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‘I can take it or leave it.’
‘And the R&D team? Can you take or leave them too?’
‘What is this, Maceo? You’ve gone from warning me against even breathing in your presence to outright socialising with me?’
Maceo ignored her scepticism. If he was to get her onside to claim that share, he needed to tread carefully. ‘Ask me what you want to know about Luigi,’ he invited, giving up on making small talk he didn’t care about.
The glass trembled in her hand. She tightened her fingers, lowered her head. ‘Did...did he ever mention me?’
Maceo shook his head. ‘I didn’t know you existed until a few weeks ago.’ The revelation still grated—badly. So many secrets...
Hurt darted across her face and he watched her slowly stroll over to the sofa. She sat down, looking a little lost as she stared into her glass.
‘I suppose that means he never mentioned my mother either?’ she asked.
Despite her efforts to conceal it, he heard wariness in her tone, saw the way she avoided his gaze.
His hackles rose. ‘No, he didn’t. Neither did my parents.’
Certainly they had never told him the full story. A story with layers he might never uncover now everyone involved had perished.
He couldn’t keep the bitterness from merging with the guilt that churned through his stomach. He’d pushed for transparency and all he’d been left with were ashes and a life of desolation. Because how could he dare to grasp for anything resembling contentment when he’d deprived his own parents of theirs? When each time he looked in the mirror he experienced the guilt of being alive?
‘If it’s any consolation, I was kept equally in the dark for most of my life. And I detest secrets.’
The last declaration was to gauge her reaction. Sure enough, her gaze shifted away from his.
‘Some secrets are better off staying in the dark,’ she murmured, so softly he wondered if she’d realised she’d spoken aloud.
He laughed, the sound dark and hollow even to his own ears. ‘Only those who seek to justify their subterfuge believe that.’
Her eyes reconnected with his
and he was disconcerted by the dark turbulence swirling within. ‘Not everything is black and white, Maceo. Some things are out of your control. Some secrets have the power to rip families apart.’
Dio, he knew that too well!
‘Only if you let them fester. Cut out the rot and what is left will be enough.’
Long moments ticked by before she glanced away. ‘When did Luigi and Carlotta meet?’ she asked, returning to the subject she seemed obsessed with.
More and more Maceo was convinced that whatever she was hiding was embedded in her past with Luigi.
‘They met when she joined the company. According to those who were around, it was so-called “love at first sight”.’
Her lips twisted, and Maceo wanted to applaud her for not attempting to conceal her reaction with inane statements.
‘Am I a bad person if I say I wish they hadn’t met?’ she asked in a hushed voice. One that reluctantly touched him.
‘No.’
She started at his unexpected answer. Then ploughed ahead. ‘He was the only father I’d ever known.’
‘And he turned his back on you. Do you intend to hate him for ever?’
Again, she didn’t rush to deny the emotion, and the raw pulse of her anguish touched something dead inside him, threatened to rouse it.
‘Maybe not. But he left us before he met Carlotta, and I hate not knowing why.’
