Claiming His Scandalous Love-Child

‘What you want,’ Vito ground out, ‘is for Cesare to see you marry me—that’s all!’

‘Yes! And then he can go to hell—for ever!’ There was all the venom and all the fury of a woman scorned in her voice.

‘And after the wedding?’ Vito came back with angry sarcasm, determined to make her see reason. ‘When Cesare realises what he’s lost—then what? You’re stuck married to me!’

But her eyes only glittered manically. ‘I shall throw parties! Huge parties! And everyone will see how totally, blissfully happy I am!’

He gave a heavy, defeated sigh. For ‘everyone’ read ‘Cesare’ again.

He played his last card. Looked her straight in the eye. Expression totally serious. Spelled it out to her.

‘Carla, it’s impossible for me to marry you. I’m...involved with someone else—someone I met in England.’

There—he had said it. Stated it openly.

The words hung in his head, portentous. But all he got from his step-cousin was a harsh, derisive laugh.

‘What? Another of your endless parade of blondes?’ she countered. ‘Don’t trot that line out, Vito! I know you! Women come and go in your life like butterflies—they never mean anything to you!’ Her expression altered suddenly, twisting with pain. ‘Just as I never meant anything to Cesare—’

She broke off abruptly, her expression venomous again, but this time with a haunted, manic look in her eyes.

‘So—like I said—if you don’t want my mother to sell Guido’s shares to Falcone you’ll announce our engagement! Right away, Vito, right away!’

Her voice was rising, and he could hear the note of hysteria plain in it. If he went on any more she’d just threw a full-blown fit of hysterics.

For one long, angrily fulminating moment he went on glaring at her, her words knifing in his head. Then, without another word, he strode from her flat, fury burning in him.

His own words echoed in his head—I’m involved with someone else...

Eloise! Her beautiful, trusting face lifted to his.

I can’t do this to her.

Resolution speared in him. Whatever it took, there had to be a way—there had to be—of stalling Marlene, of extricating himself from her daughter’s desperate, drowning clutch that was trying to drag him down with her.

As he climbed into his waiting car his mobile rang and he glanced at it angrily. It was his mother, and he knew he had to answer it—knew, too, that he could not let her know what Marlene was doing now, touting Guido’s shares to his rival to force his hand.

But at his mother’s first panicked words, Vito knew it was too late for prevarication.

‘Vito! That woman has just phoned me! She’s threatened to sell Guido’s shares to Falcone if you don’t announce your engagement to Carla—so you’ve got to! You’ve just got to!’

‘Mamma,’ he said in a hollow voice, ‘you cannot mean that...’

There was a stifled cry down the line. ‘Vito, you made a vow to your father! He begged you with his dying breath! Don’t betray him, Vito—don’t betray your own father. You promised to get Guido’s shares back, and you can’t break that promise—you can’t!’

He swallowed. ‘Mamma, I cannot do what Marlene demands—’

‘You must! Vito, you must!’ There was desperation in her voice.

He closed his eyes. He could hear how distraught she was. He had to calm her down somehow, anyhow. ‘Mamma—listen. Listen. I will put out an announcement. OK?’

It wasn’t OK—it was total opposite of OK—but it would buy him something that, right now, was the most vital thing for him to get. Time—time to control this runaway situation. It would give him time to manoeuvre, to come up with a way out of this, time to think!

He heard the rush of emotion and relief in his mother’s voice. ‘Oh, thank goodness! I knew you would never, never break your promise to your father, my darling son!’

Automatically, his mind racing, Vito went into soothing mode, seeking to calm her—get her off the line so he could focus on how to neutralise Marlene, think through the implications of what he’d just agreed to.

It’s an announcement, that’s all—it’s not a wedding! That’s all Carla really wants—to shove her engagement to me into Cesare’s aristocratic face in order to save her own face. And I can go along with that—just for now. Until I can find a way to calm her down, get her onside so that the two of us can persuade Marlene to sell Guido’s shares directly to me without this farce of me marrying her daughter!

He sat back, his expression steeled. He was playing for time, that was all. He was staying Marlene’s hand, placating Carla, calming his distraught mother—finding a way out, a solution. A means to keep his promise to his dying father.

He headed back to his office. His first priority—after authorising that damn announcement—was to scotch those rumours about Falcone getting hold of any of the Viscari shares. He’d need to speak to his direct reports and his board members, to industry analysts, financial journalists... His mind raced down the list.

And, above all, he had to speak to Eloise.

You can’t announce your engagement to Carla and not explain the situation to Eloise!

He swore again. The need to get back to his office, do what had to be done there, was overwhelming. Rapidly, his mind raced. He could make the calls from his hotel suite, then talk to Eloise. Explain—

Explain what? Dio mio! Explain I’m going to get engaged to another woman!

Another curse of burning frustration dropped from his lips.

I didn’t want any of this! All I wanted was to have Eloise with me in Rome—just her and me, being together, exploring our relationship, finding out what we mean to each other. Time together.

And now Marlene and Carla were smashing that to pieces. Caring nothing at all for the complications of his own life right now. Of what was important to him.

But, like icy water washing over him, he knew what was really overriding what he wanted. He had to fulfil the promise he’d made at his father’s deathbed.

A hard, heavy weight pressed down on him. There was no escape. None. This was happening at the very, very worst time. But he must not let it endanger what he had with Eloise.

But how to keep her safe from it? Away from all the gossip that would inevitably break out once his engagement to Carla was announced? He would never expose Eloise to that!

A surge of protectiveness went through him as a possibility occurred to him—not perfect, but at least doable.

I’ll take her to Amalfi—she can stay there, waiting for me. I’ll explain why—ask for her patience, her trust, while I extricate myself from Marlene’s trap, give Carla time to see sanity. To come down from the hysterics she’s throwing all over the place!

But, even though he knew that getting Eloise out of Rome was essential, a sense of impending loss assailed him. He didn’t want to park Eloise down on the coast—he didn’t want to part with her at all, not even for a short while! Pressure like a vice crushed his skull. Pressure from his uncle, who had willed away half the Viscari legacy, from Marlene, hell-bent on forcing his hand, from Carla, intent on hitting back at the man who’d spurned her, and from his father, who had bound him with an unbreakable chain of love and loyalty, and his mother, desperate for him to accept that chain around him.

For an instant a vision flared in his mind—a vision so unbearably tempting he almost reached out his hand to seize it.

He and Eloise, walking hand in hand along a tropical beach in the moonlight. The Caribbean waves kissing their bare feet in the warm surf. Far, far away from here—far, far away from all that assailed him now! Free, oh, blissfully free of it all!

Let Marlene do her worst! Let her! Let his uncle’s damn shares pass out of the family.

I could do it—I could let it happen. I could grab Eloise by the hand and fly away with her...leave all this behind me. Just be with her.

The vision hung in his head like a jewel, and his longing to seize it was painful inside him. Then, as the vice around his skull tightened, he let the vision go. Dull, pitiless resignation filled him. He couldn’t run—he couldn’t abandon his duty, his responsibility.