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After three years with the man she thought to be the love of her life, it took Bianca less than an hour to pack a suitcase and walk out of their marriage. Only she didn’t have a clue how she’d ever learn to live without him.
CHAPTER TWO
Ten months later
Niko absentmindedly ran his finger over his wife’s signature on the last page of their divorce documents. Her signature was just like her. Confident, bold, and with beautiful lines. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He was the one who’d asked for the divorce, after all. When he’d returned to their townhouse the morning after their argument, he’d found her gone, and it was almost as if she’d disappeared off the face of the earth. Oh, he knew where she worked, of course, but he was damned if he was going to make a fool of himself over her again. Her cell number had changed, and he had no clue where she lived. Or who with.
He had known this moment was coming. His lawyer had informed him that Bianca had hired a top tier firm to represent her. Niko had taken the news as a devastating blow. Not because it showed she intended to go through with the break-up of their marriage, but because he presumed it meant she intended to make a significant claim on his estate. He had more than enough money to go around, after all.
Only she hadn’t.
When the papers had arrived that day, he’d seen that the asset lists were to be kept exactly as they were on the formation of their union. She’d asked for nothing, except the gifts he’d given her during their marriage. Niko couldn’t have described how that made him feel. Relieved that she was so reasonable about the whole affair? Or was it a sign that she simply wanted matters resolved as swiftly as possible, and was willing to forego any interest in a billion pound fortune?
He lifted the pen with a groan and pressed it into the paper, then threw it across the table, disgusted by his weakness. There was no way he could be with someone who had gone behind his back and slept with another man, if not men. So why the hell couldn’t he finish it once and for all? One possibility occurred to him, but it wasn’t especially flattering.
Revenge.
He had to make her pay.
The phone ringing on his desk didn’t help his mood. He’d asked his Executive Assistant to hold his calls, so why was he being interrupted? Lifting the phone roughly, he saw it was his fifth line that was buzzing. His private line.
“Casacelli,” he barked into the receiver, in no frame of mind even to speak to his brothers. Silence greeted him and he tightened his grip, until his knuckles were white. “Hello?” He repeated tersely, already preparing to replace the phone into the cradle.
“Niko.” He’d know that breathy voice, still tinged with an Australian accent, anywhere.
He glowered down at the divorce documents, wondering if he’d somehow conjured his soon-to-be-ex-wife out of thin air.
“Yes, who’s this?” He ground out through gritted teeth, not willing to let Bianca know how much she still played on his mind.
A pause, and he could see her perfectly. The way her pale face would be pinched with nerves, her blonde hair shaped like a perfect bell around her shoulders. Her nose, a sweet little ski jump peppered with a few small freckles would be creased as she tried to formulate the right words. And despite the fact he hated her passionately, he felt a stirring of arousal as his body remembered what hers felt like, from the inside out.
“It’s me. Bianca.”
“My unfaithful spouse,” he said caustically. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”
Another pause, this one so long it stretched and pulled at him and made him want to shake the phone.
“Forget about it,” she said finally, and he could hear from the way her voice cracked that she was sad, or nervous, or something. He steeled himself not to care. “It was a stupid idea.”
“Not your first, and probably not your last.”
Her sob surprised him, though. She was not given to emotionalism, and for the briefest of moments, he felt a sharp stab of compunction in his gut for being such a bastard. But only for a moment. The picture of her with Simon was forever burned into his brain, and at the first sign of feeling an emotional softening towards her, he conjured it like mental armor.
“Forget I called.”
She was going to hang up. Panic tore threw him, coming out of nowhere, and surprising him with its intensity.
“Wait,” he commanded imperiously, knowing full well that she would. People always obeyed when he commanded. He was Niko Casacelli and his authority was absolute.
“What is it?” Her voice was bleak. He wondered if she was holding the phone as tightly as he was. If her fingers were tingling, like his, with a physical desire to touch and feel, after so long an absence.
“You did call, Bianca, and I’m not going to easily forget it. I was in the middle of something important. As you’ve seen fit to interrupt my work, using the private number you long ago gave up a right to use, you will tell me why.”
Her breath was shallow, fast. “I … I can’t believe I’m asking you this.” She was quiet for a moment. “I need a favor.”
Niko’s laugh was without humor. “From me?”
“Yes,” she muttered, and he knew she’d be blushing.
