Page 3 of The Scandal Behind The Italian’s Wedding

And once she had gotten the threatening text, she knew that she had to act.

She was in danger. Isabella was in danger.

She didn’t believe that Katie’s overdose had been purely accidental, and she never would. Carlo was the kind of man who had access to all sorts of things, and her friend had been terrified during those last days of her life. Because he had found them.

It had been so simple for a while, to stay under the radar in Europe. Minerva wasn’t a particularly famous face, in spite of her connection to the King family, and outside the United States nobody ever gave her a second glance. If she had been with Violet, everyone would have recognized them.

But on her own, she was just a university student. The same with her friend and roommate.

But clearly, Carlo had figured out who she was, and where she was.

And worse, where Isabella was.

She had no choice but to tell this lie. To throw him off the scent.

Because this baby could not be Carlo’s baby. Not if it was hers. Not if it was Dante’s.

There was a reason the deception about Isabella had been so paramount when she had first come home. That she insisted the child was hers.

Everyone had believed it. And she had thought it would be enough. It was one reason she hadn’t worried over much when photographs of herself and Isabella had begun circulating.

She had never slept with Carlo. Therefore, any child of hers could not be a child of his. And besides, she was used to her superpower. Invisibility.

A wren among a gaggle of peacocks, Minerva was simply accustomed to being forgotten. She didn’t imagine for a moment that Carlo would remember her face. He had only seen her a handful of times during the time she’d spent studying in Rome. And he had been entirely focused on Katie.

But clearly, he had begun to piece things together.

And so...

And so.

She had promised her sister a show. She had delivered.

But she did not seem pleased.

“Dad is going to kill him,” Violet said.

“Do you think so?” Her father had responded to her return with a baby in an extremely sanguine manner. As far as Robert King was concerned, as long as none of his children were crack addicts he had done fine enough.

She had asked him if it bothered him. That she had a child without a partner.

He’d said: “Why would I mind? You’re not a teenager, and you have the money to take care of her. It’s not like the house isn’t big enough.”

And that had been the end of it.

She couldn’t imagine he would be angry simply because the baby was Dante’s.

Dante, on the other hand...

She could only hope that he was somewhere far afield. On the East Coast. In his New York office. Perhaps he would be in Frankfurt or Milan.

Just so long as he wasn’t...

The limo pulled up to the front of the King family mansion, and all of Minerva’s hopes and dreams were dashed when she saw him standing there.

Her heart nearly lurched up her throat and out of her mouth.

She had forgotten.

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