Olivia met his gaze and for one moment she even looked like Mom again. But then she shook her head and hugged her waist. “I don’t remember that. I hope she knows I do love reading.”
He spun away. “I’m unsure what I feel and wish I never read that.”
Clara’s sweet voice broke the tension when she asked, “Can I see the letter?”
Olivia handed it to Clara and his shoulders were as rigid as steel. He couldn't move.
Until Clara read in her soft voice the end of the letter where his sister had stopped, “Astorre, you’re the new lord and Duke of Modena. Always model your grandfathers. They were good men. I’m dying now happy to know you weren’t here to see any of this. Please protect your sister who did.”
The dam that held his heart and soul together inside his body began to crack. He decided right then to follow what his mother advised.
He’d never sniffle over any of this ever again. He straightened like a general. “Olivia, what do you want to do with Max Fionalli?”
Olivia crossed her arms as she thought about this. “Want?”
Clara handed him the letter back and her small touch made him at ease when he asked his sister, “What is it you want?”
Olivia raised her nose in the air and said, “Have him arrested and brought to the Lord’s Justice.”
“For what?”
Olivia stood stiffer. “He knew he was banished from here. And my word was law.”
Part of protecting Olivia was ensuring she had her wishes granted. He nodded. “I will at once.”
He took Clara’s hand. "We meet in an old throne room that never held a throne." His family's duty was to sit in as arbitrators.
Olivia's mouth turned hard. “Then when he tells you his lie, that he loved me, I will come out behind the tapestry and take over.”
She would be able to say her piece in the traditional place of justice. "Done." If only he had the power to protect Clara as easily from himself.
Olivia departed to go to the advisor spot of old where she’d listen for her cue.
For a second, Clara stood still and just stared at him. He waved for her to join him and head to the throne room. “Clara, come with me.”
She joined him and asked, “What are we doing?”
They rushed through the great room and headed toward the back, but up the stairs. In medieval times the prisoner would have been marched through the great hall full of knights to see the lord commander. Now there were workers who at any time could use the hall, but no knights. “We’re acting as judge and jury today.”
Her eyebrows lifted but whatever she was thinking, she kept to herself.
He entered the old room that had the lord's chair higher on a dais than everyone else’s. The lady's seat was to the right, and slightly lower than his. This room was made of carved marble and well-maintained as it was still in use, a thousand years after being built.
He remembered his grandfather that his mother’s letter mentioned.
His grandfather had lived a long time and though he'd died less than a year before Astorre's parents, it was his investigations that ultimately exposed his son's traitorous plans. This place still had his long shadow. Unlike his father, everyone spoke well of his grandfather.
Astorre walked to the old chair and brushed against it as memories of his grandfather making everyone at ease, even while in charge, settled into his head. He would do his best to emulate him.
Clara interrupted his musing when she stared down at her seat like it was a strange foreign object. “Let’s not judge based on the actions of youth. Maybe Max is here for a legitimate reason.”
With her clear thinking and intelligence, she was worthy of her seat. He’d never done anything to earn the title of lord. He helped her sit to his right as she was his best counsel. “You and Olivia will handle the justice part when I give the signal.”
Shouting came from the hall. He jumped into the seat that didn’t deserve him as Clara asked, “What’s the signal?”
Men grunting overshadowed her question. He nodded at Clara as the doors were flung open and eight guards entered with Max in the center being carted in as a prisoner.
Astorre settled in his seat and pretended to be like his grandfather, the one he’d been named after. When Max was centered and placed below him, Astorre sat back and said, “Max Fionalli.”
Max fixed his clothes as if in total control. “Why am I being arrested?”
Astorre held Max’s gaze and the urge to fight him hand-to-hand hit him. His sister was not a toy in a man’s game to better himself. “You’re charged with conspiring against Montelino Bay’s best interest.”
Max’s face went white but he shook his head. “No.” He took a step forward. “I’m here to see…” The guards flanked him and he stopped coming toward Astorre and finished, “an old friend…not conspire.”
He heard the whisper of the tapestry where his sister hid behind his chair but then all was quiet. His spine stiffened and he hoped no one else had heard. He had to get Max to repeat what he'd said in Gibraltar. He pressed his thumb to his chin. “So you have zero interest in being lord here?”
Max glanced at the militia men of the castle on either side of him. “Honestly no, not now. I was a stupid kid back then to think so. This place is too old-fashioned for me.”
Now that sounded just like the boy he’d met in college who'd decided to chase after his little sister for a fortune. Astorre quirked his eyebrow and asked, “Then why have you walked through our gates, sir? The lady in residence had banned you.”
Max pivoted toward Clara without moving his feet. “I knew you were the nice one, Clara. It must be hard to be something you don’t want to be.”
Max wasn’t wrong on that one. Astorre knew that he'd asked too much from Clara. She'd married him because he’d offered her a better life than her old one, but she likely wished their life was simple, like he'd promised her, where they’d leave once things were settled with Olivia.
But as he sat here he knew he’d put off his duty for too long and he couldn’t back out now.
Clara met his gaze and she had the look of an angel when she said, “I want to be a good wife and help my husband here.”
She’d be better than him at this job, that he now needed to keep.
Which meant he'd broken his promise to her. He couldn’t just offer an easy life of travel. This was his fate and now he'd forced this on her too.
Max’s voice was angry when he said, “The people in this town will never accept an American nobody as their lady of the manor.”
“As you knew when we met in Gibraltar.” Clara’s face turned bright red as she clutched her seat. “My parents were the Baron and Baroness of Dona, a neighboring estate.”
And she was fair, good, and sweet, all important qualities that he didn’t possess. Astorre reached across his huge seat and took her hand. “Max does not understand our people or our ways, Clara.”
With his brows tight, Max said, “And you could have chosen to live there and had whatever you wanted without any of this responsibility.”
Another point for Max. Astorre’s hair stood on end and he let Clara’s hand go as he said, “None of this answers my question to you. Why are you here?”
Max snapped his feet together and said, “I came to see Olivia and apologize to her.”
Max wasn't done causing trouble here and he wanted to hurt his sister. Astorre had failed in leading the conversation as intended--he needed to follow through and get Max to admit his supposed love for Olivia. “In Gibraltar you told my wife that you and Olivia were in love and that I'd ruined your chance at marriage.”
He gave a smug expression. “Glad to know you newlyweds keep no secrets…” And then Olivia came out from the secret room behind the tapestry, hidden by Astorre's chair. “I was absolutely in love with Olivia," Max said, "and that’s why I’m here now.”
Olivia took the lowered seat on Astorre's left and sat like a queen. “You loved me?”
&nbs
p; “Olivia,” he said like he'd just glimpsed heaven itself. His sister was rigid in her seat as Max continued, “You never answered a phone, text, voicemail, or singing telegram I sent to you all these years.”
"Yes, in the weeks after I ended things, but that was followed with years of silence.” She kept her head high. “I’m not interested.”
Max stepped toward his sister. Astorre straightened and was ready to jump down in front of Olivia if necessary. The guards marched him backward a few steps and their boots echoed in the room. Max stopped and asked, “Olivia, is it true you had my child?”
His sister’s face drained of all color as she said, “No...”
That wasn’t a denial no, but an "I’ve been caught." She’d made the same sound when they’d played hide and seek and he’d won.
And his old room was now pink. His mind raced but he quickly said, “It doesn’t matter.”
Max answered in a belligerent tone, “It matters to me.”
“This is enough," Clara intoned. "Leave Montelino Bay and never come back, Mr. Fionalli.”
Astorre's skin was electrified. If he had a child in this world, he’d want to know. The anger inside him evaporated slightly when Max said, “I’d like to know if I had a son or daughter. Is that too much to ask of you?”
Astorre understood why his sister wouldn’t tell him and why she’d been okay with his long absences. He’d never questioned her and accepted her word on why she was leaving so fast the moment he’d arrived.
He’d never guessed his sister was a mom or that he was an uncle.
Olivia rose from her chair and decreed, “You forfeited any rights the moment you had sex with another woman while I was pregnant." Olivia's glance skimmed he and Clara to land on the waiting guards. "Now have him removed.”
It was all true.
Wow.
The guards began to pull Max away but he struggled and asked, “Olivia, where is this child? Why did you never tell me?”
Red hot adrenaline rushed in his veins. He clenched his fists, ready to kill Max with his bare hands if the man came any closer.
His sister’s voice brought him back. “You have no rights to any child. I chose to give birth knowing we’d never see you again. When my child is eighteen, then there is an option to meet you if you’re both still alive and the child desires it.”
His spine was still stiff but he forced himself to relax his fists. Murder wasn’t the answer.
Besides, his sister hadn’t even mentioned whether her child was a girl or boy to Max. Or to him, but he guessed the pink sheets in his old room were for his niece now. She'd chosen her words carefully. Astorre said, “My sister’s child would be her own to decide and ours to protect.”
Max’s voice had a crack in it when he said, “All I ever heard were whispers.”
Olivia quickly asked, “Why do you care now?”
He’d have the same questions if Clara left and he heard she’d had his child. Not that he’d blame her. It’s not like the Manfredi name was clean.
Max shouted to Olivia, “Because I have rights.”
Clara coughed and they all turned to her as she asked in a soft but firm tone, “How much will it take to make you forget your rights?”
Max looked offended for all of two seconds, then nodded at her. “You are clever, Clara.”
Money. Astorre should have guessed.
Clara let out a snort. “What’s the going rate these days for your sperm donation?”
The room grew quiet. Astorre wondered what Max might say, but then he bowed like he’d just made a deal. “I will relinquish all parental rights for five million euros.”
Olivia glanced at Astorre, her eyes narrowed at Max. “Pay him from my dowry." She pointed regally toward the door. "Now get out and never come back.”
The guards walked Max out without further problem.
Olivia jumped out of her chair the instant the doors closed. He thought she might run so he quickly got up and said, “Olivia, I wish you’d told me I was an uncle?”
Tears fell from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought at the time…"
Her voice trailed off but she didn’t need to say more. She was right. He could turn into their father. Why take that chance?
Olivia wiped her face and said, “I thought I might take my Sophia out of Avce and show her the world for a year. But it seems I can never go.”
"Why not?” Clara asked.
Her shoulders slumped. “If I take her away from here, I don’t trust Max wouldn’t try… not until he cashes a check.”
Clara’s voice was soft as she said, “I understand.”
His muscles tensed and part of him wanted to go and rip Max’s head off his body, and the image of doing it played in his mind in full color.
“I’ll bring her to lunch if you wish, Astorre, and you and Clara can meet her.”
They stood like court was over.
But his mind raced as he stepped to follow.
How did he protect a little girl from his own eventual spiral? It was better to send Clara, Olivia, and Sophia away.
Clara came to his side. “You said you wanted to study to be a therapist, Olivia.”
Olivia nodded. “I did. I do. But I also want my daughter to know more than castle walls.”
“Once the pay-off money is paid and the contract signed, you can do whatever you want.” If no one was here, he couldn’t hurt them. Astorre crossed his arms, needing confirmation from Olivia that she saw the truth in his soul. “Why didn't you tell me?”
She let out a long, sad sigh as she asked, “Why didn’t you come home for more than short spurts when I demanded you be here? You thought you’d turn into our father? For a while I was afraid of that too, but then I grew up--you didn’t. You ran from here.”
That was a nice way of confirming that she thought he was reckless and unstable and unworthy. “I…I’d like to meet my niece.”
“Okay," Olivia said. "Let me explain things to her that she’s safe now. Lunch.”
All he had to do was control himself from going crazy for a few more days. How to get Clara out of here? She needed to live and not ever be hurt because of him.
Once Olivia left, Clara reached for his arm. He lowered it as she said, “Astorre, we should talk.”
“Not now. I need to be alone first.” He stepped away from her. Part of him wanted to take her right here, right now, but he couldn’t ever touch her again. That was a path to losing all control and he needed to figure out how to send her away.
It would be for the best.
Chapter 14
Clara’s skin was electrified as she made her way back to their room.
This was the only place where no one would see her, which was the best. She closed the door behind her and tried to calm down.
Adrenaline rushed through her. She was now part of a family and she hadn't handled herself well. She didn't know their customs and Astorre hadn't explained what he'd expected of her.
With Max, she thought she’d solved the problem when she'd cut to the chase of his wanting money, but then Astorre had turned away. Maybe she'd overstepped.
She probably had. Rules of being a lady weren’t exactly something she knew. No one had been in her life to model the behavior. She'd failed, when she'd wanted to help.
Clara went to the window and peeked out the arrow slit holes that had been paned with modern glass.
At some point someone had dug into the walls, modernized for electricity, windows, the internet, and then put the stones back up like they’d never been touched.
More fog rolled in from the bay.
If only the clouds could cover her mistakes… she knew better than to put her heart on the line. She'd failed and would now get rejected.
It was already happening--Astorre had turned from her when they'd grown so close. The rejection reminded her of Grandmother May. No matter how hard she'd tried to please her, it hadn't been enough.
She’d screwed up by interfering in something that
wasn't her business--tears spilled down her cheeks.
Clara collapsed on the bed--her phone rang and her best friend’s face showed on the screen.
She wiped her eyes and answered, “Rossie, how are you?”
“Great.” Rossie’s happiness was evident in every syllable. “How are you settling into Montelino Bay, and when can I visit?”
Clara laughed though it sounded hollow, at least to her. Rossie would be here within the hour given the right incentive--and she could use a friend. “The castle is very fascinating.”
"Castle?" Rossie’s voice lifted with excitement which meant she was planning a run over, right now. And to be fair, Rossie had given her more space than she normally would have if they were back home in Miami. “Now that’s interesting.”
Clara imagined Rossie racing to get her shoes. She stood up and wished she'd been wrong about love. When she lowered her guard she got run over like road kill.
Today was just a warning shot. She forced a happy tone. “Astorre’s home was a defensive castle going back eons or something. It’s all historic and authentic. We even have a house color like medieval times.”
“And I can come over, when?” Rossie asked.
Clara had spent years admiring her friend who did what she wanted--Rossie had found love because she wasn’t afraid…and she'd never been rejected.
Clara was the exact opposite. “My doors are open. I miss having my friend around.”
Rossie said fast, “I’ll text when I figure out how soon I can be there.”
Translation: Rossie needed to grab her husband and the car keys. Clara already felt her spirits lift. “Great.”
“Clara?” Rossie sounded like she'd stopped whatever she was doing.
Oh no. She knew. Clara’s skin had goosebumps as she asked, “Yeah?”
“What’s wrong?”
Her mind raced to cover and put off answering. “How do…” But her friend knew her. Her shoulders slumped. “Since coming here, life isn’t what I expected.”
Rossie asked, “What were you thinking it would be?”
Good question. She recalled how she'd tried to get Rossie to slow down in her rush to marry and fall in love with a total stranger. But of course life worked out for Rossie as it always did.
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