The Secret Kept from the Italian

Maisie’s expression turned serious as she gazed down at Ella. ‘But what we really need to talk about is the future, Antonio.’ She drew a quick breath. ‘I know it’s a shock to discover you have a daughter, and I applaud your instinct to take responsibility—’

‘Applaud?’ Antonio repeated. He didn’t like the sound of that. He saw how Maisie’s mouth had compressed, her eyes narrowing, her body stiff. She looked as if she was squaring up for a fight.

‘You want to do the right thing—’

‘You make me sound so noble,’ Antonio drawled. ‘Really, I’m overwhelmed.’

‘What I’m trying to say is, I get it.’

‘I really don’t think you do.’

She sighed impatiently, brushing a strand of red-gold hair away from her face. ‘Look, there’s no way Ella could ever fit into your life, not properly. And it’s not fair of you to demand joint custody just because you feel it’s the right thing to do, or maybe because you’re mad at me for keeping her from you—’

‘You think I would ask for joint custody simply out of some kind of revenge?’ Her opinion of him continued to fall, it seemed, and yet he could hardly blame her.

‘Maybe not quite revenge, but...’ Maisie hesitated, then lifted her chin, her emerald eyes flashing. ‘Antonio, you’re known as a ruthless businessman. You’re nicknamed “The Destroyer”! You take apart buildings and companies and dismantle people’s lives without a flicker of regret or compassion.’

‘You’ve seen me at work, then?’ Antonio said. He felt cold with a sudden rage but also, he realised with a twinge of shame, with hurt. He didn’t like that she had such a low of opinion of him, but he would not stand here and defend himself against such baseless accusations.

And were they really baseless?

Maisie thought she knew him from his business, but she didn’t at all. And yet... And yet she knew him all too well. It was an impossible situation, and a tiny, treacherous part of him was tempted to walk away. Easier all around, and Ella would be well cared for.

But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t just abandon his daughter. Maybe it would be the best thing, he acknowledged grimly, because heaven knew he didn’t have the best example of a father to follow, but he still wanted to try, whatever that looked like. Felt like.

Except right now it seemed as if Maisie didn’t want him to.

‘Of course I haven’t seen you at work,’ Maisie said, two spots of colour appearing high on her cheeks, ‘but I’ve heard—’

‘Judged without a trial,’ Antonio remarked sardonically. ‘You read an article or two, I suppose, most of them written by journalists who will create dirt when they can’t dig it up?’

‘Are you saying you didn’t knock down an apartment building in Rome that houses a thousand low-income residents?’

His mouth compressed as he stared at her. ‘You’ve done your homework, I see.’

‘You don’t deny it?’

‘That I knocked the building down? No.’ It had been a fire hazard and a death trap. But he wasn’t going to trip over himself explaining.

She nodded slowly, as if he’d confirmed her worst suspicions. ‘In any case, Antonio, you can’t deny your lifestyle—working all hours, a different woman every week, most of them looking as if they’ve only got a handful of brain cells.’

‘You’re sounding quite judgemental—’

‘The point is,’ she cut across him determinedly, ‘your life isn’t suitable for raising a child.’

He took a slow, even breath, mainly to keep hold of his temper. She had a point. Of course she did. And it was absolutely idiotic of him to feel hurt by it all. He hadn’t had a serious romantic relationship in his entire life. ‘What if I’m willing to change?’

She looked incredulous. ‘Are you?’

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’ Antonio retorted, nettled despite his best efforts not to be. ‘You obviously were. Do I have to be so different?’

‘Antonio, we are different.’ She looked a bit exasperated and also far too sad. Antonio looked away so she couldn’t see the guilt on his face. They were different; as far as he could tell, she’d saved her brother, while he’d ruined his. And he had no idea if he was able to change, never mind whether he wanted to or not.

When he considered all that, he didn’t deserve to be in her life, or demand to be in his daughter’s life. And yet to walk away felt intolerable. Impossible. Here was a chance, if not for redemption, then at least for atonement.

‘We’re not that different,’ he said stubbornly, even though he knew it was a lie. They were completely different. Even during their one night together, he’d seen Maisie Dobson for what she was—an open, generous, loving person. Someone who would put another’s life before her own. So, so different from him.

Maisie stared at him for a moment, the freckles standing out on her nose as her face paled. ‘So what do you want, then?’ she asked slowly, and he knew the question cost her.