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‘Why are you telling me this now?’ Rafaele demanded, suddenly angry that his father was bringing this up.
‘Because I can see the fear in you, Rafaele. I know that it’s driven you to become successful, to build Falcone Industries from the ground up again. But you don’t have to be afraid. You’re not like me. You’re far stronger than I ever was. And you won’t do to Milo what I did to you. He will never see you weak and humiliated.’
Rafaele felt dizzy now, because he knew that he did have the capacity to repeat exactly what his father had done. He’d almost done it the other evening, albeit not in front of his son. Thank God.
Umberto wasn’t finished, though. ‘Don’t let fear ruin your chance of happiness, Rafaele. I lived with bitterness for a long time and it makes a cold bedfellow. You have proved yourself. You will never be destitute... Don’t be afraid to want more.’
Rafaele saw his father then, slightly hunched, his face lined with a sadness he’d never truly appreciated before.
‘I’m not afraid,’ he said, half defiantly. But he knew it was a lie. He realised he was terrified.
* * *
‘Come on, you, it’s time for bed.’
‘No. Don’t want to go to bed.’
Sam sighed. Milo had been acting up ever since they’d got home, and every single day he asked for Rafaele.
‘Where’s my daddy? When is he coming back in the car? Why can’t we have a car? Where is Grandpapa?’
Sam shared a look with Bridie, who was helping to clear up Milo’s things, just as the doorbell rang. They looked at each other and immediately Milo ran for the door, shrieking, ‘Daddy, Daddy!’
Sam went after him, her heart twisting. ‘Milo, it won’t be him...’
She pulled him back from the door and opened it, fully expecting to see just a neighbour or a door-to-door religious tout. But it wasn’t either of those.
‘Daddy!’ Milo’s small clear voice declared exactly who it was.
He was jumping up and down, endearingly still too shy to throw himself at the man who had only so recently come into his life. But when Rafaele bent down and opened his arms Milo ran straight into them and Sam’s heart squeezed so tight it hurt. She heard Bridie behind her exclaim and usher Rafaele in.
Sam could see that he was holding something in his hand, and when he put Milo down he handed it to him. It was a mechanical car.
Milo seized it with inelegant haste. ‘Wow!’
Sam chided him automatically through a fog of shock. ‘Milo, what do you say?’
‘Thank you!’
Sam was so tense she could crack. She avoided looking at Rafaele, dreading seeing that ice-cold green again.
Bridie was taking Milo by the hand and saying, ‘Come on, you promised you’d help me to find my spectacles in my flat earlier—’
Milo started protesting, and Sam felt like doing the same, but Bridie had lifted Milo up and was quelling his protests by promising him a DVD. And then they were gone before Sam could get a word out, and she was alone in the hall with Rafaele.
She still hadn’t really looked him in the eye as he reached out and pushed the front door closed. Finally she looked at him and her eyes widened. He looked terrible. Well, as terrible as a gorgeous Italian alpha male could look—which was not terrible at all. But Rafaele looked tired, drawn, pale. Older. Somehow diminished.
Immediately Sam was concerned and said, ‘What is it? Your father?’
Rafaele shook his head. ‘No, it’s not my father. He is fine. Asking after you all.’
‘Well...what is it, then? You look...’ As bad as I feel.
Rafaele smiled, but it was tight, and then it faded again and he’d never looked more serious.
Sam crossed her arms and started babbling out of nervousness. ‘Are you here ahead of your team of lawyers? Because if you are you could have saved yourself the bother, Rafaele...’
He shook his head and looked pained. For an awful moment Sam thought there might be something wrong with him and she felt weak.
