The Secret Kept from the Italian

He dropped her hand as soon as she’d straightened, and Maisie fished for her keys in her purse while the limo idled and Antonio waited impatiently.

She opened the door and stepped aside for him to go through; the lobby of the building was dark and cramped and smelled of old fried food.

‘There’s no lift?’ he demanded as she started up the stairs.

‘No,’ Maisie answered tiredly, ‘and we live on the sixth floor, so I hope you’re in good shape.’

‘We?’

‘My brother Max and me.’

They climbed the five flights of narrow stairs in silence, Antonio’s unease deepening with every floor.

‘How did you manage those stairs when you were pregnant?’ he demanded as they reached the top floor.

‘I didn’t move here until after Ella was born, but in any case I was bedridden for the last two months of my pregnancy.’

‘Bedridden?’ Shocked alarm rippled through him. ‘Why?’

‘I had pre-eclampsia. Ella was born three weeks early by emergency Caesarean section as a result.’

And he’d had no idea about any of it. ‘You should have got in touch with me. I could have helped.’

‘You didn’t want to know,’ Maisie reminded him, but she sounded tired rather than angry about it. Guilt bit deep. He knew Maisie was right. It was his own fault for blanking Maisie when he should have listened to her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice low.

She turned to him in surprise. ‘Wow, an apology. Something I didn’t realise you were capable of.’

Antonio stiffened. ‘I am certainly capable of apologising when needed—’

‘Do you apologise to all the people whose jobs you cut?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Is that what you think—?’

‘One newspaper nicknamed you “The Destroyer”.’

‘Like I said, I wouldn’t pay attention to tabloids.’

Maisie folded her arms across her chest. ‘Do you deny it?’

‘Now is not the time to talk about my business.’ He refused to explain himself or his actions. He certainly wasn’t going to justify them. ‘Why don’t you open the door?’

‘All right, but please be quiet. Ella is a very light sleeper.’

‘Fine.’

Maisie unlocked the door and stepped into the small living room. It was a shabby but homey room, with a couple of armchairs and a sofa. Baby toys were scattered across a throw rug on the floor. Her brother was sprawled asleep on the sofa and he started awake as they came in.

‘Maisie...’ His mouth dropped open as he took in Antonio standing behind his sister. ‘Who is this?’

‘It’s fine, Max.’ Maisie took a deep breath and dropped her bag and keys on a table by the door. ‘This is Antonio, Ella’s father.’

‘Ella’s—’

‘He’s leaving now.’

‘I want to see her first.’ His voice throbbed with urgency.