The last thing she’d had, after the initial hearing with the family court in the States and the subsequent meetings with her lawyers, was any energy left to charter a private jet to bring her over to Italy. And seeing that she’d already annoyed her agent; her two assistants, and Greta and Leo; Massimo—though at least he had sympathized with her actions and warned her she was just postponing the final reckoning—Javier; and the man sitting behind the oak door in front of her, she hadn’t felt she could reach out to any of them and ask for a favor.
God, it felt like she’d been traveling forever, jumping from one painful situation to another, never stopping and thinking, never standing still.
Because if she did, if she stood in one place for more than a moment and allowed herself to look inward she’d have to listen to her heart. Her pathetic, bruised, still-foolish heart.
She’d have to face the fact that her mother was gone and the last time Alex had seen her, she’d said hateful words to her, that all the memories she had now were stilted, sterile meetings of the last few years. She’d have to swallow the bitterness she’d nursed when she’d realized her mother loved her little half brother, Charlie, far more than she’d ever loved her.
She’d have to face the fact that she had let that same, soul-sucking desperate need to be wanted, to be loved push her into a disastrous marriage with a man she didn’t even truly know, that she’d given her heart to a man who didn’t even understand what that meant.
The image of Charlie’s small, scrunched-up face, determined to look strong in front of Alex as she’d said goodbye to him, rose in front of her eyes, and she pushed away all the fears that could shake her resolve to do the right thing for him. For all her estrangement with her mother, she had fallen in love with Charlie from the first moment she’d set eyes on him as a newborn baby seven years ago.
Whatever the nature of her complex relationship with her mother, whatever insecurities she’d felt for years, whatever bitterness she’d nursed after Charlie’s birth, she had to put all that away now. This was not the time for guilt or grief or regrets.
This was the time to take action. To make sure Charlie wasn’t lost in the shuffle of adults’ mistakes like she’d been as a child.
She had to stop running. She had to be strong for that innocent boy. She had to face the one man she never wanted see again in her life.
In the nine weeks that she’d been hiding, the world had exploded with all kinds of speculation about the mysterious billionaire Vincenzo Cavalli, who headed up Cavalli Enterprises, a finance shark that had its fingers in myriad industrial sectors.
That he was battling with Leonardo Brunetti for the position of CEO of BFI, although they didn’t know why.
That he was a mathematical genius who’d made his first billion on the stock market.
That he was ruthless when it came to his opposition.
All the things Alex had been blissfully unaware of when she’d said yes to his sudden proposal.
She still couldn’t assimilate the man she’d known in Bali—tender, funny and kind—with the man who’d been raining hell on the Brunettis with not a hint of conscience. And now she had to beg him to cooperate with her after hiding from him for nine weeks.
No, she wasn’t going to beg. She was going to demand that he do this for her. She couldn’t show weakness in front of a man who didn’t understand the meaning of family.
“Mrs. Cavalli?”
“Don’t call me that,” Alex snapped.
“I’m sorry. You look…quite unlike yourself,” came the tentative response from one of the receptionists hovering behind the huge swathe of gleaming white marble designed to intimidate anyone who dared assume they could approach the mighty Vincenzo Cavalli.
But not her.
She squared her shoulders. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“Shall I get one of the Mr. Brunettis for you? They’re both in the building,” a different woman asked, her perceptive eyes taking in Alex’s state.
“No, thanks.” Leo and Massimo, as powerful as they were, couldn’t help her now. Only the devil she’d tangled with would do. “I was told on the ground floor that Mr. Cavalli has taken over this floor. Is that right?”
“Yes, he has. He’s already made many changes—”
“Is he in there now?” Alex interrupted.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Thanks, Miriam,” she added, looking down at the shiny plaque sitting in front of the woman. “I’ll just… Don’t announce me.”
The woman nodded, sympathy shining in her eyes.
Alex looked away. The chance to get a quick, quiet divorce had come and gone. Now she needed this marriage to work. And, oh God, Vincenzo was going to love that, wasn’t he?
But only temporarily, she promised herself.
Whatever deal she made with Vincenzo, it only needed to last for as long as she needed him. After that, she would walk away forever. From his charming words, his penetrating eyes and him. Far away from him. From her own naive heart and its foolish hopes.
* * *
Vincenzo wondered if going so long without regular sleep was making him hallucinate. If his sanity was truly hanging by its last thread. Alessandra’s continued absence—with not even a leaked rumor in the last nine weeks about where she was—had stripped away any semblance of civility from his demeanor.
Even his own team—people who’d been with him for more than a decade—were giving him a wide berth for fear of having their heads bitten off. He hated admitting it, but the ease with which Alessandra had walked out on their far-too-brief marriage rankled like a festering sore.
And still, he wasn’t
