Page 73 of Wicked Rivals

“Then what’s the problem?” I repeated.

“The problem is, now you have a child, Stefano. That renders our agreement null and void, and I would be well within my rights to call off this wedding. But for other reasons, I can’t. So what I want is to hear it straight from you. Why did you lie?”

I raised a brow. “You still think I owe you an explanation?”

Yes, I was being an ass, but the strategy I employed was to bait her into showing her true colors. Then, at the very least, I would have a better idea about the likelihood of her being involved in the attack on my son.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said. “You’ve made that clear. But like I said, I think I deserve to know what people will whisper about me in the coming days, so I can adjust accordingly.”

“Adjust how?”

“That depends on the situation. I need the facts, and I need to know the expected outcome.”

Inhaling deeply, I gave myself a minute to think it through.

She wasn’t being unreasonable. Considering the circumstances, her reaction could have been much worse, and if I wanted Enzo in my life, I needed her and Val to at least remain civil to each other.

For better or worse, my house would be under Benedetta’s control, and I would need her to want to make it welcoming for Enzo. I decided to lay the cards she needed on the table.

“I didn’t know about the boy until last night,” I said.

She tilted her head, and the tiniest crease of confusion darkened her delicate brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I received an interesting bit of correspondence yesterday from an anonymous sender. A personal threat. The envelope contained photographs of a woman I hadn’t seen in a decade. And her son. I recognized Valerie, of course, but not the child.

“There was, however, a lock of the boy’s hair included with everything else. Before I saw DNA results for myself, I wanted to confront his mother first. I wanted to see it with my own eyes and hear it straight from her mouth.”

“So you… what? Called her up and invited her to bring the boy over to make cookies in your kitchen?”

“That would be a gross oversimplification of this entire situation. I went to the café she owns. Like I said, I needed to see the boy for myself.”

“And what about the mother?” she asked. “This anonymous threat could very well have come from her for a multitude of reasons…

“Because she wanted you back in her life. Or to extort money from you. To force you to do her a few favors and make you think it was your idea all along. You must admit, Stefano, this is awfully convenient timing.”

I gnashed my back teeth to stop from lashing out.

If I were viewing this scenario from the outside, watching this situation unfold for another man in my position, I would have thought the same thing.

Benedetta was being entirely practical, and I couldn’t get past how little I appreciated what she was insinuating about Val.

I sat back and propped an arm over the chair frame.

“Listen, I was there for all of two minutes before someone opened fire on the place. Most of it meant to be a distraction, I’m sure. But the shooter intended to harm the boy. I took a bullet for him.”

“You were shot?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

She looked me over, then her eyes widened in realization.

“Someone tried to murder that sweet little boy? The child downstairs in the kitchen right now, baking cookies?”

“Yes, so what concerns me far more at the moment is that someone out there was brazen enough to go after a son I didn't even know I had.”

Benedetta stood to pace around the room again, her head dipped slightly forward as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

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