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A person.
A whole other person for whom he would be responsible, as if his damned family wasn’t already enough.
He would be stuck co-parenting with Mia in London, because the thought that they might parent together never even entered his head. The one thing he avoided was relationships, even if for a brief moment he had considered the possibility of one with her.
That had been before her bombshell, though.
It felt exactly that—like a bomb had exploded in his brain.
At six, just as morning coffee was delivered, his phone buzzed, and when he saw that it was Sarah he took the call.
As she spoke, Dante glanced at the adjoining door as Sarah told him that photographs of himself and Mia had been taken last night in the occasional garden and were being sold.
‘Do you know who took them?’ Dante asked.
‘Not at this stage.’ Sarah said. ‘Of course, it might have been a set-up. Mia might—’
Sarah was brilliant at her job and possibly as suspicious by nature as he. Of course he would expect his PA, who liaised with his PR people, to consider that Mia might have set him up, yet Dante had to draw a shaking breath in as he fought not to reprimand her.
‘It was not a set-up,’ Dante said. ‘I took Mia out to the garden.’
‘Of course, but—’
‘Drop it,’ Dante said, and quickly realised it didn’t matter who had taken the pictures. What mattered was the explosion of interest that would take place the moment the images got out.
He gave rapid orders to Sarah, but when the call ended Dante knew, even as his legal team were being woken, there was no hope of the images being shut down. He made some rapid decisions, before taking a breath, unlocking his adjoining door, and knocking on hers.
‘Mia!’ There was no answer and after a couple more knocks he pushed down the lever and found himself back in her lounge. It was somewhat chaotic with the remnants from their lovemaking scattered about. There were roses strewn on the floor and he saw a crumpled sheet of paper and rescued it, reading her pained drafts of telling him about the baby.
Dante, I don’t know how to tell you this....
Dante, there was a problem after I took the pills...
Dante...
And now he had to tell her this. He made his way to the bedroom and knocked on that door.
‘Mia?’
The door opened immediately as his knock on the adjoining door had woken her, and Mia had pulled on a robe and had been about to head out of the bedroom when he had knocked again. ‘Is it time for round two?’ she asked.
‘I’m not here to argue. I want you to pack up your things and get dressed—’
‘Don’t worry, Dante, I’m leaving.’
‘Do you really think I would wake you up to kick you out? Mia, we need to leave now, together. I am taking you back to Luctano where I can control things better. There were photos of us taken last night in the garden. Compromising photos...’ He saw the colour drain from her face.
‘No!’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you seen them?’ she asked.
‘No, though by all accounts they speak for themselves.’
‘But we didn’t as much as kiss...’ Her voice trailed off when he gave her a wide-eyed look, for their lips may not have touched but certainly there had been contact. ‘Oh, no...’ She could hear the roar of her pulse in her ears and her legs seemed to turn to lead but she pushed them to move and then sat down on a chaise longue by the windows in the vast bedroom.
Dante remained at the doors and watched as she put her head in her hands. Mia was clearly devastated and, surprisingly for Dante, even with Sarah’s words lingering, not for a second did he think she might have engineered it. ‘We can leave now, unnoticed, as the pictures are not yet out, but I guarantee it is a window that will close very soon.’
