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‘But they were bought by Nic Falcone,’ he said.
He swallowed, still staring. Incapable of anything other than disbelief and paralysing shock. What the hell was going on here?
‘No,’ Eloise’s mother contradicted him, ‘they were bought on his behalf by the hedge fund Nic Falcone had to enlist in order to fund the acquisition. I have now bought them from the hedge fund at a price they did not wish to refuse. Falcone had no say in the matter—though I believe he is not best pleased!’
She snapped her handbag shut with a decisive click.
‘However, his displeasure is of no account. The shares are now the property of your son—although,’ she said kindly, her gaze sweeping Eloise and Vito, ‘the two of you are his proxies until he reaches majority.’
Shock was still detonating through Vito. Shock and incomprehension.
‘Mrs Dean,’ he said, his voice still hollow, ‘I don’t understand...’
Eloise’s mother held up her hand in an imperious fashion. ‘I don’t use my married name—when I set up in New York I reverted to my maiden name. Forrester,’ she said, with something of a snap. ‘I saw no reason to credit my faithless ex with any part of what I had achieved without him!’
Vito’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then, from somewhere very, very deep in the recesses of his brain, a synapse fired.
He stared at Eloise’s mother. ‘Forrester...’ he said.
He paused. Another synapse fired, giving him a possible explanation of what he’d just heard.
‘Good God,’ he said tonelessly, ‘Forrester Travis...’
Disbelief was the only emotion in his voice.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Eloise!’ came her mother’s snap. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never explained to him what I do!’
Eloise looked at Vito. ‘Mum runs some kind of investment firm,’ she said belatedly. ‘With a guy called Travis. Somewhere downtown.’
A noise escaped from Vito’s throat. ‘Your mother is Susan Forrester?’ he said blankly, as if he could not credit his own words. ‘Susan Forrester of Forrester Travis.’
He took a breath, his gaze going back to Eloise.
‘Cara mia, Forrester Travis is one of the world’s foremost hedge funds! It has something like thirty billion dollars under investment—’
‘Thirty-four point five,’ corrected Susan Forrester, one of the most outstandingly influential women on Wall Street. She drew breath. ‘Well,’ she said dryly, ‘if my daughter really never told you about me at least I can be satisfied you haven’t made up to her for her prospects!’
Vito got to his feet. Looked at Eloise’s mother. His mind was still reeling with who she was and what she had done.
‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’
‘It was the least I could do,’ said Eloise’s mother. Her expression changed again, and she sighed. ‘I told you I won’t make a doting grandmother, but whatever Eloise says about me I want only her happiness.’
There was the slightest catch in her voice, and then she squared her shoulders.
‘Well, now that everything is sorted I must go. I’m lunching with the president of Banco Brasilão, and clearly...’ her voice became dry ‘...I am quite unnecessary here.’
Her voice became even more dry.
‘Vito will need time to assimilate the situation, and doubtless to phone Italy and apprise his own mother of her forthcoming welcome transformation into a grandmother! I look forward to making her acquaintance in due course, and to reaching some degree of mutual agreement as to the style of wedding you two are to have.’
Eloise leant forward to catch her mother’s hand. ‘Mum,’ she said, and her voice was charged with emotion, ‘thank you.’ She swallowed. ‘Thank you,’ she said again. ‘For everything.’
She couldn’t say any more—her throat was suddenly tight again. She could only press her mother’s hand, hoping by that feeble gesture to express her gratitude for what her mother had done—waved her Wall Street wand and restored to Vito the Viscari legacy that Marlene had so ruthlessly disposed of. The legacy that Vito had sacrificed to win her back...the price he had paid for her love.
He gave it up for me! Put aside the vow he made his father for my sake.
And now he had been rewarded for his sacrifice, and she was glad with all her heart and so, so grateful to her mother! She felt her eyes mist and knew, with a deep sense of familiar irony, just how much her mother would hate such emotionality.
