“Why do you care? You are only here to collect your things, and the baby’s.”
Frowning, Tess looked at him. “What are you talking about?”
Stefano snorted. “Surely you cannot wish to remain here, working yourself to exhaustion for little pay.”
What choice do I have? She bit back the bitter words. She wouldn’t let Stefano think she was asking for his money or anything else not freely given.
She was being foolish, she knew. Her practical, financially focused friend Lola would be screaming at her right now to demand a hefty dose of child support, as was her right, and as he could easily afford.
But she couldn’t do it.
Tess had once wondered how her friend Hallie could have ever refused money from Cristiano Moretti under similar circumstances. Now, for the first time, she understood. It was because, after losing so much, sometimes a woman had only her pride left to cling to.
She set her jaw. “We’ll be fine.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve already called my lawyer.”
Confused, she turned to him. “A lawyer? Why?”
“Now that I have proof of Esme’s paternity, I cannot evade responsibility.”
She sucked in her breath. “What do you mean?”
“Tess.” Stefano’s dark eyes glittered in the gray morning light. “Did you really think I’d leave you and Esme without a penny? My driver will return later this morning to collect you and Esme, and take you to my lawyer’s office in Midtown. He’ll arrange for your bank account and funds to buy a nice apartment in any neighborhood you desire. My driver will be at your disposal anytime, day or night. All your needs will be provided for, anything you need to make your l
ife more comfortable. A housekeeper, a cook, charge accounts at every department store, private school for Esme.”
Tess’s mouth was open. “What?”
Stefano gave a hard, careless smile. “Why does this surprise you? It is now my duty to provide for you. You will never have to work again, Tess. Or do anything you do not wish to do.”
Behind him, dimly Tess could see the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan skyline across the East River as the Rolls-Royce turned into her neighborhood.
When he’d said he wanted to take responsibility, for a moment she’d actually thought he intended to help raise their child, to be a real father; instead, he just meant money.
She should have been thrilled by his offer. Lola would have told her so in no uncertain terms. But she wasn’t. Stefano made her feel as if she and Esme were merely another unpleasant obligation, like an electricity bill.
Sadness filled her heart. Her shoulders sagged as she turned away, staring out at the Brooklyn street. Her street.
“Tess?”
As they pulled up in front of the bakery, she said in a low voice, “I don’t want your money.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s all arranged. Watson will be back in about two hours, won’t you, Watson?”
“Maybe three, depending on the traffic, Your Highness.”
Stefano reached over the baby’s car seat to take Tess’s hand in his own. “You’re free,” he said in a low voice. “You and the baby can enjoy your lives.” He paused. “Someday you’ll find a man who deserves you both.”
“Thanks,” she said over the lump in her throat, pulling her hand away. His patronizing words burned her to the core. She would have preferred it if he’d told her that he found her boring and that he’d rather eat glass than raise a child. At least then she could have respected his honesty. Instead, he was trying to make it sound like he was abandoning Tess for her sake, which shamed her. “I guess this is goodbye, then.” She tried to toss her head, to smile. “And good riddance, right?”
“What does that mean?”
“A man like you would never want to commit to a family. Especially not a family like us.” Avoiding his eyes, she unbuckled Esme and lifted her into her arms, along with the diaper bag. Getting out of the back seat of the Rolls-Royce, she looked back at Stefano, so thuggishly handsome in his well-cut suit. The man she’d loved with such fierce, unwavering loyalty for so long.
That man had never truly existed. He was a man she’d made up in her own heart, someone noble and strong who just happened to have Stefano’s face and voice.
Looking one last time into his dark eyes, she whispered, “Goodbye, Stefano.”