Page 51 of Italian’s Christmas Acquisition

“Because it is my life,” Rocco said. “It is my life, and I will do with it what I choose. I have chosen to marry Noelle Holiday. It is my right. She is the woman that I have chosen. And I am not building a resort in Wyoming.”

“What?” This came from Rosalie, another older member of the board.

“No, I am not. Because my wife, Noelle, will be preserving her family home rather than agreeing to any changes.”

“You’ve cut a deal with her,” Rosalie said. “That much is obvious.”

“And what incentive would I have to do that?” Rocco asked. “She is the one who benefits from it, not me. I found that I had a change of heart up on the mountain.”

“I don’t believe it,” Jeremiah said.

“It is not for you to believe. It is what is happening. You were all happy with my mother’s mental deterioration because she gave you more power. And the eternal expansion lines your pockets. But I do not work for you. And I am not someone you can take advantage of. Perhaps it has not been clear. I am Rocco Moretti. And I will have my way.”

He stormed out of the meeting, his heart hammering. He was furious. Every single one of them had a stake in the way that things had gone with his mother.

And they would pay for it. By watching their easy profits slip away. And once he had total control of everything, he would oust them. He also knew that they were going to drip feed terrible PR stories to the media. There were going to be competing narratives now. He called Noelle as soon as he got into the car.

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“I just had a rather explosive meeting. You have to be aware that there is going to be negative press. Because the board is opposing this marriage. They have no control, but once we have a child, I can begin the process of replacing them, and they don’t like that. They are going to make it sound as if this marriage is an entirely Machiavellian scheme on my part.”

There was a short pause on the other end of the line. “Isn’t it?”

For some reason he didn’t like that. Not after the explosiveness of last night. Not after everything.

“Still. You may feel differently when you see it plastered in black-and-white. They will do their best to smear us and to smear you.”

“I can handle it,” she said.

“I hope that’s true. Because we are going to have to ramp up our efforts. We will be attending a great many events leading up to Christmas. I’m going to get you a wedding planner, and we are going to plan a Christmas charity event.”

“That’s a lot,” she said.

“I’m a lot. If you hadn’t noticed.”

“Yes,” she said. She sounded sad.

Perhaps it was the reminder that all of this served a very specific purpose. He could admit, even if just to himself, that he was somewhat surprised by how jarring it was to have to contend with the fact that there was a scheme at play here. Especially when last night had felt... Like they were the only two people on earth.

“You forget,” she said. “I have run a Christmas tree farm in a small town for years. I can handle intense. I can handle holly and jolly. We have nearly a month until the big day. We can accomplish a lot in that time.”

“You are perfect for this,” he said.

And only after he hung up the phone did he realize how true that was.

“You are perfect for this.”

Noelle clung to that. Day in and day out over the next few weeks.

She started working on planning the charity event he wanted to throw. She talked about it endlessly when they would go out to different functions. And she ignored the venomous headlines that came out about them.

The tell-alls from women he had slept with before. Talking about his prowess and how cold he was.

It hurt her, to read those stories. She tried not to. Because there really was no point. It didn’t benefit her in any way.

It didn’t help her. It only hurt.

So she ignored them. Because he had warned her. And he had been very, very right.

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