“I don’t remember you giving advice so much as an ultimatum,” Luca muttered, staring at the door with a frown. The outfit had transformed Allegra. The concierge had chosen a pair of linen pants and a strappy singlet top, and either the shoes had been included or she’d found her own. Either way, she’d lefthis penthouse looking like a beautiful, sophisticated, heaven-sent woman.
“Either way, I’m glad you listened.”
Luca blamed his hangover on the fact it took him a few seconds to join the dots and comprehend the reason for his grandfather’s call.
The photo.
The fact his grandfather’s staff had google alerts set, and would have seen the news as soon as it broke. He was surprised it had taken his grandfather a matter of hours to contact him.
He ground his teeth, biting back the acerbic rejoinder. Not only had he not listened, he intended on ending this marriage as soon as he could.
It was vanilla, he decided. And honey. It reminded him of lazy mornings as a child, by the beach. The water lapping at the shore, the house staff bringing him plates of bread and honey, and salty hard cheese.
He blinked to clear the startling imagery, not wanting to think about his childhood, or Allegra’s distractingly sweet fragrance. He’d noticed it the night before, too, when he’d kissed her at their wedding. It had been her shampoo, he decided.
“Naturally, I will want to meet your bride. She is very beautiful, Luca.”
He drew his focus back to the conversation. “Yes,” he agreed, to the second part of that statement. Allegra was very beautiful. Petite, curvaceous, tanned with enormous blue eyes and pouting pink lips, she was a siren from ancient stories, a vision of a goddess, rather than a woman.
“This weekend?”
“That won’t be possible.”
The old man laughed down the phone. “I suppose even you are entitled to a honeymoon. I’ll give you a week.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his grandfather that in a week’s time, he expected to be well and truly through this diversion. But his grandfather had already taken Luca’s acceptance as a fait accompli. “Let’s meet on the island. I’ll organise a reception for you, to celebrate. It’s been too long since you were at a Di Santis event. You’ve been missed.”
Luca’s eyes shuttered. His grandfather knew why, better than anyone. Despite the difficulties in their relationship, it had been Valentino Di Santis who’d helped Luca put the pieces of his life back together. At least, as best as he was able. It had been Valentino who’d refused to let Luca fall completely into a pit of despair, who’d forced him to shower and shave, and go through the motions of a life when he otherwise might have forgotten how. It was his grandfather who’d pushed him into running the company, knowing that the challenge of business would be a lifeline in his darkest of days.
Grief had enveloped him, but Valentino had made sure he could still breathe.
“And I am not the only one who wants to meet your bride. Already there have been calls, asking about her.”
Luca swallowed a curse. “Valentino, stop.” Even as a boy, Luca had used his grandfather’s first name, rather than a more affectionate title. “Do not organise a reception.”
“Of course I will. And at it, my boy, we will announce the news.”
“What news?” he asked, sceptically.
“Thatfinalmente, the company has become yours. Your birthright, Luca. With this marriage, you have shown me, finally, that you are ready. That you are a man in the world again. With this marriage, you have shown me that you have come back.”
Luca spent aboutthree minutes staring down at the already bustling Strip before dragging clothes on and leaving. The city that never sleeps also didn’t seem to obey the accepted rules of decency. Though the people below him were just tiny dots, he knew, from experience, that there’d be a mix of revellers already—celebrating weddings, bucks parties, hens days, birthdays, divorces. You name it, Vegas catered to it. Champagne and beers would be flowing, as well as money in slot machines. This was a city without restraint.
It was why he’d come here, wasn’t it?
Because he wanted to feel unrestrained. He wanted to get drunk and forget that four years ago, he’d given a command that had killed his best friend. He’d wanted to forget the promise he’d given Marco’s mother and sister, that he would look after him, had been a fool’s errand. A gift he never should have offered; for it was impossible to provide.
Luca should have known better.
But he’d tried.
He’d done everything he could to look after his childhood best friend—more like a brother to him than anything else. Bitterness flooded his body, along with regret and remorse. An earnest wish that he had gone in Marco’s place. He would have done anything for it to have been him, and not Marco. Marco who was relied on, depended on by his family. Of course, Luca had done everything he could to care for them financially, but there was no filling the void left by Marco. Particularly not by Luca, who was broken in so many ways, he could never hope to clog that hole.
There was one thing though that meant almost as much to him as his guilt and grief. One thing he’d sworn he would work towards, from when he was a little boy and learned the secret of his parentage.
The family company would be his. Not his cousins’, not his half-brother’s, but Luca’s. They’d existed in a bitter competition for control for a long time, but Luca had emerged victorious, with his temporary appointment as CEO. Valentino had continued to hold doubt over his head, though. Making sure Luca knew he had given him the role and could easily take it away.
Now he was being offered what he wanted most on a silver platter—if he brought Allegra home as his bride.
