The Sicilian's Bought Cinderella

‘In Dublin. She’s gone for a job interview.’ A tinge of anxiety came into Orla’s voice. ‘But you’ll see her next time... Will there be a next time?’

‘Yes.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry for letting you think any different. My head has not been in a good place. If the invitation is still open, I would very much like to come to Finn’s party.’

‘Of course the invitation’s still open!’ Her relief was instantaneous. ‘I’m sure Aislin will be pleased to see you then too.’

The way Orla averted her eyes for the latter sent a weight plunging into his stomach. The look, coupled with her tone, told Dante clearly that he was the last person Aislin wanted to see.

‘How is she?’ As painful as the knowledge that Aislin despised him was, he needed to know she was okay.

‘She’s doing grand. Full of plans for the future. We’re moving to Dublin—Aislin talked me into it. There’s more resources there for Finn, and Aislin will have a better chance of finding a job she can use her degree for. I can never thank you enough for enabling this for us. You’ve changed our lives.’

Shortly afterwards, Orla carried Finn downstairs and sat him in his wheelchair. Only then did Dante truly understand the nature of his condition.

‘Can he not walk?’

‘He can but not for any length of time. His muscles are too weak. When we move to Dublin we’ll have access to better treatment for him, so he has every chance of leading a near normal life.’ Her brightness seemed forced, as if they were words Orla continually repeated to herself in the hope that repetition would make them come true.

He couldn’t help himself from saying, ‘Aislin helps you with him?’

Her eyes softened. ‘If it wasn’t for Aislin, neither of us would be here. I’m so happy she’s finally getting her life back on track. She gave everything up for us and now it’s my turn to support her.’

Many hours later it was with mixed emotions that Dante embraced his sister and nephew goodbye.

The blood bond between them was stronger than he had imagined it could be, and he marvelled that it was a bond he’d been so set against forming.

But there was despair in him too and it cast a huge shadow over the joy.

Aislin hated him.

She was taking great strides and reclaiming her life for herself.

Whatever feelings she’d had for him had died. Dante had killed them.

The heavy dark raincloud that poured on him as he walked back to his car matched perfectly the dark heaviness in his heart.

The rose-gold engagement ring he’d brought with him burned a hole in his pocket.

* * *

Aislin opened the front door carefully and crept into the house.

‘What are you sneaking about for?’

She jumped in fright, then laughed when Orla poked her head around the living room door.

‘I wasn’t sneaking. I was trying to be quiet in case you were asleep.’

‘You think I can sleep when you’re out on the road in this weather?’

It had been in weather like this that Orla had had her accident.

Aislin’s late return to their home was because she had spent the day a three-and-a-half-hour drive away in Dublin at an interview with a publisher that specialised in historical tomes. She wasn’t sure if it was for her, as she had told Orla in her message before she’d made the drive home, but it had felt good to get out of the house and away from her studies for a few hours.

Every time she looked at her textbooks she thought of Dante and remembered how he’d been thumbing through one of them when she had gone down the stairs in his cottage.

He’d couriered her luggage to her the day after she’d returned to Ireland.