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His wry, twisted smile suggested he found her comment amusing. ‘We’re affiliated with several fashion houses. The HR department will ensure they’re made available to you when you’ve filled out the appropriate forms.’
She tensed. ‘What forms?’
Hooded eyes fixed more tightly on her. ‘The usual employment forms. That will suffice.’
Faye forced herself to breathe out slowly. ‘Is that necessary?’
Maceo’s eyes narrowed. ‘You must be aware how suspicious that sounds? How large are the skeletons in your closet, Miss Bishop?’
‘How large are yours?’ she threw back. ‘You’re the one insisting on this unnecessary assessment before you give me what’s legally mine. I won’t bare my life to you just so you feel better about doing whatever it is you’re doing.’
He remained completely unfazed, leaning forward until the wide breadth of his shoulders filled her vision. ‘You will give me your word that nothing in your background will embarrass me or my company.’
Ice engulfed her whole body, trapping her in her seat when all she wanted to do was jump up and flee those piercing eyes intent on digging beneath her skin. On baring the dark secrets she’d been forced to live with from birth.
‘The only promise I’ll make you is that I’m committed and hard-working. You have no right to make any other demands of me. Take it or leave it. But be warned: I won’t simply disappear until you decide to honour Luigi and Carlotta’s wishes.’
It was a wild bluff and she held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t call her on it. He was the billionaire CEO of a staggeringly successful company, with all the clout and power that came with the position. She knew his legal team would chew her up and spit her out without so much as breaking a sweat should Maceo lift that haughty eyebrow to indicate they should do so.
Something hard and seasoned flickered in his gaze, making him appear much older than he was. As if he’d lived lifetimes and possessed harrowing tales to tell. Would those tales have anything to do with why he’d married Carlotta? Or explain that rabid mob of paparazzi downstairs?
Far from retreating from the frenzied curiosity eating her alive, Faye wanted to know more about this man. Wanted to unearth his every secret. Which was a dangerous state to inhabit when she had such deep, dark secrets of her own.
‘I don’t respond to threats, Miss Bishop,’ he said, his words deceptively soft but effectively grounding her.
‘I’m simply stating the truth, signor.’
‘I’ve discovered “the truth” means different things to different people. I’m certain I’ll find out your true mettle in the next six months.’
She gasped. ‘Six months? I can’t... You can’t force me to stay here that long.’
That eyebrow elevated, spelling out just how inconsequential he found her protest. ‘I’m not forcing you to do anything,’ he returned, far too smoothly. ‘You’re hardly my prisoner. Feel free to execute another dramatic exit, since you seem to specialise in those.’
‘Three,’ she blurted. ‘I’ll give you three months.’
‘Four,’ he countered immediately, his eyes gleaming with cut-throat anticipation. ‘And I want your agreement that your connection to Luigi will only be divulged at my discretion.’
Four months of sacrifice in return for the ability to help thousands who needed it? With clever investment, the money from Luigi’s bequest could stretch for years, perhaps decades. And, even while a large part of her remained horrified, and daunted by the thought of spending time under Maceo Fiorenti’s laser eyes and dark suspicion, another part of her, emotionally centred on that bruising rejection all these years later, urged her to seize the opportunity.
Staying in Italy might reveal the truth once and for all—that Luigi had turned his back on her because of the stain of her birth that he hadn’t been able to overlook. As much as it hurt to admit it, Matt had resurrected ghosts she needed to confront and, if not lay to rest, at least learn to cohabit with.
‘Agreed. Four months and my...co-operation,’ she accepted heavily.
His triumphant expression almost made her take it back. But he was already moving on. ‘And at the end of it, you’ll sell your share to me.’
‘Or explore all my options and decide what’s best for me.’
Burnished eyes held her in place. ‘Selling it to me will be best, I assure you. No one else will give you the value I can.’
Why those words sent hot slivers of awareness through her, Faye refused to examine.
‘Are we done here?’ she asked, in a breathless rush she hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Tawny eyes flickered, resting on her in a way that suggested he knew every thought racing through her head.
‘One last thing. For the duration of your stay you’ll reside at my villa in Capri. That way we won’t have to have any tiresome debate about your room and board.’
The sensation of a silken net tightening around her made Faye shift in her seat. But there was no escaping his ferocious regard.
