by Jennie Lucas
How could she have been so stupid?
She should have listened to her fears, not her hopes.
Don’t tell him about the baby.
Don’t get a DNA test.
Don’t marry him.
Don’t love him.
And most of all:
Always read before you sign.
Furiously, she wiped her eyes, but tears clouded her vision as she stumbled into the empty, high-ceilinged hallway. She saw Beppe leave his post outside the ballroom door and start to follow her.
“Don’t even think about it!” she barked. She’d never spoken sharply to him before. She had the unhappy satisfaction of seeing him stop, his expression hurt.
Turning away, Scarlett ran past a security guard sleeping in a chair inside the foyer. She went out the front door of the palazzo, through the same door where she’d arrived with such happiness on Vin’s arm just hours before.
Then, the exclusive Roman street had been jammed with arriving cars, gleaming and luxurious, many driven by chauffeurs. Now, the street was dark and cold and empty.
It was so cold, the drizzle of rain had turned to soft, silent snowflakes. A small dog trotted down the street sniffing at doorways. She saw a shadow of a homeless man leaning against the corner. She shivered as snowflakes melted like ice on her bare skin. She’d been in too much of a hurry to grab her white stole. But who cared about being cold?
She’d been so happy. She swallowed against the ache in her throat. With her baby. Her home. The man she loved. So completely happy.
But it had all been an illusion. Vin baiting his trap.
She had to get out of here.
Scarlett’s heart pounded as she stood alone in the darkness in front of the palazzo. Down the street, she saw a taxi coming her direction. She could flag it down. She could rush to the villa, grab Nico and disappear. She knew how. She’d done it before.
Her heart pounded as she watched the taxi draw closer. The thought of leaving Vin, even now, and also separating him from the baby he loved, filled her with anguish.
She tried to steel herself. She told herself she had no choice. She raised her hand to flag down the taxi.
Freedom. For her entire childhood, freedom had been her rallying cry. She had to follow her dream—
Scarlett remembered the look on her father’s face the day she turned eighteen and told him she’d given up her dreams of college and ever settling down. With tears in his eyes, he told her that after all their years on the run, he was turning himself in.
“What about freedom?” she’d cried.
“We were never free,” he’d said quietly. “Not once. I made a horrible mistake, Scarlett. I was a coward. Running away all these years, I ruined your life, and your mother’s. But no more. You will be free now.” He’d taken a deep breath. “I’m doing this so you’ll be free.”
“Signorina?”
The taxi driver was looking at her impatiently through his open window.
Scarlett stared at him. Then, lowering her arm, she slowly shook her head. Numbly, she watched the taxi drive off.
She’d run from Vin before. If she ran now, kidnapping her innocent baby from his father, starting life as a fugitive, she wouldn’t be following a dream of freedom. Not when her only idea of real freedom was to have family, stability and a real home.
“Scarlett!”
Her shoulders tightened at Vin’s angry voice behind her. With a deep breath, she turned to face him.
He stopped in front of her as gentle snowflakes flurried softly to the sidewalk in the dark, cold night. “There’s no point in running away,” he said quietly. “The postnuptial agreement gives total control of our baby’s future to me. And since I know you’ll never be parted from him—” he reached out to caress her cheek “—that gives me total control over you.”
For a second, she shook with fear, with regret, with rage. Then she remembered the one thing she still had.
Love.
With a deep breath, she lifted her chin, looking straight into his eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.”
Vin looked surprised. Then he caught himself and glared at her. “Good—”
“But I’m not going to let you push me around.” She put her hand over his. “I love you, Vin. And you love me. That was the whole reason for this, wasn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re afraid to love me.”
He dropped his hand with a snort. “Afraid.”
“Yes, afraid. So you tried to create a wall between us.” She stepped closer, until she could see the white of her breath mingle with his in the faint light. She could see the snowflakes that had fallen in his dark hair and eyelashes. “But I’m not going to let you do it. We love each other. We belong together.”
“You signed it. There’s nothing you can do now.”
“You’re wrong.” Reaching up, she gently caressed his rough cheek and whispered, “I can call your bluff.”
His eyes widened, and he staggered back.
“You won’t hurt me,” she said. “You can’t. Because you love me. And I love you.”
“Stop saying that—” he said hoarsely. He clenched his hands at his sides, then turned on his heel, stalking back into the palazzo, leaving Scarlett standing alone on the sidewalk on the dark, quiet street.
She turned her face toward the snowflakes, relishing the feel of them, soft and cold, against her overheated skin.
She had to be right. She had to be.
If she was wrong...
Scarlett heard heavy footsteps behind her. Had Vin already returned to tell her he’d changed his mind about the postnuptial agreement? Filled with hope, she turned.
But it wasn’t her husband. The scruffy-looking homeless man from the corner now stood before her.
Confused, she drew back. “Can I help you?”
The man was dressed badly, his face lumpy. But when he smiled, she suddenly choked out a gasp as she recognized his face beneath the dirt.
“Yes, Scarlett.” Blaise Falkner’s eyes looked crazy above his evil smile. “You can.”
* * *
As Vin entered the palazzo, his whole body felt tight, his hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t even know where he was going. He just felt sick inside. Panicked. Like he had to either fight or run.
He couldn’t fight Scarlett, so he’d run. He’d never run from anything in his life.
Vin ran an unsteady hand over his forehead.
When he’d told Scarlett about the post-nup, he’d expected to feel triumph, or at least a sense of calm control.
Instead, watching the happiness in his wife’s eyes melt into horror, Vin had experienced a physical reaction he’d never expected. His hands had tightened into fists. He’d instantly wanted to destroy whomever had hurt her.
Except he had no one to blame—but himself.
“Vincenzo.”
Vin abruptly stopped in the gilded, high-ceilinged hallway when he saw Giuseppe waiting for him.
Just what he needed. He gave a silent curse. Another person to heap scorn on him, when he was doing a fine enough job heaping it on himself. He bit out, “What do you want?”
Giuseppe came forward, solemn in his formal tuxedo. “We have to talk.”
“Make it quick.”
“I always knew you weren’t my biological son.” He gave Vin a small smile. “Is that quick enough for you?”
He gaped at him, dumbfounded. “What?”
The older man shook his head. “Vincenzo, your mother’s eyes were blue. So are mine. What are the chances we could conceive a child with eyes as dark as yours?”
After twenty years of keeping the secret, Vin was staggered. “But my mother used you for money. For years. Why didn’t you tell her to go to hell, tell her I wasn’t yours?”
“Because you are mine,” he said, coming forward. “From the moment I held you as a tiny baby, Vincenzo, I was your father.”
Vin thought of the first moment he’d held his own son in his arms. He knew what that felt like.
Giuseppe put his hands on Vin’s shoulders. “I didn’t give a damn what some DNA test might say. I loved you. You were—you are—my son. And you will always be.”
Vin felt dizzy, like he’d gotten drunk on that one glass of champagne. The floor was trembling under him.
He’d been so wrong. He, who’d believed he could never be wrong about anything, had been wrong about everything.
He thought he’d never run away from a fight?
He’d been running for twenty years.
All these years he’d avoided Giuseppe and Joanne, avoided emotion, avoided life. For what? For the sake of a secret that didn’t matter?
His whole adult life, he’d tried to control everything, to make sure he never felt tied to anyone, so he’d never feel pain when they left. When, against his will, he’d come to care for Scarlett, it had terrified him so much he’d thought he needed to bring her to heel. To make her his slave.
Had he really thought he could rule her with a piece of paper? He was powerless where she was concerned. No pre-nup or post-nup in the world could change that.
I love you, Vin. And you love me. That was the whole reason for this, wasn’t it? You’re afraid to love me.
Giuseppe sighed ruefully in the hallway. “I just wish I’d known that was the reason you stayed away from us.” He glanced at his wife, who’d come up behind him, followed by Maria. “We were foolish to keep silent, but we didn’t want to give you more reasons to stay away.”
“You knew, too?” Vin said to Joanne. She smiled, even as she wiped tears away.
“Of course I knew, darling. Giuseppe and I have been married a long time. We have no secrets.”
“Well, I didn’t know!” Maria cried sulkily behind her, tossing her long white veil. “No one tells me anything!”
Vin glanced at his young sister in her white wedding gown, and in that instant, his whole life came sharply into focus.
Scarlett was right. About everything.
Part of him had thought if he pushed her, she would flee, which would prove his worst beliefs and justify his actions in making her sign the post-nup.
He’d wanted to push her away.
You’re afraid to love me. Yes, afraid. You tried to create a wall between us. But I’m not going to let you do it. We love each other. We belong together.
From the first moment he’d met Scarlett, so silly and free in the New York dive bar, choking at her first taste of vodka, he’d been enchanted. He’d never met anyone like her, so feisty and sexy and warm.
He’d wanted her from the start, and he’d been willing to make deals to possess her—like his ridiculous fantasy that he could protect his own heart, and stay in control, by making her sign a form, or by trying to love her less, because he, the one who cared less, was the one who had the power.
But that was wrong. He saw that now.
It wasn’t the one who loved less who had the power, but the one who loved more. Not because you could control the outcome, or keep from getting hurt, but because it meant you were brave enough to live without fear, hurtling yourself headlong into both joy and pain.
Being a fully alive human being, with the courage to love completely—what could be more powerful than that?
And as much as he loved his son, it wasn’t the baby who’d first cracked open his heart.
It was Scarlett.
He looked at his father. “I need to go talk to my wife.”
“Go, son,” Giuseppe said fiercely. “Show her who you really are!”
Vin nodded, turned back down the hall.
He never should have rented their home out from under her. Another way he’d tried to push Scarlett into hating him. It had never felt like his home—until now. Scarlett had taken the sad, faded, tumbledown prison of his childhood and brought it to joyous life.
She’d done the same for him. Before they’d met, Vin had been focused on money and power, to the detriment of his own happiness. He’d been so afraid of being vulnerable that, if Scarlett hadn’t shown up in the New York cathedral that day, he would have married a woman he didn’t give a damn about.
If not for Scarlett, he would have turned into a man like Salvatore Calabrese: selfish, shallow and cold, too insecure to risk the only thing that mattered. His heart.
So many things Scarlett had done for him, and all she’d asked in return was for him to love her. For him to be the man he’d been born to be. The man she deserved.
Vin’s walk turned into a run. Nodding at the sleepy security guard sitting inside the foyer, he pushed open the front door.
Outside the palazzo, the street was dark and quiet. Silent white snow fell softly to the ground. But where was Scarlett?
Then he saw her.
Still in her diamond necklace and sapphire-colored gown, her red hair looked tangled and twisted, and she had terror in her eyes.
A man was holding her. A man with a gun. A man with all kinds of darkness in his eyes.
“Vin!” she cried, struggling.
“Borgia.” Blaise Falkner gave him a cold, evil smile. “I should have known you wouldn’t keep away for long. You’ve wrecked my plan, but I’m almost glad. Now you’ll see what I’m going to do to her, right in front of your eyes.”
Terror ripped through Vin’s heart as he looked from Falkner’s face to the revolver, black as a deadly snake, held against Scarlett’s forehead. For a split second, Vin’s world started to go dark with fear.
Then he took a deep breath. He didn’t do fear. Ever. And he wasn’t going to start now, when his wife needed him to be strong. There was only one emotion he could let himself feel right now. He let the waves of it roll over him, like an ocean in a storm.
Rage.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHEN BLAISE HAD pulled a gun on her in the quiet, snowy street, Scarlett had thought bitterly of how Vin had ordered her to keep a bodyguard nearby. Why hadn’t she listened?
Because she’d never imagined she might need a bodyguard in the center of Rome. She’d never imagined that anyone might want to attack her...
“I’ve been watching your house for a week,” Blaise had said, keeping his black revolver trained on her. “Hoping to get you alone.”
“Why?” Her teeth chattered. “You can’t still want to...to marry me?”
“Marry?” His lip had twisted scornfully as he came closer, until she could smell the sickening stench of old sweat half masked with musky cologne. “I’m way past that now. Your husband made this personal. He ruined my life. Now I will do the same to him.”
Snowflakes fell softly against her skin. But that wasn’t what froze her to the bone. “How?”
“He loves you.”
“You heard us argue—”
“Yeah, I heard it all. It’s perfect.” His smile became venomous. “Now when you disappear, he’ll blame himself for the rest of his life and think he drove you away. He’ll always wonder. He’ll never know.”
“You can’t!”
“Watch me.” With his gun still trained on her, he snatched her crystal-encrusted clutch bag from her hand. “My car is around the corner...”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She straightened. “Shoot me here.”
“You’ll go. Or my next stop will be at your house. Your baby is there, with no one but the housekeeper to protect him. Shame if they had a little accident. If the doors were blocked and the place went up in flames.”
“No!” she cried, whimpering at the thought. “I’ll go with you. Just leave them alone...”
“That’s more like it.” Blaise motioned with the revolver. “Over there, in the alley...”
But as she started to move, the front door of the palazzo banged open. Quick as a flash, Blaise grabbed her, placing her in front of him, holding the gun to her forehead.
Scarlett nearly cried when she saw Vin had come out of the palazzo. His black eyes went wide when he saw them.
Then his hands clenched into fists.
“Let her go, Falkner.” Vin’s dark gaze focused on Blaise. “We both know I’m the one you want to hurt.”
“Not just hurt. I want to destroy you. And hurting her—” he gripped into her shoulder painfully, causing Scarlett to gasp aloud “—is the best way to do that.”
Vin took a step toward them. “We can talk about this. Negotiate...”
“There’s nothing to negotiate, and if you take one more step, she’s dead.”
Vin stopped. His voice was low. “You’ll die the second after she does.”
Blaise gave a cackle. “You think I care? You took everything from me, Borgia. My whole life. I can never go back. And now neither can you...”
Blaise pressed the cold barrel of the revolver sharply into her skin.
Vin threw Scarlett a brief glance full of meaning. “You’d attack her from behind?”
And she remembered that rainy afternoon in October. Here’s how to use your own body weight against an attacker who grabs you from behind... She gave him a single trembling nod, and then everything happened at once.
The door of the palazzo banged open as Beppe and two other bodyguards rushed out. As Blaise whirled to look, Vin planted his feet, lowering his body into an instinctive crouch.
With an exaggerated sigh, Scarlett sagged as if she’d fainted. It wasn’t hard at all. She was so terrified she was perilously close to fainting anyway.
Her unexpected weight broke his hold, and she fell hard to the cold, wet sidewalk.
With a loud curse, Blaise pointed the gun at her. He cocked it. She saw the deadly intention in his face.
As snowflakes whirled around her, Scarlett’s life flashed before her eyes. Her mother. Her father. Her baby. All the love she’d had. And Vin. Always Vin...
As she closed her eyes, bracing herself for death, she saw a shadow fly across her field of vision. But there was no mercy. The gun went off with a jarring bang, and she flinched, gasping.
But she felt nothing.
Was this what it felt like to be dead? Scarlett’s eyes opened, then she quickly ran her hands over her body. Somehow, though he’d shot her from four feet away, he’d missed her!
But Vin and Blaise were still struggling for the gun. The revolver fired once more, echoing loudly in the night.
