And then she saw the amount.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“There’s a note,” he said.
Fearing what she would find, she reached back into the envelope. There was indeed a short note in Maximo’s handwriting.
I’ve deposited the payment agreed upon per our contract into your account. Thirty million dollars, plus the current full market value for Ferrazzi SpA, equals three hundred million.
Thank you for being so good to me. I never deserved you. I’ll never forget you. My wife. My love. The only one.
It was unsigned. Sucking in her breath, Lucy held the paper close. “Where is he?”
“Gone,” the pilot said. “I flew him to Rome as he wished to transfer Ferrazzi to your grandfather. Then he wanted to get away—”
“He gave away Ferrazzi?” she gasped. “To my grandfather?”
The pilot nodded. “I saw Signor Ferrazzi in Rome. Looking hale and hearty, too, I might add. Apparently he himself started the rumor that he was dying.” He shook his head. “Makes me glad I’m a pilot and not part of the fashion business.”
Ermanno suddenly hit his forehead. “Mi scusi, principessa. The prince, he asked me to give you this at once, the instant I saw you. He said you’d be wanting it far more than money. Here it is—”
And from the pocket of his voluminous leather coat, he pulled out a ragged purple lump. Chloe saw it and clapped her hands with a delighted gasp.
A sob rose to Lucy’s lips.
Hippo.
Maximo had found Hippo and knew what it meant to Chloe. He’d saved her. Just as he’d saved Lucy in Chicago.
He hadn’t ruined their lives. He’d taken care of them both. Protected them from Alex. Treated Chloe like his own daughter. Showered affection and gifts. Cooked for them. Read books to Chloe. And seduced Lucy with pleasure she’d never imagined possible. And at the end, even after she’d left him, he’d given up Ferrazzi—the hard-won prize he’d sought for twenty years.
Why would he do that?
There was only one explanation. Maximo hadn’t been pretending.
He really did love her.
He loved her, and she’d humiliated him. Thrown the ring back in his face. Drawn his blood in front of the whole world.
Who was really the monster?
With a harsh intake of breath, Lucy leaped to her feet. Chloe was too rapturous over Hippo to give more than a squawk of protest as Lucy turned fiercely to the pilot.
“Where is he?”
The pilot looked startled. “The prince does not wish anyone to know, your highness.”
“Tell me right now!” She stepped toward him, feeling like she might do something desperate. “Tell me!”
The pilot shook his head sorrowfully. “I’m sorry. He expressly ordered me to tell no one.”
Lucy wanted to shake him, but what good would that do? It wasn’t the pilot’s fault. The man was only following orders. Exhausted, choked with grief, she covered her face with her hand.
She’d been such a fool. She’d had Maximo’s love, and she’d thrown it all away. And now it was too late. She’d lost him.
Her former bodyguard suddenly turned his three-hundred-pound bulk on the pilot.
“Tell her,” he growled.