Several times over the years, Luigi had tried to contact him. Cristiano had never responded. He had no interest in listening to the man’s angry recriminations. Let the man figure out for himself why Cristiano had destroyed him.
It was now seventeen years after he’d first entered the stately villa once owned by Bennato, and Cristiano had bought it for himself. The bankrupt, lonely old man was living in the former housekeeper’s tiny house outside Cavello.
Life could be full of unexpected joys, Cristiano thought with satisfaction. As the Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of the grand courtyard of the elegant nineteenth-century villa, he smiled to himself, glancing at Hallie, waiting for her reaction.
Her eyes were huge as she looked from the villa to the terraced, manicured gardens overlooking the sea. She’s in shock, he thought smugly. He was already keenly anticipating the sensual expressions of her gratitude later.
Their driver, Marco, opened the door and helped Hallie out of the car with the baby. Behind them parked an SUV carrying Agata, Salvatore and all the luggage.
Hallie’s mouth was open as she looked out over the vastness of the estate, which had once been owned by the King of Naples.
“Welcome to your new home,” Cristiano said. He waited for her cries of joy, for her to fling her arms around him and kiss him with the intensity of her delight.
She simply held their baby, looking up blankly at the palatial villa.
“Our home,” he said encouragingly. “Just like you wanted.”
Looking at him, Hallie shook her head. “This wasn’t what I had in mind at all.”
“It’s the grandest house on the Amalfi Coast. What can you possibly dislike?”
“It’s too big.”
“Too big?” he said incredulously. How could anything be too big?
Hallie looked at him. “It’s like a hotel.”
“We’ll be the only ones living here.”
“We’ll need a megaphone to find each other.”
He frowned. “And the gardens—what do you find wrong with those?”
Slowly she looked around the manicured gardens, from the formal hedge maze to the perfectly arranged flowers and palm trees overlooking the blue Tyrrhenian Sea.
“It’s...like a park,” she said. Turning back to face him, she shook her head. “How can I possibly take care of it all?”
“We’ll have staff, of course.”
“Oh.” She looked oddly dejected. Not exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for.
“Would you prefer a sad, broken-down apartment?” he said shortly. “Where you can hear neighbors screaming and your windows get smashed by thieves? Where the electricity is often out and even your few, most precious possessions can disappear at any moment to pay for—”
For your mother’s whiskey, he’d almost said. He caught himself just in time.
“No. Of course not.” Putting her hand on his arm, Hallie gave him an apologetic smile. “You’re right. I’m being a jerk.”
He didn’t respond. He was suddenly picturing his mother the last time he’d seen her. Violetta’s face had been bruised and bleeding from her lover’s fists, and she’d been screaming at Cristiano for trying to defend her. That was his last memory of her face. He’d returned hours later to find her house ablaze.
He could still feel the searing pain of the flames when he’d nearly died trying to get inside to save her. He could hear the crackle of the fire and the furious howl of grief that rose to the dark sky when they brought her body out of the embers and ash.
“I’m so sorry.” Feeling Hallie’s hand against his cheek, he focused on her again. “I’ve made you upset, haven’t I?”
“No,” he bit out.
“I can see I have. I’m sorry for sounding so ungrateful. The house is beautiful. Thank you.”
Reaching up on her tiptoes, she kissed him. Taking her roughly in his arms, he kissed her back hungrily until their baby, still held on Hallie’s hip, complained about the close quarters, and they both pulled away with rueful laughs.