Bought by the Rich Man: Taken by the Highest Bidder / Bought by Her Latin Lover / Bought by the Billionaire

“I’d prefer to call it investigating,” he said, speaking slowly, carefully. “I was intent on gathering facts. Evidence. Making sure Gabriela was safe until I could get her in my care.”

“So you’ve tried going to court?”

“We’ve been in court for years—but it takes so long. I expect a legal decree soon—”

She felt dangerously close to hysteria. “So why the poker games?”

“Revenge.” Cristiano’s upper lip curled. “I wanted to make him suffer. He made me suffer. It seemed only fair.”

“Suffering is never fair.”

“You’re such a good girl, Samantha.”

She wouldn’t be baited, not this time. “So I wasn’t important. You never wanted me—”

“Not true.” He cut her off. “I wanted you from the beginning. I gambled on the fact that once I had you, Gabriela would follow.”

“That’s illogical.”

“Sam, you married Johann for Gabriela. If you came to me, you’d bring Gabriela. And I was right.” He smiled at her but his smile was predatory. “You’ve protected her from the beginning. I don’t hold that against you. In fact, I appreciate the fact that you love her for her—not for her bank account.”

“She has a bank account?”

“A huge trust fund. She’s a Bartolo.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Cristiano’s lashes lowered and he studied her as though she were a curiosity, something he’d uncovered in a dusty secondhand shop. “It means she’s rich. It means she will always wonder when she grows up if men love her for her, or if they love her money.”

“That’s horrible.”

“That’s reality.”

She pursed her lips, trying to digest this and everything else she’d learned. “And that’s what you want for her? Some harsh reality where her life is ruled by money, not love?”

“Sam, life is what it is. I’m not going to sugarcoat it for Gabriela, you, or anyone. But I’ve been observing Gabriela. She’s a bright girl. She’s confident and assertive. There’s no reason she can’t be rich, and be loved.”

Somehow Sam felt the inequities very much. She—who’d tried so hard for so many years—had neither love nor money. “Do you have both? Are you rich?”

“Yes.”

“Loved?”

He laughed, cool and mocking. “No. But that’s my choice.”

Sam had never met anyone like Cristiano Bartolo, didn’t understand anyone like him, either. “Why wouldn’t you want love?”

“Love’s complicated. It involves layers of emotion including guilt and fear. I’m happier without it.”

“Without love.”

“As I said, I’m happy as I am.”

She shook her head, perplexed. “So why do you want Gabby?”

He hesitated for the briefest second. “Because she’s a Bartolo. She should be raised by a Bartolo.”

He was making her sick. She couldn’t stand his way of thinking. It was harsh, horrible, selfish. “This isn’t why you take a child—”

“It is for me,” he cut in sharply before lifting the menu. “Do you know what you’re going to eat?”

Sam couldn’t imagine eating a bite after that but when the waitress appeared at their table, she ordered toast and tea, thinking she had to put something in her stomach if she was going to survive the day.

They sat in virtual silence while they waited for their breakfast to arrive until Sam couldn’t stand the miserable tension a moment longer. “So what are you going to do? How exactly does this work?”

“In the morning we’ll fly back to Monte Carlo. On Monday Gabby will begin at her new school.”

“A new school?”

“Yes.”

Sam stared at him aghast. So upset she ignored the waitress when she brought Sam her pot of tea. “You’re out of your mind.” And he was. He had to be to think he could just rip Gabriela from everything she’d known and loved. “Maybe adults understand moves and shifts, maybe adults can be relocated overnight, but not children—”

“I’m not asking you, Samantha. I’m telling you this. The decision is made. It’s no longer your concern.”

She shuddered, knowing he was wrong, knowing Gabriela would always be her concern. She might not be her nanny anymore, might not even be her stepmother, but Gabby was part of her heart, her life. “What is the rush?”

“I’ve lost enough time trying to get her home. I refuse to lose anymore.”

The hopelessness of the situation wrapped hard fingers around Sam’s throat. “And what about Gabby? What about all she loses?”

Cristiano’s eyes narrowed. “She’ll thank me one day.”

“Maybe. And maybe not.”

He shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Sam felt as if he were splitting her heart and head wide-open. How could he do this? How could he even talk this way? How was it possible to be so callous…much less about your own child? “Why can’t you give her time,” Sam pleaded. “At least let her finish the school year where she is. Don’t change everything on her overnight. She’s so young. She’s been through so much. Give her time to understand what’s happening…time to adjust.”

He leaned back as their breakfast plates were carried to the table. “She’ll have time,” he said. “She’ll have the next fifteen years to adjust.”

She swayed on her seat. “What kind of man are you?”

His steady gaze held hers, and the way he studied her made her skin prickle, her body tingling with alarm. “The kind who gets what he wants.”

“And what about what other people want?”

“Not my concern.”