Brunetti's Secret Son

A searing wave of shock washed over his face before his eyes, mouth and jaw hardened in a look of pure bitterness.

‘So you regret this marriage?’ he demanded in a low, icy voice.

‘Tell me the truth, Romeo. Was marrying me really necessary?’

His jaw clenched for a long time before he bit out, ‘Yes.’

‘To save Lucca from Lorenzo or to give him your name?’

Her heart threatened to beat itself out of existence, and her limbs felt frozen and useless as she stared at him.

‘At the time, the two weren’t mutually exclusive.’

‘So you didn’t exaggerate one to get the other?’

He jerked upright and strode to the edge of the terrace, his movements erratic. For several minutes he said nothing, and slowly his balled fists loosened.

Then he turned. ‘You’re right. I should’ve thought this through a little longer, given myself better options.’

Maisie’s agonised gasp was barely audible, but it seemed to open a new set of floodgates, bringing fresh waves of pain. She knew she was a fool then for expecting him to tell her their marriage wasn’t a mistake. That it was more than just a means to ensure Lucca’s safety. That however it’d started out, it was worth holding on to, worth salvaging.

Hearing his words brought home to her just how foolish she’d been to hope. Just like five years ago, Romeo had made a mistake with her. One he regretted. Only this time, he’d told her so to her face rather than let his absence speak for him.

Footsteps preceded Zaccheo’s reappearance on the terrace and brought a jagged but final end to the conversation. Catching the other man’s narrow-eyed, assessing glance, she pinned a smile on her face. ‘I’m going to check on the boys.’

She stumbled blindly indoors, operating on automatic rather than with any sense of purpose, as she headed for the toy room. Reaching the doorway, she saw that Emily and the Giordano nanny had readied the boys for bed.

Forcing her feet to move, she went to her son and brushed her fingers over his hair. He looked up for a moment, his deep hazel eyes connecting with hers in a wide, loving look before he was distracted by one of his new best friends.

Feeling lost, cast adrift in a merciless ocean, Maisie wandered back out, trying hard not to buckle under the realisation that she’d sped up her exit from Romeo’s life with that last tirade. Because surely telling the man who’d married you for the sake of his son that you’d rather not be married to him was a request to be freed the moment the necessity became obsolete?

Pain ripped through her heart as she entered her bedroom. How could it look so bleak and lonely after just a few short nights spent away from it? How could her heart shred so badly at the thought that she wouldn’t spend another night in Romeo’s bed?

A broken moan, much like a manifestation of grief, poured out of her throat as she sank onto the side of her bed.

Her shame at the knowledge that she would shed her dignity for another night in Romeo’s bed bit deep as she lay back and sobbed into her pillow. She would go back on her word, on the promise she’d made after distancing herself from her parents’ continued disapproval never to contort herself into another’s expectations of her. She would put herself in a box labelled desperate and willing to beg for Romeo’s love if she had the faintest glimpse that he returned a sliver of what she felt for him.

The sickening feeling of how far she would go triggered harder sobs, until her head throbbed and her body was wrung out. Still the pain came, washing over her in waves as the sun slid low and she knew she had to get up and dress for dinner.

Over and over as she showered, she saw his face, felt his silence like a final, doomed slash across her heart and wondered how she would face him across the dinner table. For a moment she wished for the man who had brushed her feelings aside and taken control. But she shook her head.

They’d gone past that this afternoon. There was no hiding from the glaring knowledge that Romeo didn’t love her and never would. That his only interest was for his son.

Her only choice was to muddle through the next few days, and leave the island when Romeo did. If he was intent on having his son guarded by a security detail, he could do so in Ranelagh. She wouldn’t be able to bear staying here, cocooned in a fool’s paradise. She would confront reality head-on, put one foot in front of the other until she learned to live with the pain.

Shutting off the shower, she dressed in an ensemble appropriate for entertainment, applied enough make-up to disguise the puffiness under her eyes and left her room.