The Sicilian's Bought Cinderella

Pulling a face at her reflection, she set off to explore the rest of Dante’s home.

And what a home it was.

Aislin felt like the glamorous host of some kind of ‘amazing interiors’ television show. But without the glamour.

She imagined herself talking to a camera and sweeping her arms majestically, pointing out that, where concrete stairs led to the top floor outside, inside the stairs were all white marble. The top three floors had been transformed into two levels with enormously high ceilings, containing a kitchen any chef would purr with delight in, two dining rooms, six bedrooms of equal proportions to her own—none of which she did more than peek into, scared in case one of them belonged to Dante—three living rooms, more dedicated art rooms and even a water feature in the centre with a river of water snaking from it. The floor below...

A swimming pool the Romans would have considered decadent, complete with a gym and spa facilities...

Her phone buzzed.

She pulled it out of her back pocket and answered her sister’s call.

‘Ash, I’ve just received an email from the bank notifying me of a credit. I’ve checked, two hundred thousand euros has been put in. Two hundred thousand! From Dante Moncada! What’s going on? You said he was going to give me a hundred thousand when the DNA test’s done.’

‘It’s actually credited?’

‘Yes!’ Orla burst into tears. Her sobs were so loud Aislin moved the phone from her ear until they quietened.

‘Orla, breathe,’ she instructed kindly.

The sobs were replaced by deep breaths. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Well...’ Aislin screwed her eyes shut as she said in a rush, ‘Dante’s paying me to pretend to be his fiancée for a weekend.’

‘You what?’ Tearful, overwhelmed Orla was suddenly replaced by bossy big sister Orla.

‘It’s for a business deal he’s trying

to salvage. He needs to show a respectable face. Don’t worry,’ she hastened to add. ‘There’s nothing sinister or pervy about it.’

‘If there’s nothing pervy, why is he paying you all that money?’

‘Actually...’ She almost told her the grand total would be a million but stopped herself in time.

The full million was dependent on them fooling Riccardo D’Amore that they were a genuine couple. If Aislin didn’t play her part well enough, she would forfeit the remainder.

‘Actually what?’ Orla prompted.

‘Nothing. You have nothing to worry about. Dante finds me as attractive as a rhino. He needs a fake fiancée for one weekend to seal the business deal, he feels bad about your situation and wanted to do something to help.’ She’d explained the night before about Salvatore dying with hardly a cent to his name and that under Sicilian law, which Aislin had checked up on herself with the help of the Internet, she would have a massive fight to get anything at all. ‘By the way, you can’t tell anyone.’

Her sister snorted. ‘Who am I going to tell? Finn? The receptionist from the surgery?’

‘Very funny. How is Finn today?’

‘He’s having a good day but he misses you. When will you be home?’

Aislin’s heart clenched. She and Finn had a bond that was as strong as if she’d given birth to him herself. This was the first time they’d been parted since he’d been released into her care from the neonatal unit. ‘All being well, early next week.’

‘You will take care of yourself, won’t you? Dante’s reputation with women is awful.’

‘I’m not his type, so stop worrying.’

‘Has he said anything about wanting to meet me?’

‘Not yet.’ Not a single word. ‘I think he wants to get this business deal done with first. It’s very important to him.’

‘More important than me and Finn?’