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She did not darken her fair lashes with mascara, for though she did not cry easily—in fact, she could not remember when she last had—Mia did not want to chance it. Her hair she wore up in a simple chignon and she wore no jewellery other than her wedding and engagement rings, both of which would be coming off tonight.
It was almost eleven and, though reluctant to leave the warmth of her suite, she picked up the orchid she had collected on her ride this morning and stepped out.
Mia looked down to the foyer below and the family gathered there, all dressed in black. She could hear the sound of low funereal voices.
Thankfully, there was no sign of Angela, who had vowed never to set foot in the house while‘this tramp’was here. Though Mia was rather certain that Angela would make an exception for the reading of the will!
Mia was less than impressed with Angela, though of course she had kept her opinions to herself. The fact was that it was Angela who had wanted all this, yetlovedthe role of victim and, to Mia’s mind, played it a little too well.
Dante turned as she made her way down the stairs, and stood watching her approach.
He even announced it in English!
‘Ah, here is my stepmother now.’
Dante heard the cruel ring to his tone and did nothing to temper it, for his loathing of Mia was his final defence. He had to constantly remind himself of the destruction she had caused to his family. As well as that, he had to retell himself over and over that his father’s wife was, and would remain for ever, out of bounds.
Her blue eyes, for the very first time, shot him an angry look. It was a mere flash of her building temper, for Rafael’s death had released her from the role she had played for the last two years. But then she reminded herself there was still this day to get through.
Just a few hours until she was free.
Ariana very deliberately turned her back on Mia, and Dante saw it.
Worryingly for Dante, he felt for Mia as she stood in the foyer so pale and alone.
He did not want to care about her.
He could not allow himself to care about her.
And so he reminded himself just how much he despised her as he suggested they all head out to the cars.
The funeral of Rafael Romano was to be a huge affair.
The Romano hotel was full, not just with guests who had flown from afar to attend but also with the press, though they were kept back from the very private residence.
Mia walked down the stone steps, doing all she could not to look at the hearse. She saw the door in the vehicle behind it being held open for her and she wanted to turn and run back into the house. She actually thought about doing just that for a fleeting second, but of course knew she could not.
Dante was at the vehicle behind where his siblings were getting in, but he looked over and saw Mia stiffen, noticing how timidly she climbed in.
Despite what he had said last night, the fact that she travelled alone was a clear slur, and everyone knew it. Mia sitting up front and alone made her evenlessthan an outcast, for it signalled to all that she had never been part of the theatre of his family.
They hadn’t given her a chance.
Dante had no doubt that Mia Hamilton was in it for the money, but what if there had been some measure of love between her and his father?
The flash of tears in her eyes that he had witnessed last night was still capable of moving him, and the strain in her voice when she had said she did not want to be in the car on her own played again in his mind.
‘I’m going to go and sit with Mia,’ Dante said to the twins and Eloa.
‘Oh, please,’ Ariana sneered. ‘Why on earth would you do that?’
But Dante didn’t answer. Instead, he left the car and walked towards the one in which Mia sat.
It was cool this morning and when the car door opened, a gust of wind burst in; Mia looked over and jumped when she saw it was Dante.
‘Have I done something wrong?’
‘No.’ He got in beside her. ‘I am sure we can manage a more united front on this sombre day.’
