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‘They separated—’ she frowned, trying to remember ‘—I read something in the paper.’
‘But now they are back together and stronger than ever. They have a daughter, Elena, who is the same age as Dani’s Rosa, and an older daughter, Chiara, who they adopted a year ago.’ He switched off the engine. ‘So you see, Luca’s family is expanding by the minute.’
‘I read that they were getting a divorce.’
‘Not any more.’ He gave a gentle smile and released her seat belt. ‘As I said, angelo mia, once a Ferrara wife, always a Ferrara wife. Remember that.’
* * *
She got through the wedding ceremony by telling herself that she was marrying for love. Not love for Santo, but love for her son. And any doubts she might have had were swept away by the sight of Luca being welcomed into the big, noisy Ferrara family. He thrived on the attention, adored playing with his cousins and wouldn’t let his father out of his sight. And Fia couldn’t help but warm to Santo’s mother, who embraced her tightly as she welcomed her to the family. They never held anything back, she thought. They didn’t ration love. They weren’t afraid that too much was a bad thing.
The media, tired of the endless gloom of economic disaster, greedily devoured a happy story. Thanks to the few choice details fed to them by the Ferrara publicity machine, they’d pieced together a romantic tale that bore no resemblance to reality. According to the press, their relationship had been conducted in secret because of the long-standing feud between their families, but now it was out in the open and the headlines read ‘Love conquers all’.
But perhaps the press were most charmed by the sight of her grandfather and Cristiano Ferrara shaking hands and talking together at length, finally putting an end to hostilities.
‘I’m worried this is all too much for you, Nonno.’ The tension a constant knot in her stomach, Fia sat down on the chair next to her grandfather. ‘You should still be convalescing.’
‘Don’t fuss. Ferrara has half the hospital standing guard,’ her grandfather grumbled. ‘What can happen?’
But she could tell he was impressed by the care and attention Santo had paid to him and if her insides hadn’t been churning so alarmingly at the thought of what was coming, she would have been grateful, too. As it was, she stole a glance at the handsome man who was now her husband and felt a flicker of trepidation. It was all very well for him to say that marriage was for ever but, apart from the moment they’d exchanged vows, he hadn’t looked at her. Not once. It was as if he were trying to postpone the moment he had to confront reality. What would happen when the guests finally left and they were alone? Would there be stilted conversation? Would he suggest an early night?
Her grandfather gave a rare smile. ‘Look at Luca. Now that’s how a boy should play.’
Fia looked and saw her son shrieking with laughter as his father held him upside down by his ankles. She felt a lurch of anxiety.
‘I hope he doesn’t drop him on the terrace.’
Her grandfather gave her an impatient look. ‘You fuss him to death.’
Did she fuss him to death? She’d tried so hard to make sure Luca knew he was loved. Had she overdone that?
‘I just want him to be happy.’
‘And what about you? Are you happy?’ It was the first time her grandfather had ever asked her that question and she didn’t know how to answer.
She should have been happy that Luca now had his father in his life and that the long-running feud between their two families had finally been put to rest.
But how happy could a marriage be when the only love involved was for a child?
Her father had made no secret of his resentment towards his children. He’d married because of pressure from his father—her grandfather—and four lives had been damaged as a result of his innate selfishness.
But Santo was nothing like her father, she reasoned. It was obvious that he felt nothing but unconditional love for his son and already Luca was being enveloped in the warm, protective blanket of the Ferrara family.
‘I’m giving him the land as a wedding gift.’ Her grandfather scowled at her. ‘Satisfied?’
She gave a weak smile. ‘Yes. Thank you.’
He hesitated and then squeezed her hand in an almost unprecedented show of affection. ‘You did the right thing. Eventually.’
The right thing for Luca, yes. But for her?
She was less convinced.
Eventually the guests started to drift away. Her grandfather, tired but less grumpy than she’d seen him in a long time, was ushered away by concerned health staff and only a few close family remained.
Feeling alone in the crowd of Ferraras, Fia paced restlessly to the far side of the terrace where they had gathered to ‘celebrate’.
‘Here—’ Dani thrust a glass of champagne into her hand ‘—you look as though you need it. Welcome to the family. You look stunning. That dress is perfect, if I say so myself.’ She clinked her glass against Fia’s. ‘To your future, which is going to be good, despite what you’re thinking right now this minute.’
