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“Screw the gardens,” Lorenzo barked. “You need to disappear until I’m ready for you.”
“Forgive me, but I’m staying,” Sammy said firmly as he turned around. “Your wife is right. I know Bianca. This will backfire on all three of us.”
“Lorenzo, listen to him,” Ariana begged. “Sammy knows her in ways we don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lorenzo growled.
“Not like that, Mr. Albertini,” Sammy said hastily. “Bianca is a beautiful girl, but she’s not exactly my type.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know your type,” Lorenzo grunted.
“She’s here,” Ariana exclaimed as headlights flashed across the grounds. “Sammy, stay right where you are.”
“No, leave,” Lorenzo barked, “before she comes in.”
“I’m sorry, Lorenzo,” Ariana said firmly, darting to the door and standing in front of it. “The only way Sammy will leave this room is if he pushes me out of the way.”
“Dammit, woman! You’ll ruin everything.”
“Mr. Albertini,” Sammy said calmly, but raising his voice. “I know it was a shock hearing what your daughter has done, but threatening to hurt me to make her confess is wrong, and I’m sorry, but I won’t have any part of it.”
“I’m not threatening to hurt you, not exactly, and you and I have a deal.”
“We had a deal. I’m sorry, I’ve changed my mind. If she wants to tell you, that’s up to her. I won’t be a party to any kind of blackmail or coercion.”
“Give your daughter some credit,” Ariana interjected. “She’s a good girl at heart. Let her share the story of her own volition when she’s ready.”
“It appears I don’t have much choice,” Lorenzo said angrily, staring at Sammy. “As far as our deal is concerned—”
But before he could finish, Nick opened the door and Bianca stepped into the room.
CHAPTER23
Before Bianca had a chance to even blink, Ariana threw her arms around her and hugged her tightly. Squeezing her eyes shut, Bianca felt heat in her throat and the threat of tears.
“Sweetheart, I can’t begin to tell you how desperate I’ve been,” Ariana said, her voice cracking as she pulled back and studied her daughter. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, honestly, I’m fine.”
“Come here, little girl,” Lorenzo ordered, walking briskly across the room and opening his arms.
“I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad,” she said, clinging to him and trying not to cry.
“You’ll always be my little girl. That will never change.”
His comment hit a raw, vulnerable place in her soul, and the wet droplets won the war and spilled down her cheeks.
“Hey, honey, it’s okay, everything’s okay,” he crooned. “You’re safe now, but I understand what you’ve been through. Maybe even what you’re going through right now.”
“I doubt it,” she sniffled, shifting to stare up at him.
“I’ve been around a while. There isn’t much your old man hasn’t seen or done.”
“Sorry, Dad, there’s mascara all over your shirt,” she muttered, spying the black smudges.
“That’s what a father’s shirt is for, and why he has to own more than one.”
“You’re too funny,” she remarked with the hint of a smile. “Where do you come up with these lines?”
