Page 186 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8

‘He had an affair with your mother?’

‘A very brief affair.’

‘I see.’

Charlotte shook her head. ‘My mother loved him. She thought it was mutual, but he lied to her.’

He nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at him. Her shoulders were hunched, and she seemed so small and fragile. Somehow, he felt the stirring to life of an ancient, protective instinct.

‘Anyway—’ as she glanced up at him, her green eyes had renewed focus and determination, ‘—he has this company and I can take control of it, but only if I’m married. So, I want to get married.’

Dante frowned, not following. ‘But why?’

‘Because it’s my birth right,’ she said carefully. ‘He denied me my place in his life. He ignored me. He ignored my mother. He made us conceal my connection to him. But now, there’s a way I can do something to fix that. No, not to fix it,’ she amended. ‘But to become impossible to ignore.’

Dante still wasn’t following. What kind of company would Charlotte be interested in? Would she really care about taking up the mantle of a business just to have a place in her father’s life?

‘It’s a valuable company,’ she said, reaching for her champagne and taking a sip. ‘I haven’t had long to work it all out, but I’d plan to break it up, selling off parts of it and using the money for the charities I support. It could be life changing to so many people.’

Now, it was beginning to make sense.

‘And it all starts with getting married.’

Dante’s gut dropped to the floor. The protective instinct was still there, but she was asking the impossible of him. ‘I’m never getting married again, Charlotte.’

There. He’d said it. It should have given him some relief, but all Dante felt was hollowed out, just like he had in the immediate aftermath of his divorce. For the first time in his life, Dante had had to face defeat and he hated it.

‘This wouldn’t be a real marriage, though,’ she insisted, imploring him to listen with those wide eyes and generously curved red lips. ‘I mean, it would bethe bestparts of a marriage. Sex and privacy.’

Despite the pervasive ache in his belly, a smile tugged at his lips, even as he was shaking his head. ‘It’s not going to happen, Shaw.’

She closed her eyes and expelled a breath. ‘What about yourNonna?’

He recognised her question for what it was: expert negotiating. Brutal and effective.

‘You told me about her,’ Charlotte reminded him and inwardly, Dante cursed. Because hehadtold her about Allegra San Marino. But it had been a brief conversation, months earlier. A rare lapse when it was Dante who’d briefly broken their rules. He was surprised she’d even remembered.

‘You told me she’s desperate for you to get married. That she’s getting old and frail. That you wish you could give that to her.’

His eyes narrowed as the conversation replayed through his mind. ‘And you told me I was barking up the wrong tree if I expected you to marry me. You told me you never planned to marry either.’

Charlotte nodded. ‘Things change.’

‘Not this. Not for me.’

‘Dante, I don’t know what happened between you and your wife—,’

Visions of his ex, Jamie, flooded his brain. Jamie when he’d first met her, so beautiful and innocent, Jamie on their wedding day, Jamie pregnant, Jamie losing the baby, Jamie pregnant again, another loss, another pregnancy, another loss. The endless round of doctors’ appointments, of tests or hormone injections, of bed rest, of grief and a sense of failure and, finally, his refusal to try ever again because he couldn’t—wouldn’t—go through it or put her through it.

‘What happened isn’t relevant,’ he said, curtly. Harshly. He couldn’t help it. His failed marriage struck a nerve. It always would.

‘Okay, that’s fine. I can respect that. But I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’ve got some baggage around it. I get it. Which is why I’m making it abundantly clear to you that I don’t want either of us to think of this as a marriage. It would just be...a mutually beneficial arrangement.’

‘No.’

She pouted, lost in thought. He felt a groan building in the pit of his gut. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Charlotte. He wanted to take her home, to his bed, and kiss her senseless then make love to her all night long. That’s what they were. That’s what made sense.

But if she kept insisting on this damned marriage, he knew it would be the end.