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Rocco’s lawyer’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak but Rocco waved him away. ‘You will take it nonetheless or there’s no deal.’
She tossed the papers on the desk. ‘Then there is no deal,’ she stated firmly.
This time it was Rocco’s eyes that widened. ‘You feel so strongly about it?’
‘I don’t want gold-digger added to my list of apparent sins. I earn my own salary and when we’re no longer together I’ll look after my son with my own money. You can keep yours. Those are my terms, Rocco. Take it or leave it.’
His eyes narrowed into slits, his lips a flat line of displeasure. Before he could launch a counterargument, Mia reached across the table, took his fancy fountain pen, and drew a line through the offensive clause. After printing her initials next to it, she carried on reading, aware of the tense silence surrounding her. When she was done, and happy with the custody clause, which was most important to her, she signed the document and set the pen down.
Defiantly she stared at him.
Keen speculation gleamed in his eyes as he slowly reached for the contract. That gaze rested on her for endless minutes before he signed his name next to hers. Once the lawyer had witnessed it, he departed.
‘If that was some ploy to make me think—’
‘I don’t really care what you think, Rocco. Not any more. Gianni’s the only one I care about.’
A shadow crossed his face, a mix of speculation and suspicion. Unwilling to linger and be drawn into another charged argument with him, she left the room, went into the suite she’d slept in last night and gathered her things.
Five hours later—after a fifteen-minute video conference with expert relocators who had miraculously packed up her whole house and assured her her possessions were secure until she needed them—Mia struggled to keep an excited Gianni contained as they arrived at the private strip in North London. She explained to him what was happening as his father held him and, although she wasn’t sure whether he’d fully grasped the unfolding events, he babbled excitedly as he was escorted in his father’s arms up the short flight of stairs int
o the plane.
Once they were airborne, Rocco excused himself and occupied himself with business calls for most of the three-hour journey. He returned to where she sat with Gianni a few minutes before they landed, buckling himself into the seat next to his son.
Then he speared her with dark eyes. ‘Your performance is about to begin, cara, so I suggest you compose yourself and stop shooting those dagger eyes at me.’
She inhaled sharply. ‘My...what performance?’
‘I’ve just been informed that my grandmother’s meeting us at the airstrip. She couldn’t wait to meet her great-grandchild. So prepare yourself.’
That was all the warning she received before she was flung into high drama that made her wish she’d taken another day, week or year to agree to this devil’s bargain with Rocco.
Because it wasn’t just his grandmother—leaning heavily on a walking stick beside the gleaming black limo—who waited for them when they stepped out of the plane.
Allegra Vitelli, Alessandro’s very young, very designer-clad widow stood right beside her, one arm curled around the old woman’s arm in comfort, while the disdainful glare she’d perfectly copied from her husband blazed from the eyes fixed squarely on Mia.
CHAPTER NINE
THE OVERFLOW OF emotion the moment Caterina Vitelli clapped eyes on her great-grandchild left a lump wedged in Mia’s throat for a solid hour. She’d been prepared to defend herself and her child from even the merest hint of censure, direct or implied, but all they’d received since the swift journey from private airstrip to sprawling Palermo villa was unabashed joy, first from Rocco’s nonna, then the household in general. Even the staff displayed wide smiles and open arms at being introduced to Gianni.
Mia’s fingers tightened around the excellent glass of limoncello made with authentic Sicilian lemons they’d been served as part of what was turning out to be a lengthy celebration of welcome for the newest member of the Vitelli family.
For his part, Gianni was lapping up the attention.
A shame Mia couldn’t relax long enough to even take a full breath. As she’d suspected, her child was being absorbed a little too eagerly into the family that had been denied him and was in the process of being spoiled rotten before her very eyes.
No, she had nothing to worry about in that department. But as one hour grew into two, Mia quickly realised she had everything to worry about in the form of the very carefully hidden contempt emanating from Rocco’s cousin-in-law.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Allegra slid into the seat next to Mia. ‘I haven’t had the chance to add my welcome to everyone else’s,’ she said, her voice a sultry just-above-a-whisper murmur that Mia was sure she cultivated just so her companions would lean in to hear her.
She’d witnessed its effect many times when she’d been with Rocco. Not that Allegra needed it. She was the sort of stunning, statuesque beauty that stopped most men in their tracks.
‘I could hardly believe it when Rocco informed us of the news,’ she continued, chocolate-brown eyes sizing Mia up as she took a delicate sip of her sparkling mineral water. ‘In fact, I’m still finding it difficult to wrap my head around it.’
Mia’s spine tensed. ‘I’m sure it all seems surreal to the outsider.’ Hell, she was grappling with the fact that she was back here, in the majestic villa poised on a hillside in Palermo, the place she’d dreamed of spending the rest of her life.
A tight smile curved Allegra’s plump lips. ‘Sì, you’re right. But I’m not an outsider, of course. I, like everyone else, found it immensely distressing that your child’s existence was hidden from us.’
