A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir
“We can order flowers sent from New York.”
“You can’t be serious. She’s your sister!”
“What did you think, Scarlett? That we’d live here forever?”
That was exactly what she’d thought. She’d been happy and she’d thought it would last forever. She whispered over the lump in her throat, “It’s our home.”
“Home?” Looking around the luxurious, comfortable bedroom, he gave an incredulous laugh. “This place isn’t my home. It was my home, when I was a miserable child at the mercy of adults. But now, thank God, it’s not.” He closed his suitcase firmly. “My company is based in New York.”
“I have no good memories there. None.”
“You must have friends in the city.”
“Blaise Falkner?”
“He’s no longer in New York.” His lips pressed together. “My head of security recently informed me that without money or a place to live, he’s fled like the rat he is.” He paused, and she got the feeling there was more he wasn’t telling her. He finished, “So you have nothing to worry about.”
“I know I don’t. Because I’m not living there.”
A knock on the bedroom door interrupted them. An unhappy-looking bodyguard appeared to collect Vin’s suitcase. Scarlett whirled angrily on her husband.
“You’re making Beppe work today? He was going to propose to his girlfriend!” She looked at the man miserably. “I’m sorry.”
“Va bene, signora,” he muttered.
Ignoring him, Vin glared at her. “I grow weary of your constant criticism.”
“Oh, I see. I should just tremble and obey?”
“You’re twisting my words.”
“What am I, if not your partner? Am I your housekeeper? Your nanny?” Her cheeks burned. “Or just your whore?”
She had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen. Then they narrowed. “You’re my wife. The mother of my child.”
“Then how can you be so unfeeling? You said you loved me!”
Vin glanced grimly toward Beppe, now walking out with his suitcase, pretending to be deaf and blind to the whole conversation. “I am simply educating you in how it’s going to be. You and the baby will fly to New York within the week. You’ll be ready and willing to take the paternity test!”
Vin stalked out of the bedroom in his turn, slamming the door behind him.
Woken by the noise, their baby started crying in the nursery next door. Scarlett flashed hot, then cold. In a fury, she ran to the top of the staircase.
“We’re not going anywhere!” she screamed down at him. “You can’t force us!”
Vin’s face was startled at the bottom of the stairs. But he didn’t answer. He didn’t even pause. Just kept walking, straight out the door.
Hearing the roar of the engine as his car drove away, Scarlett slumped on the top stair, tears running down her cheeks.
How had it all gone so wrong, so fast?
Just that morning, she’d been so happy. So sure he loved her.
But he couldn’t. Otherwise, how could he act like this?
He didn’t love her. All her dreams came crashing down around her. Covering her face with her hands, Scarlett choked out a sob.
Then, hearing her baby’s wails, she took a deep breath. Wiping her eyes, she rose from the top stair, hoping, as she went to comfort her crying child, that she could somehow comfort herself.
* * *
From the penthouse bar of his ultramodern, luxurious Tokyo hotel, Vin stared out unseeingly through floor-to-ceiling windows displaying a panorama of the city, from Hamarikyu Gardens to the illuminated Rainbow Bridge stretching across Tokyo Bay. The night sky was dazzling from the bar on the thirtieth floor.
Beautiful.
Bright.
Cold.
Vin took another gulp of his scotch on the rocks, then set it back on the gleaming bar. He leaned his forehead against his palm, feeling inexpressibly weary.
It had been two weeks since he’d last spoken to Scarlett. Two weeks since their argument. For two weeks, he hadn’t seen his baby, who in his short life might already be forgetting he had a father. Vin’s heart felt twisted, raw, hollow.
He tried to tell himself it was worth it. Because Mediterranean Airlines was his.