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‘Nonsense.’ She batted away his concern.
Despite everything, he couldn’t help laughing. ‘Always so stubborn.’
‘Just like my boys.’
‘Ah, it must be a good thing, then,’ Emilio said, living for the small smile on his mother’s face.
‘My son, the charmer.’ Valentina gave a wheezy laugh that had her wincing.
‘Mamma!’ Emilio scolded.
‘You are hovering. Go to work. I am tired after all.’
‘Okay.’ He smiled and stood, placing a small kiss on her forehead. ‘I will see you later. Isabella is close, and I can call your nurse in if you wish.’
‘Emilio!’ Valentina scolded, sounding so much like her old self that Emilio raised his hands in surrender. ‘Before you go, there is something I want to tell you.’
‘It can wait until you wake, Mamma. Get some rest.’
‘I love you,mio figlio.’
‘I love you too, Mamma.’
Just as he’d thought, she was far more exhausted than she wanted him to believe. It didn’t take long for her eyes to flutter closed. Even once she was clearly and peacefully asleep, Emilio couldn’t bring himself to leave. He stood where he was and watched his mother sleep, the beeps of her monitor constant and predictable. The sweetest beat. A rhythm that assured him his mother was still with him. Once she had rested, he could return, and she would lovingly scold him for fussing. And then he would listen to whatever she wanted to tell him.
With one more look, paying attention to the expression on her face, the rise and fall of her chest, Emilio turned to leave the room.
It was just as his foot crossed the threshold that the constant, comforting beep turned into a long, continuous, monotonous wail—a sound that would haunt him for ever. The sound that meant his mother had gone.
CHAPTER ONE
Two months later
The numbing glideof alcohol was exactly what Emilio needed. He crossed his leg, ankle over knee, as he sat on a plush, scalloped couch in blue and gold. The striking vibrance of its colours dipped into near invisibility and back again as the lights overhead danced to the beat of blaring music.
The club, Boulevard, was situated on the top floor of one of New York’s most expensive hotels, and washighlyexclusive. The guest list was notoriously hard to get on, with a months-long wait even for the few who made the cut.
Emilio’s name was always on it.
He took a sip from his rust-coloured drink, then placed his glass on the brushed gold table and dropped his head back against the back rest. The fragrant negroni ran a smooth hand over the knot of feelings within him he was trying to ignore. That tightness in his chest that hadn’t eased in two months.
A woman had sat down next to him, uninvited, and was trying to chat. He focussed instead on the hypnotising patterns drawn by the lights and the beat pulsing through his body, letting it submerge him and drown her out. With a deep breath, he tried to let go of the stress of his day at De Luca and Co—and everything else.
The woman next to Emilio shifted. He felt it, but didn’t look. She might have been beautiful: he wouldn’t have known. He could hear none of her words and he didn’t care to. He didn’t care for anything about her. He had no intention of attracting company tonight.
He went to Boulevard so that he could drink in peace, enjoy the crush of bodies. It was a place where, unlike in his daily life, no one expected anything of him except a good time—and that was only ifhefelt like it. Often, he did. For just a night, he could indulge in his need for pleasure. There were no emotions involved. It was pure carnal release.
Emilio had no interest in the risk emotions posed. Not since Gia—his brother’s fiancée. He’d let his emotions get the better of him then, and that situation had been a disaster for everyone. Sure, his feelings for her had been genuine, but in hindsight their decision to act on them had been impulsive. Emilio had been young and hadn’t thought about what being with Gia would mean long-term. He could see now that even the best-case scenario would have led to family strife; his being ostracised.
Of course, that had happened anyway.
‘It was a fantasy, Emilio. I deserve more. It’s over.’
He hadn’t been enough for Gia to choose to be with him when Enzo had left her. Emilio would never forget the words:deserve more. More than him, because he hadn’t been enough. He would have had to give her fame and fortune. Keep her in the spotlight, as Enzo had. Maybe more than that.
Now, when Emilio thought of the future, he couldn’t see himself growing old with anyone. He didn’t see any possibility of having a family or a healing, nurturing love. That wasn’t for him. All the evidence proved as much: Gia leaving; his father’s constant rejection. There must be something about him that was inherently unlovable.
Perhaps that wasn’t fair. There was one person who loved him beyond all else—hadloved him. His heart constricted painfully at the thought of his mother. She was dead. She had trusted him so much that she had left all that was hers to him—well, apart from the vineyards. Those had always been meant to go to his brother. Now there was no one left with a shred of affection for him.