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Claudia picked up her drink and took a sip, thinking about their approaching visit to the hospital. The bicerin was a Turinese speciality, a sublime creation of rich hot chocolate, espresso and whipped cream, carefully poured in layers into a glass. It was very rich and strong, and she had never tasted anything like it anywhere else.
Suddenly the coffee and chocolate mixture was too rich and strong for her.
‘I’m sorry,’ Claudia said, pushing the scarcely touched drink away from her and taking a sip of the water instead. ‘I already had hot chocolate—I shouldn’t have ordered anything else.’
Marco shrugged. Despite being a speciality of his home town, the bicerin wasn’t to his taste—a double espresso was more his style. He’d been distracted when he’d ordered, thinking about the excellent report his legal team had given him.
Everything was in place now for him to take Vasile down. One phone call to the police was all it would take for Vasile and Francesca to be taken away for good.
But he wanted more than that. He wanted to be there when Vasile’s world fell apart—to let him know that it was he, Marco De Luca, who had totally annihilated him, destroying everything he cared about in the process.
‘Shall we go?’ Marco tossed more than enough euros on to the table to cover their bill.
Claudia nodded and rose to her feet, looking pale and nervous. He realised she really was anxious about visiting her father. A strangely protective feeling ran through him, but he pushed it aside. He would not let her vulnerability blind him to what she was really like. He knew what she’d done in the past. And he knew what she was planning to do any day now—marry a man old enough to be her father, just to get her hands on her trust fund a few years early.
Marco stood up and followed her out of the café.
‘He looked a lot better today,’ Claudia said as she and Marco walked away from the hospital.
In fact she’d been surprised by just how well her father had seemed, compared to her last visit when he’d scarcely recognised her. It was a long time since he’d been able to sit up and talk to her properly. But he’d grown tired quickly, making her worried that he might overdo it. So, although she’d been reluctant to leave, once Marco had spoken to his doctors, they’d left him to rest.
‘He is better,’ Marco said. ‘The last few times you saw him, he was suffering from a secondary infection that was resisting the doctors’ best efforts to treat it. But now they’ve finally found the right balance of medication. Your father is responding well and the infection is on its way to being cleared up.’
‘I don’t understand.’ She paused and turned to look at Marco. ‘Francesca never mentioned anything about that.’
‘Claudia, somehow you have been given the wrong impression,’ Marco said. He stopped walking and turned to face her. ‘Your father’s condition is not terminal. It is serious and his recovery will take a while—but there is no reason to expect him not to get better.’
‘But…how?’ She stumbled for words, finding it hard to comprehend what Marco was telling her.
‘I don’t know how the misunderstanding came about,’ he said. ‘But your father is not dying.’
Claudia stared at Marco in utter shock. Her father was not dying. Her father was not dying!
A bubble of joy started rising up through her body but she pressed her teeth into her lower lip, almost afraid to smile. She drew in a long shaky breath. Was it really true?
‘Are you sure?’ she asked Marco tremulously. ‘Are they sure—the doctors, I mean?’
‘It’s true,’ Marco said. ‘The doctors are completely sure. There has never been any question that his condition was terminal.’
A massive smile broke across Claudia’s face and she felt a burst of happiness swelling inside her. It was as if a colossal weight that had been relentlessly dragging her down from inside her soul had been lifted off her—her father was not dying. Everything was going to be all right.
‘I can’t believe it!’ she gasped, throwing her arms instinctively around Marco. ‘Oh, thank you. Thank you so much for telling me!’
‘You’re welcome,’ Marco said, automatically returning her embrace. ‘I’m pleased that he is not so ill as you thought.’
His words sounded stiff and formal to his own ears, but they were soon engulfed in her happiness. The positive emotion that she was radiating was almost tangible—like a real physical thing that was emanating from her and wrapping around them both as she clung to him in her relief. She was glowing so warm and bright that for a moment he actually felt her happiness penetrating his heart too.
It was a disconcerting feeling. But then he suddenly felt a shudder run through her body.
He held her away from him, instinctively looking into her face, and saw that her eyes were sparkling with tears of happiness and relief.
‘You don’t have to worry about him any more,’ he said, brushing his thumb gently across her cheek.
‘I can hardly believe it,’ she whispered. ‘It feels so good.’
Marco smiled at her. It was a totally natural response to her joyous emotion—he felt happy on her behalf.
But why had Claudia believed her father was dying when it wasn’t true? Her tears in Wales had certainly seemed genuine.
