“And did you ever learn why he hatesyou?” His voice was quiet. Maybe it even held concern or curiosity, or some other gentler emotion, but it was a hard turn of a fresh knife that was still lodged in her chest.
“That is none of your business.None.”
She started into the penthouse, but he was on his feet and blocking her before she’d rounded the table.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said through his teeth.
She ignored him, veering toward the far doors, ignoring Florenza’s concerned glance as she made her way to the guest room. She locked herself into the bathroom and managed to stave off the tears until she was under the stinging spray of the shower.
Rocco didn’t deserve her tears. She knew that. This wasn’t about how angry or hurt he’d made her, anyway, mistrusting her after she’d given herself over to him so completely. It wasn’t even that he’d pushed the very tender button of Otto’s disregard.
It was her own realization that she cared what he thought of her. That she was back in that space of worrying and yearning and feeling worthless. Of allowing someone else to affect her. No. Just no.
She emerged and dressed in clothes she had picked out at the boutique the other day. Rocco had paid for all of it and she was loathe to accept them, but she was grateful for fresh underwear and a modest outfit. She pulled on striped trousers with a flowing top in similar earthy tones. Her damp hair went into a ponytail tied with a sheer silk scarf. A light application of makeup hid the remnants of tears and gave her a mask to hide behind as she walked away from everything else.
When she arrived in the living room, she discovered the kitchen was tidy, the doors to the terrace closed. Rocco was waiting for her dressed in a dark blue suit that amplified his innate power and command.
“I asked Florenza to do the shopping so we could have some privacy. I know I upset you.”
“You don’t have the power to upset me. You mean nothing to me.” She pulled off the ring he’d given her and smacked it onto the nearest surface, then pivoted on her heel to head for the door.
“I learned I was betrayed by a valued employee the morning after you spent the night in my bed. It seemed too coincidental,” he said grittily behind her.
“You don’t have the first clue what betrayal is.” She spun back to charge at him. “Otto felt betrayed when Axel said he wanted to leave so he locked us into an engagement fortwo years, lying to us the whole time about all of it. Aboutme.” She jabbed at her own chest. “Mymotherlied to me about who my father is.Ihave been betrayed, Rocco.Youhave an HR issue. Take it up with them.” She turned away again.
“Otto is not your father? You know that?” he asked sharply behind her.
“Yes, I know that! I’ve seen the paternity test!” Her vision blurred as she spun again. “He could have told metwenty years ago. But he chose to keep the charade going while disparaging everything I said or did or wore or liked. Mymothercould have told me, but she let me believe…”Do not cry.
“I hate him in a way that defies words,” she choked out. “But you think I slept with youforhim?” She hugged herself, hurting all over. “Go to hell, Rocco. Go all the way to the farthest reaches of hell, then crawl a little farther.”
So she knew.
Rocco was still stinging from the vehement way she sentenced him to hell, but he asked gruffly, “Did he tell you who your biological father is?”
“Apparently my mother was a whore. It could be anyone.” Her voice wobbled. “He had affairs, too, but that doesn’t matter,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “He still thinks he’s entitled to punish me for her adultery. I’m so tired of being kicked around.” She moved to pluck a tissue and blow her nose.
Rocco could hardly breathe, his chest was so bloated with fury. At Otto and himself.
He despised making mistakes. That’s why he’d reacted with such quick suspicion when he had thought he’d made a grave one in trusting Mira.
She had been avoiding his gaze and acting prickly when she had emerged from his room. He’d gone on the attack, determined to find out what she was hiding.
He had. She had admitted she knew Otto wasn’t her father, but that victory was very hollow.
She had been withdrawn because she was shy and new to affairs. His pushing her had destroyed her fragile trust in him. She had compared him to Otto, a man who blamed achildfor his wife’s infidelity.
I never understood why he hated me… He could have told me twenty years ago, but he chose to keep the charade going while disparaging everything I said or did or wore or liked.
Over the years, Rocco had been frustrated that Otto had targeted him simply because Rocco’s business partner had had an affair with his wife, but he’d been philosophical about it. In the grand scheme of things, Otto’s acts of spite had been hornets at a picnic—an annoyance and an occasional sting, but he mostly swatted it away.
It had never occurred to him that Otto would have taken out his fury on a child, one who’d been completely innocent and, even worse,ignorantof the reason for his malignant behavior.
“Dio, I want to ruin him,” he muttered as he rubbed his face.
“You can’t tell anyone he’s not my father.” Mira’s hands fell as her expression contorted into alarm. “I can’t deal with that scandal right now.” Her eyes brimmed. “Don’t you have any pity at all? For God’s sake!”
“I won’t tell anyone.” He held up a hand. “Your secret is safe. But we are not finished with him. I have a spy to identify, then we’ll see how he likes being investigated for unfair business practice.”
