by Maya Blake
Puzzlement replaced the suspicion in Rocco’s eyes, prompting her to ask, ‘What?’
‘I did not know you had such intimate conversations with my grandmother.’ His frown evidenced his obvious displeasure at the knowledge and Mia couldn’t defend herself against the barb of hurt that pierced her.
To hide it, she lifted her chin. ‘There were a lot of things you didn’t bother to find out about me, Rocco, starting with the misconception that I was a thief.’
His jaw immediately tightened, an accurate sign that her barb had hit home. ‘The evidence against you was real. I had proof. My competitors came into possession of the blueprints the same day you attended the meeting. A source confirmed you were in possession of it when you arrived.’
‘That’s a lie!’ For the millionth time, Mia wracked her brain for why someone had concocted such a web of lies against her, but she came up empty. She shook her head to clear the memories and to think straight beneath the intensity of Rocco’s condemning scrutiny. ‘The only thing I had in my possession when I arrived for that meeting was my briefcase containing my laptop and portfolio. And as far as I know, toying with looking and being offered a job isn’t a crime.’
‘But you didn’t tell me you were looking for a job. You hid it from me until I confronted you with it.’
Mia inhaled slowly as remembered regret flooded her. Looking for another job had been the last thing she’d wanted, but with the Vitelli Construction office grapevine blazing with speculation as to how she’d landed the job working with Rocco, she’d known to preserve her professional integrity she either had to find another position or end her relationship with Rocco. The latter had been out of the question, of course.
The job offer with Rocco’s competitor had been, seemingly out of the blue, and a step down for her, but she hadn’t dismissed it out of hand. The knowledge that Rocco would dislike the idea even more was why she’d kept the offer under wraps.
She sighed. ‘I’d meant to tell you.’
‘Really? When?’ he sliced at her, derision rife in his tone. ‘As you were walking out the door to my competition?’
‘When I was sure I even wanted the job. Things were happening so fast. We were newly engaged and the Abu Dhabi project was about to take off and—’
‘So you thought the best way forward was to give the opposition a lending hand?’
‘No! If you must know, my professionalism was being called into question because...because we were involved. It didn’t matter that we were engaged. Everyone thought I landed my position because I was bedding the boss. My degrees and hard work didn’t count for anything, not when I apparently only needed to bat my eyelashes to get a promotion.’ Humiliating heat suffused her face at the admission and the memory of the whispering campaign she’d tried to overlook, but which had become unbearable in the end. Unable to bear the force of his stare, she turned her head, only to have her move thwarted when strong fingers cupped her jaw and reversed her retreat.
His eyes had narrowed into icy slits. ‘Who called your conduct into question?’
‘It doesn’t matter who.’ The past was the past. The last thing she was going to do was name Rocco’s cousin Alessandro as the prime culprit in her harassment and character assassination whenever the chance had arisen.
Alessandro Vitelli had pretended to be cordial with her in Rocco’s presence, but hadn’t bothered to hide his contempt when they had been alone.
The one time she’d confronted him and attempted to ascertain why he despised her so much, he’d implied it was all in her head. And had actually laughed at her.
Mia had tried to put that unpleasant episode behind her.
She’d seen the way Rocco fiercely protected his family, especially his grandmother. He wouldn’t have welcomed her pointing fingers then and she had nothing to gain by pointing fingers now. ‘You were so convinced I was in the wrong when you acted as judge, jury and executioner, and doled out your punishment. Why do you want to know anyway? Because there’s a possibility you might have been wrong?’ she threw at him, and added a sweet smile. ‘If that’s the case, then maybe I should leave you to wallow in your guilt.’
To say her response had annoyed him was an understatement. The hand that left her jaw to curve around her nape tightened only a split second before he yanked her close.
Her breath fled her lungs as the hands she threw up connected with hard muscles flexing beneath the expensive cotton of his shirt. Heat flared within her, igniting sensation along nerve endings now straining with acute excitement.
‘Wh-what are you doing?’ she gasped as he hauled her into his lap.
‘Reminding myself that there must have been something besides your abrasive tongue I found so appealing about you three years ago.’ His mouth hovered over hers, the hiss of his words landing like explosive little kisses on her lips.
With a desperate gasp, she parted them to suck in oxygen and trembled violently when a primitive growl echoed from his throat. One hand slid down her back to cup her behind, exerting pressure to bring her even closer.
‘You...we can’t—’
‘I assure you, Mia, we can, and I fully intend to.’
His mouth breached that last centimetre, searing her own with a burning fire that immediately overwhelmed, consumed her so every thought, every single objection flew straight out of her head.
Salvation came in the form of a loud snuffle as Gianni stirred in his sleep.
Beneath her, Rocco stiffened at the sound, then dropped his forehead to hers with a muted groan. ‘I now know what parents mean when they bemoan their children killing their sex lives.’ Warm self-derision invited her to share the joke.
‘You can rest easy, Rocco. We don’t have a sex life to bemoan. Hell, after we meet with your lawyers and get this straightened out, we don’t even need to be in the same vicinity unless strictly necessary.’
Her voice was reassuringly firm and even, her spine straight.
But inside, Mia was trembling. Crumbling beneath the brooding, enigmatic look he sent her. Because that look was ten times more potent than the one he’d delivered that chilling day in his office when he’d annihilated her.
And as the limo sped towards London, her instincts shrieked that they were far from done. That she was nowhere near being free of Rocco Vitelli.
CHAPTER SIX
THE OFFICES OF Rocco’s lawyers were located exactly where Mia suspected they would be—slap bang in the middle of the Square Mile ensconced behind its towers of steel and glass.
Sharply suited professionals moved around with brisk efficiency. Within minutes, they were whisked skyward and into a sleek conference room. Gianni took it all in his stride, his eyes wide as he looked around him. His usually effervescent questions had quietened down, perhaps instinctively sensing the momentous occasion. Or it might have been the firm hold his father had on him, the awe with which her son looked up at his father as they were ushered into the conference room.
Mia didn’t want to speculate any more than her wild imagination was already hammering at her. Rocco hadn’t spoken to her since her tight announcement in the car following their horrid little entanglement. His calculating gaze had settled on her more than a few times though, enough to heighten the sense of unsettling dread bubbling beneath her skin. She refused to engage in whatever he was plotting behind those sharply intelligent eyes.
A few short hours. That was all she needed to hold it together before she could be back in Hampshire with her son. All further dealings after today would be through lawyers she could employ once she was back on her feet.
The door opened, and a stream of lawyers entered. It was easy to distinguish between the Italian contingent and their English counterparts. The Italians were more flamboyantly dressed, their bespoke Milan suits shrieking their Latin flair, while their English colleagues were a little more conservative, although both could not ha
ve been mistaken for anything other than the sharp pool of sharks Rocco retained.
Conservative greetings were exchanged, and Mia watched them align themselves across the conference table.
They were barely settled when Rocco leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the senior partner. ‘Do you have answers for me?’
The older gentleman, with greying hair and rimless glasses, nodded. ‘Our investigators are still working through how this debacle came to be but my team has been able to confirm that your earlier suspicions were right. The documentation is all fraudulent.’
A tight knot unfurled in Mia’s belly, her breath expelling sharply. After years of living under the strain of persecution, she couldn’t believe how completely she’d been duped. But the utmost emotion rolling through her was relief.
Slowly, though, bitterness followed. Things had gone seriously wrong but it still couldn’t be denied that Rocco had cut her completely out of his life, not bothering to answer any of her emails long before this fraudulent court case had been brought.
‘How?’ she blurted, her voice thick with emotion she couldn’t contain. ‘How could this have been done without you or Rocco knowing?’ Deep down she suspected she knew. Only someone with a vindictive agenda and in a position of trust could’ve done this. Someone with the backing of Vitelli billions.
The English lawyer turned to her. ‘That was what we were hoping you would be able to shed some light on, Miss Gallagher.’
She frowned. ‘Me?’
Another lawyer, this one an Italian, leaned forward. ‘You attended the court, sì?’ he asked, his accent thick as he peered at her.
She gritted her teeth, choosing not to rise to the clear scepticism in his tone. ‘If you are in any way insinuating that I knew all of this was some huge set-up, you couldn’t be more wrong.’
‘The lawyers for the claimant are a small firm, we have discovered. Little more than a father and son outfit. The father, the one who dealt specifically with your case, is no longer practising. In fact he has fallen ill and is not in a position to testify to many of these allegations.’
Dismay hollowed her stomach. ‘And his son?’
‘Claims to have no knowledge of this affair.’
‘That’s terribly convenient, isn’t it?’ she snapped.
The lawyers exchanged glances. It was clear to Mia they had been thinking the same thing. About her.
She slapped her hands on the table. ‘What exactly is going on here? I came here to clear my name. And you started off this meeting by confirming that these allegations are bogus. So why do I feel I’m still under suspicion?’ She turned towards Rocco as she asked the last question. He was staring at her, narrow-eyed and speculative again. ‘Rocco? What is this?’
He shrugged. ‘We’re all trying to find answers, cara.’
She hated that he used that soft endearment. It was dangerous and misleading. Hypnotic in a way that swayed her into overlooking the sharp eyes still brimming with suspicion. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t have any,’ she remarked, bitter memory cutting sharply through her. ‘I got the summons and I turned up at court and grasped enough to understand that I was being accused of harassing and stalking you.’ Past hurt seared her insides but she refused to let it affect her. She needed to hold it together just enough to finish this and be gone. ‘The lawyer I hired confirmed it too. You were clearly stated as the plaintiff. So this is all on you. It’s your business to find out.’
‘But you do know something, don’t you?’ Rocco said it again softly, his eyes boring into her.
‘I’m not going to keep speculating. I’ve told you everything I know.’
‘But not everything you suspect,’ he pressed.
She kept her mouth mutinously shut.
His gaze remained on her face, probing beneath her skin for another minute before he faced his lawyers. ‘Someone impersonated me and pulled this off without any of you knowing. I’m beginning to wonder why I keep you on retainer if this is the level of service I receive.’
Half a dozen lawyers shuffled their papers and twitched in their seats. Eventually the senior partner spoke. ‘While we don’t wish to speculate, Mr Vitelli, we all agree that it could only have been someone close to you, someone who was sure they could carry this out without suspicion.’ A few glances settled on her.
Mia stiffened, ready to launch another defence but Rocco beat her to it. ‘Someone close to me?’ he echoed, his face taut.
The lawyer shifted in his seat before nodding. ‘Your investigators have been in touch with your IT department. It seems there’s evidence of deleted emails and possible tampering with your server. We think that the only person who could have done that may have been your assistant.’
Rocco’s jaw clenched. ‘My assistant has been with me since the very beginning. I trust him with my life. It’s not him. Look for a different culprit.’
Gianpaolo, Rocco’s assistant, had come straight from university into his role. Even Mia knew he would cut off his own arm before he betrayed Rocco. Just as she knew Rocco’s implicit trust in his assistant, where he’d had none for her, bruised deep.
Silence descended on the table, only disturbed when Gianni rose from his seat, reaching for the pen in front of Rocco. He’d been well-behaved thus far but Mia knew restlessness was about to set in with a vengeance. ‘Are we done here? I need to tend to my son.’
‘Pardon me, Miss Gallagher, I have one question. It may be a little bit indelicate, but it needs to be asked. Did you make any enemies while you were working at Vitelli Construction?’
She barely stopped herself from glancing at Rocco, the man who’d made himself public and private enemy number one the moment she’d attended an meeting with his competitor, then compounded her sins by informing him she wasn’t ready to start a family on his schedule. She bit her tongue, a part of her unwilling to antagonise the situation and a part of her wanting to state blatantly that he was the only nemesis she could think of.
But then he wasn’t the only one, was he?
Alessandro Vitelli had made it his life’s mission to make hers miserable the moment she’d set foot in Vitelli Construction. Could she say it now? It had been established that she had been duped. Wasn’t that enough?
‘If you know who it is, Mia, spit it out,’ Rocco said tightly, his face taut as he stared at her.
She inhaled slowly, her instinct screaming at her to keep the information to herself. But at the same time she wanted the truth of her suspicions explored. Deep down she knew she couldn’t rest until she discovered who had done this to her. ‘The only person I can think of is your cousin Alessandro.’
The first expression of shock was Rocco’s sharp intake of breath. Then the Italian contingent exchanged glances before their faces tightened.
Mia held herself tight. ‘What? You asked me a question and I’m sorry if you don’t like the answer.’
‘You happened to pick the only person who wouldn’t be able to corroborate your statement. A little curious, don’t you think?’ Rocco replied. If he had been tense a moment ago, he was downright rigid now.
‘What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t he?’
Brackets formed around his lips as he tightened them, staring at her for another tense moment before he rasped, ‘You know exactly what I mean. You accuse a dead man incapable of telling his part of whatever story you’re concocting.’
A cold rush of dread unravelled through her. Partly because she was receiving evidence that Rocco didn’t truly believe her. The other was at the news he’d just delivered. ‘Alessandro is dead?’ she whispered.
Again his lips flattened. ‘His car crash was sensationalised by the papers.’ His tone of voice suggested that she should know.
‘I don’t keep abreast of news headlines. Especially foreign ones. I’m too busy looking after my son.’
‘The TV and newspaper
s carried the story for days. It would have been impossible to miss.’
‘Well, I’m telling you it is possible because I missed it. The question remains do you believe me or do you think I’m making this up as well?’
‘What reason would he have to do this?’ Rocco asked stiffly.
She forced a shrug. ‘That’s what you have to find out for yourself.’
His nostrils flared, a very Latin, very emotive expression that sent a shiver down her spine.
‘So we have a perpetrator who is no longer with us and a co-conspirator lawyer who is unable to testify as to his role in this?’ He gave a thin smile.
She answered with one of her own. ‘Life has a funny way of unravelling, doesn’t it?’
His narrowed gaze raked her face before he turned his attention back to his lawyers. ‘We keep investigating. We don’t stop searching until we know the facts for certain. Is that understood?’
Brisk nods accompanied verbal assurances.
Rocco rose, leaned down to place a gentle hand on Gianni’s head, attracting his son’s attention from the picture he’d been drawing on the piece of paper.
Gianni looked set to protest at the interruption. Anticipating it, Rocco murmured in his ear. With a pleased grin, Gianni grabbed the paper and pen and jumped to his feet. Without addressing his lawyers again, Rocco strode after his son, leaving Mia to follow.
In the lift, Gianni chatted on, negating the need for his parents to converse. But the look Rocco pinned on her announced loud and clear that the conversation was far from over. Mia dragged her gaze from his, so overwrought by the events of the last hour that, once they were in the car, it took a while to notice that the driver was heading back out of London.
She turned to Rocco, who was staring at her, one finger dragging slowly across his lower lip in that contemplative way she knew all too well.
The question she’d intended to ask about where they were going dried in her throat. ‘When did he die?’
He exhaled heavily. ‘Almost eighteen months ago,’ he replied.
