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A shock rippled through his body.
Tess?
??s picture was on the monitor. He hadn’t expected to see her. He’d spent the last month trying not to think about her, or think at all. Since she’d abandoned him so brutally, their only connection had been through his New York lawyers, working out a custody agreement for Esme. He’d tried to arrange for Tess to receive a generous monthly stipend, not required by their prenuptial agreement. To Stefano’s shock, Tess had refused it.
Even his money, it seemed, was no longer good enough.
Tightening his jaw, he glared at Fenella on the other side of her desk. “Why are you showing me a picture of my wife?”
“Didn’t you read it?”
Stefano looked closer at the screen. It was an online article from a New York newspaper.
It seemed he hadn’t been the only one who’d been busy this past month. Since she’d returned to New York, Tess had already begun her own small fashion studio. Tonight, according to the article, she’d be hosting a charity runway show for her first capsule collection at the Campania Hotel.
Stefano looked back at the picture of Tess. His heart lifted to his throat. She was sitting at a bright green desk in a colorful bohemian office, with their sweet baby daughter playing nearby on a fluffy white rug covered with baby toys. Tess’s beautiful face beamed up at him, her red hair tumbling down her shoulders, her emerald eyes warm. So much light and color. She’d done it even without his help. She’d followed her dreams, on her own terms. He was proud of her, so proud.
Tess had never really needed him, he realized. She’d always had the strength to pursue her dream of being a fashion designer. Why had she ever been willing to accept less?
Because of him.
I don’t want to be your employee. Only your wife. I wanted so badly for you to love me, Stefano. I would have given everything—my heart, my soul—to make it come true.
But he couldn’t love her. So she’d left him. She’d started her own small business. A company with integrity. With heart.
Just like Tess.
She was better off without him.
Stefano was filled with grief he hadn’t felt for a long, long time.
Without looking up, he said in a low voice, “Why did you show me this?”
“This is really why I invited you,” Fenella said. “Not because of Aiko Sakurai—at least, not only because of her.” Her cool eyes met his. “But because your wife has left you.”
Stefano looked up sharply. “So?”
“That makes you interesting.”
“How?” His lips twisted bitterly. “You sense weakness?”
“I sense strength.” Tilting her head, Fenella said, “The possibility of a partnership.”
Partnership. At the word, Stefano felt overwhelmed with memories of the partnership he’d had with his wife. The two of them laughing, talking, making love. Supporting each other. Caring for their baby. Pain went through his heart.
“What are you talking about?”
Leaning forward, she said coolly, “We have an opportunity.”
“You’re finally willing to negotiate for Zacco?” he said, leaning back in his chair so he didn’t gag on the overwhelming floral smell of her perfume.
“Now that your unfortunate wife is gone—”
“Don’t call her that—”
“You should replace her. With someone more appropriate.”
Fenella’s cold blue eyes met his, and he knew exactly whom she was suggesting.
