'As usual, our conversations lead us nowhere,' she said flatly, picking her bag up from the chair and slinging it over her shoulder. 'I'm leaving, Rico, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. If you won't let me use your plane then I'll just get a commercial flight.'
Anything to get away from him.
At this point she was so desperate that she would have chartered her own plane if that were the only option remaining to guarantee her escape.
'The only place you're going is back to the villa to play happy families.'
'I'm not a member of your staff, nor am I any longer a member of your family,' she said tartly, 'so I don't follow orders.'
'You never did.' he said coldly, 'but you're still going to do as I say.'
'And by what means do you intend to coerce me?' She tilted her head to one side, her expression blatantly challenging. 'Thumb screws? The rack?'
'I don't have to resort to anything so crude,' he replied evenly. 'I merely have to instruct the bank to foreclose on the loan for your mother's antique shop. One phone call, Stasia. That's all it would take.'
r />
There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of Stasia's rapid breathing. When she finally spoke her voice was far from steady. 'You can't do that. You shouldn't even know about that.' She shook her head slightly, denying the possibility that he was telling the truth.
'That loan is nothing to do with you.'
He looked bored. 'Now who is being naive. Stasia?
Why do you think the bank agreed to the loan so easily?'
She stared at him. 'It wasn't easy. We presented sound business plans—'
'Which were ambitious,' Rico said smoothly, 'and the loan was granted because I agreed to act as guarantor.'
'That isn't true.' Dear God, don't let it be true. 'You're lying.'
His gaze didn't waver. 'Phone the bank.'
Her mind was racing through all the possibilities, examining the facts. 'But I applied for the loan in my mother's name. I didn't mention you.'
'You were my wife and I have a great deal of trouble remaining anonymous, as you should know by now,' he said dryly. 'Some hotshot at the bank recognized you from the papers. After that they were only too pleased to help you in any way they could.'
With dawning horror, Stasia remembered how the staff at the bank had gone from being condescending and downright obstructive to obsequious. At the time she'd confidently assumed it was because they'd given her business plan proper consideration. Now she cringed at her naivety.
How could she have been so stupid? How could she not have suspected that her relationship with Rico was behind the sudden change in attitude? Hadn't she seen it before a million times? The way people fawned over Rico, doing anything to win his approval.
'No.' She closed her eyes, wanting it not to be true, but knowing that it was. Suddenly her legs felt ridiculously shaky and she felt physically sick. 'I never wanted that. I never wanted to take anything from you.'
Or she would have become exactly what his family had thought she was. A gold-digger.
The thought appalled her. She wanted to achieve things on her own merits. And she'd never been interested in Rico's money. Just in him. The man himself.
She stared at him, uncomprehending. 'Why?' Her voice cracked slightly. 'Why did you do that? We weren't even together—'
His handsome face was blank of expression. 'Call it compensation,' he drawled, 'payment for services rendered.'
She turned away so that he couldn't see the pain on her face. Payment. He saw everything in terms of money, including their relationship. And that attitude explained why, for the entire duration of their marriage, she'd felt like his mistress. Never his wife. He'd showered her with gifts and extravagant jewellery, as if money could compensate for the deficiencies in their relationship. It was the only form of currency that he understood.
'I mean it, Stasia,' he drawled with deadly emphasis. 'Either you stay and play the part of the loving wife until such time as I decide that Chiara is well enough or I close down your business. I can and will do it.'
She looked at him with loathing. 'I can't believe that even you could stoop so low.'
'Your opinion on the matter is totally irrelevant.' He was totally unmoved by her passionate declaration and she curled her fists into her palms to stop herself striking him again.