Page 25 of His Unexpected Heir

“I don’t understand. Why would you want to deface property with graffiti?”

She laughed and shook her head, the sunshine glinting off of her dark hair.

“It’s not really graffiti. Look at this,” she explained, pulling up a website on her phone. “I visited Ashville, North Carolina several months ago. There’s an old area that used to be the hub of an industrial site. It’s filled with train tracks and abandoned warehouses.”

She looked into his eyes, hoping he would understand. “There aren’t train tracks here, but these buildings are all abandoned. However,” she flicked her thumb over the image, “if you cover everything with art, then this could become an art center.” She flicked her finger over the screen and new images filled the small area. “A group of graffiti artists started using the abandoned warehouses as their canvas. There were no restrictions at that point, but the idea grew roots. As word got out, more artists put their images on the buildings. Other people in the town wanted to participate and the idea just…took off.” She flipped through the images, showing him more. “ The ugly, rotting, rusting buildings were slowly transformed into a colorful tourist spot. Now there are artists buying up the buildings to showcase their wood working art, glass art, multi-media art sculptures, and canvases. There are several breweries that offer meals and other shops that appeal to the patrons of the city. What had previously been a place for criminals and gangs to hang out, had transformed an art hub and a hip place to grab an interesting meal from up and coming chefs while sampling craft beers and distilled spirits.”

Antonio was stunned by the simplicity of the idea. He eyed the blank brick walls. He remembered walking with his grandfather through this area. It had previously been filled with butcher shops, cheese shops, boutique stores, and small trinket shops. Now it was just an abandoned area with broken windows and garbage lining the curbs.

He’d tasked Astra with bringing the villagers together. He hadn’t realized the potential of actually revitalizing the entire town’s business opportunities.

Turning, he smiled at her, fully on board with her idea. “What do you need to make this happen?”

She grinned and clapped her hands, bouncing with enthusiasm. “Everything is already ordered for the initial art competition. Macie built a website where artists can submit their drawings and tourists can buy tickets. She’s also figured out a way to advertise the event to lure even more people. Townspeople get free tickets from the pub.”

She gestured at the wall as she continued. “You will provide the paint. The artists are submitting their proposed drawings. There will be a contest which will be more like a festival. The artists will begin painting in the early morning and they’ll have two days to finish. The town residents, as well as tourists, can stop by and purchase food and drinks from the food trucks, all of which will be renting space, by the way.” She grinned at his surprise, nodding. “By Sunday evening, we’ll have a big celebration, complete with more beer, wine, and ale and I’ve ordered barbeque this time. Then the villagers will vote on their favorite design. Even the school kids will participate with chalk drawings on the street.” She pointed towards the streetlights. “Tomorrow, the mayor promised the street lights would be fixed. And then, next weekend, we’re having a dance right over there. We’re getting string lights installed and four local bands have been hired to play.” She clasped her hands again. “What do you think?”

He looked over at the old town square that was currently just a concrete slab surrounded by nothing. Then he glanced again at the bare walls, up at the streetlights, and the sidewalk. Finally, he nodded. “I think it’s brilliant.” He nodded again. “Thank you, Astra. I knew that you would be the perfect candidate for this effort.” He took her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips. He kissed them gently, staring into her eyes.

It was an old-fashioned gesture and the tension sizzled between them. He’d never kissed a woman’s fingers before, but there was something right about Astra’s hand. She deserved…everything.

Then he remembered that she’d rejected him.

Antonio cleared his throat and stepped back, dropping her hands. “What else do you have planned?” he asked, resisting the desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her properly. He wanted to show her how much he appreciated her ideas, as well as the energy and creativity needed to accomplish all of this.

Astra looked around and Antonio wondered about the strange look on her features. But before he could analyze her expression, she gestured down the street and, as they walked, she explained her other ideas. They were more conventional, but he knew that she’d add her own twist to each event.

When she ran out of steam, he drove them to the pub and they dined on bean soup and bread with sliced meats and cheese served on a rough, wooden board. He asked her about her observations with the other villagers, asked if Eldora’s cooking was still miserable. And she inquired about his efforts in Madrid.

For the first time, he explained his plan. Antonio hadn’t meant to tell her anything, but as soon as she’d asked, the words spilled out.

“My father was brutal to the villagers. And all of his businesses were failing, so he allowed a more…unethical element to infiltrate his companies. He was incarcerated last year and it’s taken me all this time to clean them up and sell them off.”

“You sold off all of your inheritance?” she asked, surprised.

He watched as she put a piece of cheese on a crusty piece of bread and nibbled on the end. His mind instantly focused on her lips.

When her eyebrows lifted, it took him several seconds to remember what she’d asked.

He sighed and forced his gaze to look away. “Not necessarily. My father signed documents putting me in charge of his businesses while he’s in prison.” He shook his head, looking down at his own meal. “The man actually thinks that he’s going to get out of prison soon. He’s delusional and convinced that someone within the Spanish government will realize that he’s a member of the aristocracy and they will drop the judgments against him.”

“In other words, you’re just in charge of his businesses until he’s free? At least, in his mind?”

“Exactly,” Antonio replied. “I’ve sold off every one of the businesses over the past year so that, even in the off chance that he does get out of prison, he won’t have any resources available to him.”

“Was he really that terrible?”

He cut off another slice of bread. “My father threw me into the castle’s dungeon when I didn’t get a perfect score on a test.” He sliced some cheese. “Or if I wasn’t sitting up straight enough at the dinner table. He beat me if I spoke in any manner he deemed disrespectful. He savaged anyone’s business that didn’t honor him highly enough. He evicted people from their homes, even if they paid their rent or their mortgage. He…reacted brutally to any act he didn’t approve of. Or for any other perceived or imagined flaw in my character.”

Astra gasped. “Please tell me you’re kidding!”

“Nope.” He put the slice of cheese on the bread. “I used to wish that I could trade places with my half-brother. But after speaking with my half-brother, I found out that, after my father arranged to have Matteo sent off to boarding school in the United States, mercilessly tearing him away from his mother, the headmaster locked Matteo up in an attic room of the boarding school. Without food or water or even a bathroom.”

“That’s…barbaric!”

“I agree. I was at least given a pot for a toilet when I was sent to the dungeon.” He bit into the cheese and bread, acting as if he hadn’t just been discussing an abusive father that should have been imprisoned a long time ago.

“I’m so sorry, Antonio,” she whispered sympathetically, reaching out to touch his arm.

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