Page 36 of The Sicilian’s Deal For 'I Do'

‘I’d like to see you, too. There are some things to discuss.’

A sixth sense had the hairs on the back of Luca’s neck bristling. ‘Oh?’

‘I’ve seen his will.’

Luca moved to his desk chair and sat down, legs wide, elbows braced atop his thighs. ‘I don’t care about his will.’

‘I figured you’d say that.’ Max half laughed, but it was a sound without humour.

‘And yet you are saying it anyway?’

‘Half his business is left to you.’

Luca sat straighter, rubbed his jaw. ‘What?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I told him—’

‘I know. But it’s your legacy. Look, it’s not up to me to speak for the old man, but I wouldn’t be surprised if contemplating his own mortality hasn’t given him some insight into the past, into things he would change if he could. Maybe it’s not enough for you, but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t come and see him. Listen to him. If you don’t like what he has to say, you can leave again.’

‘Thank you for your permission,’ Luca drawled, then cringed, because Max was his brother, and Luca not only loved him, he respected him, and his opinions. ‘I am grateful for your insight,’ he tried again, more sincerely. ‘But I need to think about it.’

Max was silent and Luca knew him well enough to picture his brother’s face, so like his own, with those symmetrical features, angular jaw and chiselled cheekbones. His expression would be one of discontent, but Luca wasn’t about to offer more than some consideration.

‘Think fast, Luc. I have a bad feeling about this.’

Luca disconnected the call and reached for his Scotch glass in one swift movement, mulling over the news he’d just received, trying to disentangle his feelings from his duties, to weigh up whether he had any duties towards his father or if his father’s treatment of the boys, and of Luca’s mother, absolved Luca completely. And all the while, Mia’s sweetly spoken words ran through his mind. People were neither wholly good nor bad. Had he overlooked the nuance of his father’s personality? Good people could make bad decisions, and vice versa.

He let out a gruff noise of frustration.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to resolve this.

When he was seventeen, a year before leaving Australia, he’d confronted his dad and given him a chance to offer something, anything, by way of explanation. Apology. Justification.Anythingthat would help Luca understand. But his father had simply shrugged and told him he couldn’t change the past and if Luca had an issue with it, that was exactly what it was: Luca’s issue. In fact, he’d told his son he needed to toughen up if he ever wanted to amount to anything in this world.

And so the day he turned eighteen, Luca had left, and not looked back.

With each corporate victory, he’d remembered his father’s words, the implication that Luca would never be good enough. The biggest delight in his life came from proving his father wrong.

But Luca had also sworn to himself that he’d be different from his father. That he wouldn’t make the same mistakes and treat people as expendable. That he wouldn’t hurt someone the way his father had hurt his mother, and Max’s mother.

So how could he accept what he’d done to Mia? Who, as it turned out, hadn’t deserved even a hint of his anger. Mia, who’d been innocent in every goddamned way.

Luca raked his fingers through his hair, spiking it at odd angles. Suddenly, all he wanted was to see her, to speak to her, to bare his soul to her about his father, to ask her advice. So he poured another Scotch and paced the room, because needing someone was a mistake Luca didn’t ever intend to make. Particularly not someone engaged to another man.

‘You can’t be here.’ It was history repeating itself, Luca arriving at her office—though, mercifully, he’d come late in the day again, when most of the staff had left. And her body’s response, predictably hectic and flushed, desire pooling between her legs. She was wearing one of the dresses he’d bought for her—as if she could ever donate such a beautiful item that reminded her of him—but now she wished she weren’t. It made her feelings for him too obvious.

‘I needed to see you.’

Oh, how she needed that too. Her heart lurched and her blood pounded in her veins but she held her ground, standing behind her desk, hoping she looked something like impassive. But how could she? It had been three days since they’d returned from his beach house, and she’d been waiting, hoping, wishing to see him even when she was glad each night that she hadn’t weakened.

She was getting married.

Her parents had met with Lorenzo’s parents only the day before, for a long, family lunch. The expectation was set. The business merger was happening. Grandchildren were being planned.

Strange how, a few weeks ago, Mia would have said she wanted children more than anything on earth, and now the thought left her strangely hollow. Because when she closed her eyes and imagined swelling with new life, holding her baby in her arms, it was Luca’s eyes that stared back at her, a son or daughter of his to love and hold and raise and care for.

‘You can’t be here,’ she repeated, to remind herself of all the reasons this was wrong.

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