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Her lips parted in disbelief. “Unreasonable?”
“I allowed you to stay in Rome—”
“Allowed!” she cried.
“—until Maria’s wedding. But I already made it clear. My headquarters is in New York. Tomorrow, we will pack a few suitcases and fly there. The rest of our things can be forwarded. It’s true. I have bought a brand-new penthouse close to my office, near good private schools for Nico.”
Vin sat back, looking pleased with himself, as if he expected praise. Scarlett felt numb.
“We already have a home, here in Rome,” she whispered.
“You’ll like New York even better when we arrive tomorrow night.”
“I’m not getting on a plane.”
Vin’s expression changed to a glower. “You have to face your fears.”
She hated his patronizing tone. “No, I don’t.”
“You have no choice now. You—”
“Children, children...” Vin’s father broke in, his weathered face anguished. “Scarlett, my dear one, I am sure my son only meant the best. But if you do not want to leave Rome, he will not force you. He is a good man. Vincenzo, my son, you must tell her that...”
Vin stood up so fast his chair fell to the floor of the dais. The noise of the crash echoed in the suddenly silent ballroom. His voice was cold as he looked at Giuseppe.
“Stop calling me your son. I am not.”
Giuseppe goggled at him. Joanne and Maria both drew back in shock.
Vin’s lip curled. “You wondered why I ignored you for twenty years?” he said in a low voice. “Right before my mother died, when I asked her if I could live with you in Tuscany, she laughed in my face. She told me I was the result of a one-night stand with some musician in Rio. She lied to you, Giuseppe,” he said deliberately, almost cruelly, “so you’d give her money. And you paid her. Blindly. Just as you blindly loved me all those years.” He slowly looked to Joanne and Maria. “So do not presume to lecture me. You are not my family.” He turned to Scarlett, his eyes like ice. “And you will do what I say. You have no choice. You signed the agreement.”
“Agreement?” She was still reeling from his revelation that Giuseppe was not his father. Then she realized what he was talking about, and a sick feeling rose inside her. “Those papers this morning—”
He glanced at all the people in the ballroom, then spoke too quietly for them to hear. “I always intended to make you sign, Scarlett. Either before marriage or after.”
The pre-nup he’d once threatened her with. The agreement that gave him the right to make all decisions about their baby’s life, and hers. The agreement that gave Vin full custody of Nico if he ever decided to divorce her. And she’d signed it.
Scarlett’s world was spinning, crashing, on fire. Standing up from her chair, she stared at him in horror. Then, snatching her crystal-encrusted minaudière from the table, she turned away in her four-inch heels, ducking around the waiters who’d just come pouring into the ballroom with the next course. By the time she fled the ballroom, she was crying.
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?
