Page 41 of The Billionaire's Destiny

“My father’s on the video? What do you mean?”

“Nico interrupted the recording, and it happened before our dinner.”

His eyes widened. “My father was at Luca’s? Tell me everything.”

“I don’t—I mean, it was something that happened in the early part of your parents’ marriage.” I wrung my hands.

“Damn it, Adelina. Just tell me. This is your chance to do right by me,” he hissed, and his annoyance punctuated his harsh tone. I knew keeping anything from him now could risk us never healing again.

I closed my eyes. “Nico talked about…an affair he had early in the marriage. It was after you were born, with an actress on set.”

“No way,” Rocco said, shaking his head. “There’s no way my father would ever do that to my mom. He adores her. Dotes on her…” His voice lost steam, and it was clear his doubt had resolved. “Fuck me…Dad’s been desperate to get something from you.”

“Luca mentioned to him that he was making a video for me. I’m sorry, Rocco,” I said, meaning it so much more than just the sad news. Olivia and Nico had seemed very much in love when I first met them. However, he had seemed annoyed during the will reading. His hostility toward me was probably partly due to this video.No, he didn’t like me from the start. He didn’t want an arranged marriage for his son.

“Grandpa told me in his way, but I wanted to believe my father was better than that.” He rubbed his temples. “My mom’s one of the strongest, most loving people I’ve ever known. She’s also one of the smartest. She knows about it, even if they never said a word.”

“You think so?” I muttered.

He nodded. “I do. Mom must have forgiven him and did what she always does: she put our family first. I can’t imagine the pain she must have gone through, and I know she’d never want me to know that. I think that’s what my father wanted more than anything: to protect her.”

I reached my hand out but let it drop on the seat. Rocco didn’t attempt to take it.

“I’m okay. I’m confident Grandpa put a stop to it. My dad’s…grown up a lot. Still growing. Anyway, Gunnar and I will look at it alone ourselves first, and then my parents. Mom deserves discretion. Thank you.” His focus returned to the phone, and he scrolled and pressed a number. “Hello. Yeah. It’s me…”

I turned my head and placed it on the cool windowpane as Rocco made more plans.

Some without me.

Buzz. My phone sounded. It was a text from Isla.

Isla: Dr. Vitale will call you after you arrive in Milan.

Of course, Rocco told her all about it. There was never even a minute of privacy.

“Who was that?” Rocco asked.

“Isla. She told me Dr. Vitale will call me.”

“I’ll call her back,” he said.

I frowned. “You don’t need to. I can—”

However, Rocco didn’t wait or tell me he wouldn’t. He walked over to the pilot and started speaking with him. I walked over to the stairs to the plane and had only passed them when he called to my back, “Go to the bedroom and rest.”

I clenched my jaw. Out of sight, out of mind? There was no time to argue; the press could be lurking. I hurried onto theplane, not stopping until I reached the back bedroom. Rest was impossible after everything that had happened.

Once we were airborne, I curled on my side, eyes fixed on the door, hoping Rocco would come but dreading it at the same time. The change in him was stark: his voice hesitant, his touch absent. Marjorie’s words from Cannes echoed in my mind:Rocco can leave you mighty cold in his shade.I felt that chill now, loneliness seeping in. Sleep was out of the question, so I tried to lose myself in a thriller, flipping through chapters before giving up. My stomach rumbled. Was I really hungry, or was it nerves?Could I actually be pregnant? I lifted my shirt and gently rubbed my belly.Hey, Baby Marini. Are you in there?

A sound near the door had me turning my head. It was Rocco. He placed his arm along the doorpost, his profile dazzling. He still made me feel like a teen with my first crush. I wanted to play it cool under his steady gaze, but it was impossible. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and I could see the hurt there, and my guilt and self-loathing made me want to hide.

“I was just, uhm…” I mumbled.

His eyes lowered to my hands, which were still on my abdomen, amplifying the elephant in the room. Our possible baby.That he doesn’t want…

His expression turned blank, and I quickly moved my hand away, averted my eyes, and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Yeah, you keep saying.” He sighed heavily. “I understand why you did it—”