The Italian Billionaire's Betrayal: What if you fell in love with the one person you couldn't have? A story of forbidden love and overpowering need.

by Clare Connelly

  She curled up into the armchair opposite him and tried her hardest not to stare. He was dressed in a suit, like he’d come straight from the office. It reminded her of the first night she’d met him. Their eyes met and his cynical smile showed he’d caught her looking at him. Pride kept her gaze locked on his. She refused to look away.

  Pete interrupted the tense moment, bringing over a glass of wine for each of them and sitting perched on the edge of Meghan’s armchair. To her chagrin, she noted the way he draped his arm possessively over her shoulders and she stiffened involuntarily at the small gesture. It spoke of intimacy and affection, and she knew Matteo would see it as a sign their ‘relationship’ was still in play.

  She shifted a little nervously.

  “What brings you to us, Matteo?” Pete’s words were an unknowing incendiary to Matteo’s already stretched temper, encompassing Meghan and him as a unit. An item.

  He sipped on his wine. “Tony is not well. He’s asked you to return to Italy.”

  Pete snorted. “A ruse, surely. Grandfather’s as fit as an ox.”

  “He’s been unwell for some time, actually.” Matteo corrected quietly, and his face held a warning. “We don’t expect him to have long left. He would like to see you.”

  Before their weekend in Italy, Meghan had always thought Pete loveably childish. His immaturity was sweet, a little amusing, even. But now, viewed through the filter of how his family saw him, and in light of his revelation about Sofia, she felt embarrassed at the way his shoulders slumped and his face reflected his annoyance.

  “I had plans tonight.” He stood with an impatient sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll go pack. When do we leave?”

  “Tonight.” Teo said firmly. “As soon as you can be ready.”

  “Megs, can you be ready in a hurry?” Pete turned to her, drinking his wine in one sip.

  Her eyes flared in shock. “Oh...” She mumbled. “I can’t. I have to work.”

  Pete knelt in front of her, beseeching. “Please.” He whispered, and she felt her stomach roll over with guilt. She shook her head. “Please, Megs. I can’t do it without your support.”

  “I can’t. I really can’t. One of my youngest patients has heart surgery tomorrow. I have to be there. I’m sorry.” She raised her eyes over his head to encompass Matteo. She mouthed her apology at him, but he simply turned away from her, refusing to acknowledge her further. His withdrawal hurt, and she cursed Pete again for his selfish character.

  It might not have been completely fair, for Pete had no idea that she and Matteo had shared what they had... and yet... as Meghan covertly studied the older brother now, she realised that her feelings went way beyond the physical. She had fallen in love with him. Totally, and completely, in a way that she had never experienced before.

  It wasn’t logical.

  It wasn’t explicable.

  And it certainly made no sense, but love him she did.

  She frowned.

  “All packed, babes. You sure you won’t reconsider.” Pete announced entering the lounge room with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

  She hugged him. “I would if I could. Give Tony my best. I hope they’re wrong.”

  “Me too.” Pete acknowledged.

  Matteo was standing by the front door, staring out into the hallway.

  He didn’t look at her, just nodded vaguely in her general direction. After they’d left, she sank against the wall, her head spinning. She dropped her gaze and there, on the lounge, was a mobile phone. She frowned. It wasn’t hers and it wasn’t Pete’s, which meant it had to be Matteo’s.

  She scooped it up and walked brusquely towards the door. She wrenched it open just as Matteo appeared, enmity writ across his face.

  “What the hell, Meghan?” He demanded hoarsely, shutting the door and effectively pinning her against the wall with an arm on either side of her head.

  She shook her head. “It’s not what you think. Please, let me explain.”

  “Let you explain? Do you really think I’d be so damned foolish as to believe you twice?” He railed, pushing away from the wall so that he could pace the room. “I can’t believe I even thought about trusting you. You! Of all people!” He shouted. “The day I met you, you were cheating on him, lying to me. And you continued to lie to us both the whole time, didn’t you?”

  She shook her head again, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s not like that. Please, speak to Pete.”

  “Ah! Speak to Pete! There’s an idea.” His rage was palpable. “How cleverly you convinced me not to tell him the truth about you. For fear of hurting him! And I bought it. More fool me.” He ran a hand through his hair.

  “I trusted you.” His rage was now directed inwards. “At Tony’s party, when you promised you would end it with Pete, I trusted you.”

  She moved to stand in front of him and tried to take his hands in hers, but he shook her off.

  “Teo, I do want you. I want this.” She gestured between them. “I want it so much it terrifies me. But things with Pete aren’t... easy to explain.”

  “Stop.” His voice was scathing. “I will never believe another word you say. In spite of the circumstances of our meeting, I trusted my instincts, that deep down, you were a decent woman. That the situation with Pete was not indicative of who you really are. Now I see I was just searching for a way to justify the fact that I desired you; the one woman I really couldn’t pursue.” He sucked in a deep breath, and his honey coloured eyes glinted with the ferocity of his mood. “You are not trustworthy. You are not honest. Frankly, you’re one of the most morally questionable women I’ve ever met and I find I no longer desire you at all. In fact, I should thank you for opening my eyes. Now that I finally see you for what you are, my obsession is cured.” He looked at her palms and reached down to retrieve his mobile phone.

  Tears ran down her cheeks. “Don’t say that, Teo, please. There is more to this than just lust...”

  “Don’t you dare!” He growled, pushing away from her and wrenching the door open with uncontained fury. “Did you truly believe I would wait indefinitely?” He looked her up and down, and his expression was one of sheer distaste. “You, Meghan Walker, are certainly not worth it.”

  He slammed the door shut and the loudness of the act made her jump. She sobbed loudly then, feeling her body wrack with the force of her sadness.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As the plane touched down in Rome, Meghan couldn’t believe she’d done it. Despite Matteo’s obvious enmity, Meghan had taken off work just as soon as she could, and flown to Rome. She wouldn’t have dreamt of it, in fact, she was terrified at the idea of seeing Teo again. Only Tony’s doctors had been right. Pete had called her two days ago to let her know that he had passed away peacefully in his sleep the night before.

  Matteo might not like it, but Meghan wanted to support her friend, and also to pay her respects to a man who she had come to admire and respect. She was lying to herself, of course. Matteo had not said a single thing she didn’t deserve, at least, with the information he had.

  She had to explain to him, and in order to do that, she would need Pete’s cooperation. It was unlikely that Matteo would believe her alone, now, so much mistrust had spread between them.

  This weekend would not present any opportunities, but at least she could convey to Matteo that she wasn’t simply going to go away.

  Although she was right up the front, comfortably ensconced in first class, she waited for the plane to empty before easing herself up. She was besieged by nervousness and doubt, but she simply had to do this.

  She’d hired a car over the internet before she’d left and it was a simple enough matter to collect it from downstairs. Driving it, less so. Megs rarely drove in Europe and so it was with a fierce concentration that she left Fiumuncino and headed North towards the Maratelli villa.

  After a few wrong turns and a particularly hair-raising stretch on the Autostrada, she was in countryside that looked familiar. She wound along a pine-fringed road an
d found herself in the middle of the little Terracotta village she could spy from up high in the villa. Villagers were dressed in black, and when she pulled over to stretch her legs (and build her courage) an old woman approached her.

  Though she spoke in a fast stream of Italian, the name Antonio Maratelli was clearly distinguishable. Meghan nodded in agreement and after a few more moments, the older woman left her again. His passing had touched many people. She wondered through the streets of the small township, and as she got further and further from her car, the smart little buildings gave way to more run down, rambling properties. Small farms, she guessed, from how spaced they were, and the huge plots of land that they backed onto. Further still, and she found a doctor’s surgery and school, sharing a building.

  It was a small but beautiful town, typical of many in this part of the country, she knew, and it owed its existence to the prosperity of the Maratelli estate. With a growing sense of unease, she slid into the passenger seat and pointed the car towards the Villa.

  The security team obviously recognised her from her recent visit, and she was waved through. Cars were parked on either side of the driveway leading up to the front entrance, but the security guard had directed her to the family’s garage. No doubt they still believed her to be Signore Pietro’s girlfriend and therefore eligible of being considered as a family member.

  Her teeth worried at her full lower lip as she eased the car into a spare space and cut the engine.

  She knocked at the entrance and one of the army of servants let her inside the house, explaining that everyone was in the courtyard. She steadied herself and then, filled with tension, stepped down into the formal outdoor area.

  Sofia saw her first, her pretty face contorted to show her displeasure at Meghan’s appearance. She dug a fine-boned elbow into Matteo’s ribs and he paused what he was saying to look in her direction. Briefly, she registered surprise there, and perhaps something else, but quickly he slid his eyes away, pretending not to have seen her.

  Pete, as she had known he would, came and wrapped her into an enthusiastic embrace. “I am so glad to see you!” He whispered against her ear. “Thank you for coming. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  She smiled at him. “Of course, Pete.”

  “Darling, how kind of you to come.” Nina greeted, her elegant high heeled shoes making clip-clop noises as she joined them, placing two kisses on each of Meghan’s cheeks. Giovanni was likewise civil. Only Matteo and Sofia seemed to struggle to disguise their displeasure.

  “This is a family time,” Matteo cut across, his voice cold. Even Sofia looked at him in surprise.

  Nina was transparently appalled by her son’s hostility. He was grieving the loss of his grandfather and mentor, true, but that was no excuse for rudeness. “Meghan is like family.”

  “And Sofia’s here.” Pete snapped, causing the woman in question to visibly pale.

  Meghan, used to defusing tense situations in her work, managed to summon her faculties. “I don’t mean to intrude, of course, I simply wanted to pay my respects and support Pete.”

  She lifted a challenging glance at Matteo as she spoke. His own expression was clearly filled with warning, but she chose not to heed it. All he could threaten her with was revealing the true nature of their relationship, and at that precise moment, it would have been a relief to get everything out in the open. Though this was hardly the ideal time.

  “You are welcome, any time.” Nina interjected firmly.

  “I beg your pardon, I thought this was my property.” Matteo’s words were firm. At the beseeching look on his mother’s face, he threw his hands in the air. “Do what you want.” He fumed, walked towards the courtyard entrance. “I just think this is a time for us to mourn privately, without outsiders.”

  Once he had retreated inside, Nina turned to Meghan. “I’m so sorry, dear. He is filled with grief over Tony’s passing. I would wish him to have better manners but he has always been a passionate man, and his sadness has obviously overtaken him.”

  Pete rolled his eyes. “Matteo’s behaviour can always be excused.” He muttered aggressively. “No matter how unforgivable.”

  Sofia, if it was possible, looked even worse. Meghan took pity on her, and the situation was clearly deteriorating. Pete, she realised, was spoiling for a fight.

  “Sofia,” Meghan said quietly, “I wonder if you can help me print some documents I need to review for work?”

  Despite their past antagonism, Sofia was quick to agree. “Si, Si. This way.”

  Once they were inside, she cast Meghan an appraising glance. “I do not understand Pietro sometimes.” It was said more to herself than Meghan, but Megs answered anyway.

  “Families always have tension and resentment. And there’s nothing like bereavement to make people lose control.”

  “But it’s so silly. Matteo does everything he can for Pietro. Always has. Pietro has no reason to be so filled with anger towards him.”

  Meghan’s scepticism was obvious and Sofia, as if remembering they were sworn enemies, pointed into the office. “Help yourself to anything you need; just call out if there’s a problem.” She scrawled something on a notepad she carried, oh so efficiently, in her handbag. “This is the computer password, so you can log on-line.”

  Meghan nodded and slipped into the office.

  The office, the scene of her passionate encounter with Matteo on the night of Tony’s party. She ran a finger along the edge of the desk, feeling the cool wood beneath her skin. She remembered what it had felt like when pressed against it by his desirable body and she shivered.

  Being back in Italy was so full of memories, and she wondered if coming here had been a huge mistake. But she hadn’t had a choice. There was a sense of destiny in all this, and she knew she couldn’t let Matteo walk away from her. Not like this.

  She sat down at his desk, easing into the comfortable leather chair and typing the Italian password into his system. It took her a while to understand how to navigate as everything was in Italian and the keyboard was different to what she was used to, but finally she managed to log into her work server and download the research paper she was co-authoring.

  As the last few pages began to spit out of the printer, she was startled by Matteo’s rumbling voice.

  “What do you think you are doing?” He demanded harshly, closing the door shut behind himself and taking long strides to reach her quickly. “What are you printing?” He ripped the papers from her hands and she jumped back, offended.

  “Do you think I’m guilty of some sort of corporate espionage, too?” She chided, balling her fists by her side.

  “I would not put it past you,” he bit out in disgust.

  “It’s work,” she explained exasperatedly. “Sofia said I could use the office...”

  “Sofia. Pete. My own parents. Why do they all seem so quick to accept your sweet and innocent routine and welcome you into the family?” He stared down at her, as if trying to see what they did. Apparently, he gave up. He threw his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat. “I trust you have everything you require?”

  No. She wanted to scream. She swallowed. “I... I want to speak to you.”

  He shook his head. “No. This I will not have. I do not want to hear your lies. I’ve told you that already.”

  “I am not going to lie to you.”

  “And pigs might fly,” he retorted sarcastically, sitting down at his desk. He clicked a few keys on the keyboard and moved the mouse, his attention focussed on the screen.

  “You can let yourself out?” He said thinly, after a moment, when she hadn’t spoken.

  Her heart feeling like it just might be breaking in her chest, she nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.

  “Then please do so. At once.”

  She dipped her head, studying the carpet beneath her feet. She tried to find the words that would make all this mess go away, but she drew a blank. Was there any way she could free herself from this tangle without betraying Pete
?

  “Meghan,” his tone was stern, and she looked up at him, their eyes meeting. “Do you not speak English now? I said Get Out.”

  She turned and fled, documents forgotten on the floor of his study. She would retrieve them later. She couldn’t handle the idea of seeing him again. It was too much to process.

  His apparent hatred for her was soul destroying. She went in search for Pete, and when she found him, he was by the pool, dressed in a pair of swimming trunks that left little to the imagination.

  “Join me?” He invited, emerging from the water and seeing her standing there.

  “I didn’t bring bathers,” she said regretfully, for the water looked beautiful and the day was intensely hot.

  He frowned. “Swim in your underwear. No one will care. This is Italy, the land of the progressive and enlightened.”

  She blushed. “I couldn’t.”

  “Swim in that, then.” He pointed to her outfit. She looked down at the linen shorts and singlet top.

  “I suppose I could...” she considered it, and snuck another look at the inviting water.

  “Come on.” He prompted. “It’s beautiful.”

  She acquiesced easily enough. Her argument with Matteo had left her feeling tense and on edge, and she needed to burn off some energy. She removed her slim Longines watch and placed it on a pool bed, and kicked her sandals off too.

  The water was deliciously refreshing and despite the weight of her clothes, she enjoyed the sensation of lying on her back and feeling the water lap against her side. As she floated, staring up into the blue sky, Pete lay beside her, and wordlessly they paddled. She knew how grateful he was for the companionship.

  Her eyes drifted over the villa and as they skimmed lower, they were arrested by Matteo, standing at his office windows, staring down at them. In an unguarded moment, she saw his face, and she saw the anguish there. Was it anguish for her though? Or was it all about Tony’s passing?

  She looked away before he realised she’d seen him, and turned her attention back to Pete.

  By dinner time, Meghan was feeling stronger, and better able to cope with the emotional minefield that lay ahead. At least, she hoped she was.