Page 142

Something passed across Ivy’s features—he only caught a glimpse of it, sitting beside her, but then he became distracted by her answer.
‘He came to my rescue,’ she said simply.
‘Not literally.’
‘Yes, literally,’ Ivy said with a laugh that for some reason squeezed his stomach in a vice. ‘I was being harassed by a difficult customer. It had been a hard, long day. I’m sure you can imagine. And you know what men can be like. The customer was being belligerent, and Antonio came to my aid. He was my hero,’ she said, turning a glistening gaze on him.
If Ivy was a terrible liar, he’d eat his hat.
‘Why was there such a rush for the marriage?’ Ms Quell asked, scribbling notes down on the notepad in her lap.
‘We were worried about family intervention,’ Antonio supplied, also truthful.
‘And once married, did you visit Italy?’
‘Of course, I live here,’ Antonio replied brusquely.
‘I was askingMrsGallo.’
Ivy shook her head slowly. A slight wince in her eye made him wonder if something was wrong. A headache, perhaps? They had covered quite a lot of ground in one day, which couldn’t have been usual for her.
Ms Quell frowned. ‘How did you feel about that?’ she asked, turning on him in the blink of an eye.
‘Feel?’ he repeated.
‘Yes, Mr Gallo. How did youfeelwhen Ivy wasn’t able to follow you to Italy?’
‘Frustrated,’ he lied. ‘I would have liked her to join me, but it wasn’t possible. There were family matters to attend to.’
‘Family matters that excluded your wife?’ Ms Quell asked.
Antonio took a breath and suddenly felt Ivy’s hand on his where it lay between them on the sofa, a warning.
‘I didn’t want my new wife to see my family the way that they were behaving at that time,’ he forced through his teeth. Also, not an untruth.
‘You were protecting her from your family,’ Ms Quell clarified.
‘Sì. Yes.’
‘And since then?’
Antonio opened his mouth.
‘I’m not sure if you’re aware, Ms Quell,’ Ivy interrupted. ‘But that was a difficult time for my husband. He was estranged from his grandfather for a significant period of time following the news of our marriage. Emotionally and financially. Antonio has spent the intervening years working harder than anyone alive to make the company he founded with nothing but grit and determination a multinational success. And I am so very proud of him for that. Truly. Even if it came at the cost of our marriage. A marriage that I will never regret. But we are no longerina relationship and to pretend as such would be dishonourable, not only to Judge Carmondy but to each other,’ Ivy concluded, shocking the words right out of Antonio’s mind.
‘I appreciate your words, Mrs Gallo. Mr Gallo should too, as they are clearly a very kind interpretation of what appears to have passed between you. But let me be clear. While this is a highly unusual situation and while I may be far more familiar with custody battles, alimony disputes, and the wants and needs of small children,’ she said, peering directly at him with intent, ‘I assure you, I take my job very seriously.
‘I have been sent here to assess how you have tried torepairyour marriage. Not grade how well you know each other, or identify what caused the rift. Tell me—showme—what you’ve done to try and bridge it,’ she said, putting the monumental amount of paperwork back into her bag. ‘You have two more sessions to show me this.’
On that note, Ms Quell left, and Ivy, deflated, sank back on the sofa beside him.
In that moment, Antonio Gallo was forced to admit to himself that he had greatly underestimated the ease with which they would navigate these ‘assessments’. But there was no other option than to rise to the occasion if he was going to ensure that Maria got what she wanted.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ivy woke upin a panic, not knowing where she was. Her vision was worse than usual, and she knew that was because yesterday had been a lot. A lot more than she was used to at least. It came back to her in flashes and all jumbled in order. The judge, Antonio at the library, Ms Quell, Anita crying, a scribbled note to her flatmate. And two glasses of wine on an empty stomach.
She groaned as she turned on her side and, squinting at the clock, realised that it was seven-thirty in the morning. All she had eaten since the sandwich she’d hastily swallowed between the court and the library yesterday was a flapjack she’d found in her bag last night.