I should have been able to realise on my own—and I did realise it, but I fought against it because I was scared. Terrified, in fact.’

Hope started to spark in Liane’s eyes and her lips trembled. ‘Terrified...?’ she whispered.

‘Of love,’ he stated starkly. His heart beat with painful thuds; as sure as he was, this still felt hard. Being vulnerable got easier, but perhaps it was never easy. Saying how you felt, admitting the truth. Being willing to be rejected. ‘Of loving you. It wasn’t until I saw those photos that I realised the truth of it. I couldn’t deny it any longer, even though I tried, terribly. I’m so sorry for accusing you, Liane. For hurting you. I did it out of my own fear and hurt, but that is no excuse.’ He reached for her hand, threading her fingers through his. ‘Forgive me?’

Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked them back rapidly. ‘Oh, Alessandro...’

‘I love you, Liane.’ Instead of making him feel weak, as he’d always thought, saying it aloud made him feel strong. Powerful. ‘You’ve made me believe in the fairy tale. You are the fairy tale. Or at least we can be it, together. We can try...not for some absurd photo op. Not for online consumption. But for us.’

His fingers tightened on hers as she gazed at him in both wonder and hope. ‘I can’t believe...’

‘I couldn’t either. I didn’t want to. Love, to me, was about using and being used. Being hurt, being disappointed, being out of control. I let my parents’ terrible marriage influence me—not just how they treated each other, but how they treated me, stuck in the middle, being used for their ends. I promised myself I’d never let myself need or be needed like that because it only ended in tears and regret. And yet, since meeting you, I’ve realised that that is a terrible way to live. Empty.’

A shaky laugh escaped her as she clasped their joined hands with her other. ‘Well, it’s certainly a lonely way. But I... I don’t need the fairy tale, Alessandro. I just want real life...with you. I spent too long waiting to be swept away, telling myself it would happen without me needing to try. Waiting for my Prince to come charging down on his steed—’

‘And meanwhile he stepped on your toes.’

She laughed, a pure, joyous sound. ‘And charmed me while doing it.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘I still can’t believe you’re actually here. That you’re saying these things.’

‘I am here, my bella Liane,’ he told her as he gathered her in his arms. ‘Telling you I love you, now and for ever...if you’ll have me.’

‘I will,’ she answered with heartfelt fervour and finally, thankfully, he kissed her.