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I was resolved to have the baby.Mybaby. Alone. And never to contact him again—after replying to his executive declining his financial offer.
But three days after that text, while I was working a double shift in my new job in a kitchen in a hotel in Mayfair, trying to save the money to launch my catering business, the bleeding started. Within twenty-four hours, the baby I thought would be mine—and mine alone—died inside me.
I was devastated. Hollowed out.
Alone and in pain, I contacted Belle and she rushed to my bedside. I didn’t tell her that I’d had a miscarriage. Because I couldn’t.
I felt like a fool. Heartbroken and empty. But a small part of me was also relieved.
Not because I hadn’t wanted my baby. But because I wasn’t sure I had wanted it for the right reasons. Had I wanted it because it was my child? Or because it was his?
And finally, as I began the long slow process of repairing my body, and my stupidly naive and romantic heart, the empty ache inside me finally turned to the hate I had wanted to feel for the man who had made me feel so much, but had never felt anything for me in return.
CHAPTER FOUR
Four yearslater
Now...
Jessie
‘ACTUALLY,IASKEDyou here under false pretences, Jess.’ Belle beamed at me.
The guilty flush on her face made her look even more beautiful as she nursed the latest addition to the Galanti clan while we sat on the terrace of Villa Galanti, the stunningly beautiful Belle Epoque mansion where Belle had grown up as the daughter of the housekeeper, and which she had managed to turn into a home in the four years since she had finally married Alexi.
I grinned back at her, trying to ignore the tug in my heart as I watched her newborn son, Gaspar, sucking voraciously on her nipple. Her three-year-old twin daughters, Sofia and Isabel, were playing nearby with the gifts I had brought from London.
It was embarrassing to realise this was the first time I’d come to visit Belle here since my fateful night in Paris. I was actually quite annoyed with myself.
The family had invited me to Monaco many times, but I’d always struggled at the thought of seeing Belle with her children in her home—even Cai, their oldest son who was now eight years old and who I had always been close to because I had helped to bring him up before Belle and Alexi reconciled.
Just another layover from my disastrous night with Renzo Camaro, I realised.
It was way past time I moved on from that night. I’d been burying myself in the work I loved in the last four years, establishing my business and a stellar reputation as a personal events chef. My list of clientele was growing and I had made a name for myself in the sort of circles in which Belle and Alexi moved, helped immensely by Belle’s insistence on singing my praises to anyone who would listen.
And it was not as if I needed to worry about meeting Renzo. I knew he had had a crash fourteen months ago on the track. And had disappeared from the social whirl since.
He had even sold the Destiny Team.
Not that I’d been keeping track of him, I told myself.
Then why are you thinking about him?
‘Well, whatever your ulterior motive is, I’m glad to finally be here.’ I smiled back at Belle, determined to stop thinking about him. ‘And meeting this little one is an added bonus.’ I stroked the baby’s head, the feel of his downy hair and the smell of baby powder turning the tug in my heart into a definite yank.
I ignored it. There was no reason I couldn’t have a family of my own. Eventually. Now my business was thriving. Just because I hadn’t found a man I felt comfortable dating yet, surely I would soon.
‘He’s wonderful, Belle. Just like all your kids.’ I grinned, glancing at the girls, who were starting to squabble over their new toys.
Belle laughed, her expression full of the frustration of motherhood. ‘Hmm, I think we can reserve judgement on that. I’m fairly certain Cai for one would not agree with you about his—’ she lifted one hand to add air quotes ‘—far too many sisters.’
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had since I had made the decision to visit her in Monaco at last.
‘So, what’s the ulterior motive?’ I prompted.
‘It’s more of a massive favour,’ she said, looking sheepish. And now I was intrigued.
But I knew, whatever it was, I’d do it. I felt guilty for being so absent in Belle’s life for the last four years. And for never having the guts to tell her the truth about what had happened in Paris.
