“Is that all?” he said dryly.
“Yes, that is all,” she snapped, fatigue finally taking over. “And since I already have a husband handy, I thought I should just use him to help my case.”
“As opposed to?”
“As opposed to getting rid of the current one and shopping for a new one. What else?” she retorted, rolling her eyes. Her head was beginning to pound from all the lack of sleep, her body in a state of near exhaustion. “This is not a joke.”
“Should I truly take you at your word this time, bella? Is that what I should have demanded—an extra clarification that it was not a joke when you made your vows to me?”
Alex refused to indulge the guilt that burrowed into the most private recesses of her heart. Or the hope that it had somehow hurt him when she’d left. God, the last thing she needed was to look for any supposed feelings for her. “You owe me this, V.”
He raised a brow, arrogance dripping from the gesture. “Owe you, Princess?”
“Yes. You married me without telling me the whole truth. You appear to have conveniently forgotten all the mistakes you’ve made and blame me for the disturbing farce that is our marriage. You misrepresented yourself to me and I want reparation. This has to be it.”
“I told you before. I’m saying it again. Our marriage is not a farce to me.”
“I’m not asking you for a happily-ever-after, V.” She cut him off, that tough mask in place again. “That’s kind of lost its shine for me.
“I’m asking, since we’re inconveniently tied together legally already, if you’ll help me secure the happiness of a small boy who’s just lost his parents and has been thrust into a battle between greedy adults who care only about the bottom line.
“If you were really once that boy who fought against overwhelming odds to survive, you will understand that a child’s well-being is at stake here.”
* * *
After the almost soap-opera-ish drama that had been his life recently, Vincenzo hadn’t thought he’d ever be shocked again. But the fire that burned in Alessandra’s eyes, the fighting stance of her body as she faced him, achieved that effect quite thoroughly.
This was the woman he’d lost his head over.
Vulnerable yet fierce.
Fragile and yet with a steely core.
In her, he’d seen a woman that would get behind him. A woman who’d have fought against all the injustices that had been done him. A woman who’d understand his lifelong fight, his ambition, his need to even out the scales. A woman—his wife—whom he’d thought would take his side against people who were not even her blood relations.
But he refused to be taken in by her again. Refused to let his heart rule over the little sense his head spouted. Refused to forget that, for all her determination now, she’d walked out on him, on their marriage, without even a word.
Worse, she wouldn’t have returned if she hadn’t been forced into it by a cruel twist of fate.
But for all his reservations, he couldn’t remain untouched by the very real grief in her eyes, the guilt whenever she mentioned her mother, the hopelessness when she recounted how Charlie was being fought over.
All feelings he was too familiar with.
“Do you comprehend what an enormous responsibility you’re taking on by seeking custody of Charlie?” he asked softly.
Her gaze jerked to meet his. “Yes.” Calm. Steady.
“This is not an impulsive decision, is it? Because apparently you’re the queen of impulsive behavior.”
She fidgeted with the strap of her bag, bringing his gaze to her breasts, before weakly refuting, “That’s not fair.”
“I’ve gained a broader picture of you in the weeks you’ve been hiding, cara. Apparently, you have a history of making major, life-changing decisions on a whim.”
A stiffness imbued her movements as she approached his desk and poured herself a glass of water. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Signing up to a modeling career—just because you knew your mother would disapprove.
“Walking out on a two-million-dollar contract with a cosmetics company because you discovered that their practices were not entirely ethical. Hiding from the fallout of that in Bali, which was when I found you. Then there’s your decision to quit modeling altogether—for reasons unknown.
“And finally, marrying me on the rebound…because you got dumped by your ex,” he said, giving voice to the thing that had bothered him the most.
Her almond-shaped eyes widened. “Javier again?”
“Oh no, this is all according to Massimo. He’s been quite voluble in your absence, volunteering information about you at regular intervals. Exacting his own version of revenge on me, I’d say.”
“Revenge?”
“He knew how…angry I was by your middle-of-the-night flight. So he dealt me a few punches and got some laughs out of it.” Massimo, Vincenzo had realized in the past few weeks, found him endlessly fascinating, as if he were a puzzle the tech genius was determined to solve.
It was damned hard to hate a man who kept dropping down into his office for little chats as if they were childhood friends. Or, God forbid, long-lost brothers. Not even on pain of death would Vincenzo admit, however, that he was just as curious about the cyber tech genius.
“So, is it true?”
“Is what true?” she asked.
Vincenzo had a feeling she was playing with him. And yet he couldn’t help gritting out the question that had been gouging a hole in him for nine excruciatingly long weeks. “Did you marry me on the rebound, Princess?”
The little minx fluttered her eyes at him, sweetly pretending to consider the question while his insides tightened into a knot. “You know, there might be some truth to that after all. How else can I explain the temporary madness that took hold of me in Bali? Javi and I…had such grand plans together and then it all fell apart so spectacularly. My relationship had failed. My career held no thrill any longer.
“I found myself hiding in Bali, devastated by everything that had shifted beneath my
