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‘She’s fine…but something has happened. I want you to know this was never my intention.’
‘Out with it, Emilio,’ Enzo said, growing angry.
‘Last night Gia came to see me. She was upset that you’d left her again–’
‘I have a company to run and people to look after. There was an emergency!’
‘It doesn’t matter, Enzo. She needed you and you left her.’
‘She had to choose cake, for heaven’s sake.’ Enzo straightened. ‘But that’s not what you want to tell me, is it?’
‘No, it’s not. She was upset and getting drunk, and asked me to drink with her so she could talk.’
A nerve started throbbing in Enzo’s temple. ‘What did you do?’
‘I got drunk,’ Emilio admitted and steeled his spine, forcing himself to say the next words even as they gouged him raw on the inside, like blades carving his betrayal into his soul. ‘And we slept together.’
He watched, horrified, as Enzo’s face slackened, losing all trace of anger, as if he was numb. Then he saw it—the flash of devastation in his brother’s eyes. The hurt that Enzo couldn’t conceal. Emilio wanted to vomit. His brother—big and proud and a source of so much heartache for Emilio—stumbled back until his foot caught the leather arm chair and he fell into it. Heavily.
The thud reverberated in Emilio’s head. He had never intended to let his attraction to Gia get this far. He’d never intended to hurt Enzo like this, even if his brother constantly hurt him by bragging about all he’d got to do with their father over dinner during all the years they’d grown up.
And yet a small part of him also wanted to ask his brother how it felt to be rejected—and Emilio knew right then the loathsome person he truly was. And he hated himself just as much as everyone else did.
Emilio turned away from the house and looked out over Perlano. There was no love lost between Enzo, the perfect son, and him, but that day haunted him still. From the moment he’d met Gia, they’d had a connection. At first, he’d foolishly thought it was friendship. She would tell him everything: what she’d done, things she’d looked forward to. Things about Enzo: how Enzo had feared he would never live up to their father. How Enzo had worried that he wouldn’t leave a lasting mark, like all thecontesbefore him had. Emilio and Gia had never had a secret, and with her he could be himself. Could be vulnerable. He hadn’t needed walls or to hide his pain.
But falling in love with Gia had never meant that Emilio intended to act on their attraction. Except he’d got drunk, lost control and done just that. He should have pushed Gia away that night, told her that they needed stop.
But his self-loathing hadn’t diluted the hate he’d felt when Enzo had paid Gia to leave, or when she’d taken the money. That had hurt most of all.
Emilio turned his face up to the sky. The last of the day’s rays did nothing to warm him. Not when he felt so empty inside. He’d foolishly thought they’d had something special.
‘He’s forcing me to leave.’
‘What do you mean? What did he do?’
‘He paid me.’
‘He paid you to leave?’ Emilio was incandescent with rage. They’d made a mistake, but paying Gia? An insult against her integrity like that was beyond the pale! ‘I’ll come with you. I’ll leave all of this behind. We can start over somewhere else, just the two of us.’
‘I wish that were possible, but I don’t want to jeopardise all that I have been given, Emilio.’
The words were a slap in the face, sobering. ‘Is the money worth more than me?’ She stood there in all her poised beauty, silent. ‘Answer me, Gia. Do you want fame and fortune more than us? Than me?’
She looked him in the eyes. Unwavering. Certain. ‘Yes. It was a fantasy, Emilio. I deserve more. It’s over.’
All alone outside, Emilio laughed humourlessly at his own idiocy. It truly had been a fantasy to think Gia would choose him. She must have seen the same thing within him that his father had—something rotten, unlovable. Of course she’d tossed him away to keep chasing the limelight. Not that much had come of that for her. Wasn’t it ironic how his brother had worried about leaving his mark and yet that was something Emilio had done so thoroughly in the worst way?
And now he was married. Emilio toyed with the new ring on his finger, reminding himself that he could never expect love from Jasmine. A woman who would never have married him if it hadn’t been for the baby. She hadn’t chosen him. She was just a good mother.
She wasn’t his.
This time he would do the right thing and keep his distance.
Even though it was harder than it had ever been with Gia.
***
Jasmine searched for Emilio all over the house until she ran into Isabella. ‘Have you seen Emilio?’