Page 23 of Consequence of One Reckless Night

A female crew member scurried past him, looking harried as he ascended the steps to the deck. When he stepped onto the deck, a someone greeted him with a raised voice.

Who could it be? No one had the clearance to board the vessel without his permission, and he wasn’t expecting company. But when he reached the bow, his steps faltered.

Carlos stood arguing with his skipper. His grandfather’s sudden, unexpected arrival piqued him.

Carlos had never liked his line of business. Clubs and luxury yachts...they were breeding grounds for sin, according to his starchy, conservative grandfather.

But it didn’t matter to Alexandre what anyone thought of his line of work. He didn’t do anything illegal or dangerous, although rumors abound about his parties frequently turning into orgies. That he didn’t bother to quell the rumors only attracted the thrill seekers even more.

Yet instead of commending him on his swift rise to success, Carlos had been quick to condemn him. “Your money is evil,” he’d told him once. “You will rot in hell for leading a sinful life.”

But Alexandre took it on the chin, working ever harder to give his clients every luxury they desired, so long as it was legal, that is.

However, Carlos’s presence aboard his yacht puzzled him. His grandfather would never deign to visit him, and that too, on one of his yachts!

“Good morning, Pops.”

Carlos prickled at his welcome. “You have no right to call me that after this terrible thing you’ve done!” The old man’s vituperative outburst amused him.

“It’s a bit early to start giving me compliments, isn’t it?” His light-hearted reply further infuriated Carlos, who brushed past the skipper he’d been shouting at, crossed the length of the deck, and came to stand right in front of him.

Alexandre nodded at his skipper, who with a nod, made himself scarce. Everyone knew, when riled, Carlos could be irascible.

“Tell me, what brings you to my humble sea abode?” Alexandre loved needling the old man, but he sensed, today, Carlos was more than just cantankerous.

“This!” Carlos threw a newspaper at him which smacked him in the chest before falling to his feet. “For years, I’ve watched you do reckless stunts, engage in deplorable acts, one after the other, but this one is the vilest of them all.”

Unamused by Carlos’s castigating words, Alexandre bent and picked up the newspaper. Unfolding it, he automatically turned to page three, where his exploits—true and fictional—were often reported.

“How could you do this to your brother?”

Carlos’s accusation rang loudly in his ears as he stared—disbelieving—at the damning article.

Billionaire hides secret love child.

His eyes blurred and his heart jerked to a stop before beginning to thump madly again. With blood roaring in his ears, Alexandre tried to read the short article, but he could barely see past the fury that blinded him.

Billionaire... Alexandre Monteiro... secret relationship... Raquel DaCosta.

How had the press got hold of their secret? Who knew about the child—besides him and Raquel? Had she told anyone? Or had she...gone to the press herself—to punish him?

But he quickly killed the thought. The grainy photograph which accompanied the article showed Raquel outside the Club M, in a blue dress, her hand on her cheek, as though wiping a tear. He vaguely remembered that she’d worn that dress the previous day when she’d come to see him. No, Raquel wasn’t responsible for this, he was certain. Why would she incriminate herself if she wanted to punish him? Then who had leaked the news to the press?

“How could you seduce your brother’s fiancée?”

His head jerked up and he stared at Carlos. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and he swung away from his grandfather, ashamed that the whole world now knew his secret before he could even speak with Leandro and ask for his forgiveness. The article didn’t mention Leandro. It mentioned an affair between him and Raquel, which had resulted in—a love child.

Will the most infamous bachelor in Goa, the reporter gleefully speculated,finally settle down?

“I never thought you’d fall so low,” Carlos carried on, uncaring that he was struggling to come to terms with the fact that his very personal life was now splattered across the papers for the whole world to consume and—jeer at.

“No matter what I gave you—my name, my wealth, nothing satisfied you. You always wanted what Leandro had, so much so that you even took his fiancée!” Carlos spat. “I thought you’d be better than the man who fathered you, but you are just like him. You have no moral compass, and you certainly don’t care how your actions affect others in your life.

“Your father shamed his wife and son with his many affairs. Now you’ve shamed your brother by seducing his fiancée—a kind woman who deserves much better than a despicable lothario like you. I’m ashamed of you. I wish you weren’t my grandson!”

Carlos’s castigation cut like a knife, but Alexandre didn’t wait around to refute him. He ran down to his cabin, his ears buzzing with his grandfather’s words. Remorse filled him—for failing his family yet again, but his only thought right now was about Raquel.

Grabbing his keys, he ran up to the deck, where his grandfather stood glowering—incredulous that he had the gall to run off in the middle of his tirade. No one left Carlos’s presence before they were dismissed.

---