“Have you heard of Alhajar?”
The word was delicious, the way he pronounced it like a whisper, it sounded more like Alharjshar. Exotic and musical all at once, and yes, it was familiar. She nodded, slowly.
“It is a small but phenomenally wealthy kingdom in the Middle East. Samir is its Sheikh.”
“Your cousin?”
He dipped his head in silent agreement.
“Why wouldn’t your grandfather acknowledge him?”
“Because Samir’s mother – my aunt – ran away from home when she was only sixteen to get married.” Fiero’s smile was tight. “She was Gianfelice – my grandfather’s – only daughter, and he doted on her. But she fell in love, and the man in question was not only a foreign King, but he was also twenty years her senior. Naturally Gianfelice didn’t approve.”
Elodie shuddered. “Understandably. Sixteen is so young, and thirty six is old enough to know better.”
“They fell in love,” Fiero lifted his shoulders. “She was determined, and nothing my grandfather did could win her back. He was a powerful man, used to being obeyed but Sheikh Rami was determined to marry my aunt.”
“Wow. And that’s it? Because of that you never got to meet your cousin?”
“It was forbidden to even mention my aunt’s name. Gianfelice was heartbroken, so was Yaya. My father says they were never the same after that. Even when Samir was born – he’s six months older than I am – it didn’t soften my grandfather’s attitude. He wouldn’t see Camilla, my aunt, wouldn’t acknowledge her. She died a few years ago, and I know he regretted it – he regretted not forgiving her and making his peace. He lost so much because he held onto that anger and foolish pride.” He shook his head with disapproval.
“But you must understand how he felt.”
“Oh, absolutely. When she was sixteen. But as the years went on, she became twenty six, thirty six, a queen, confident and happy in her choice. She knew her own mind and heart and we were all punished because my grandfather couldn’t get past that.” Fiero’s smile was uncomfortable. “It is the single area in Gianfelice’s life of which I am critical.”
“You were close to him?”
Fiero nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Why did you spend so much time at his house?”
“Villa Fortune,” he supplied.
“Right. Where were your parents?”
He grimaced. “Not particularly interested in being parents.” He shrugged. “But also, Gianfelice was…”
“Was?” She prompted, when he didn’t speak.
“I adored him,” Fiero said thoughtfully. “I never questioned the situation, as a boy. It’s just the way it was. But once he died, we discovered papers in his office – he’d had custody signed over to him of all six of us, and in exchange, his sons were guaranteed access to their trust funds early.”
Elodie’s eyes widened. “He bought you?”
Fiero shook his head. “Nei
ther of his sons are particularly…paternal. It was for the best.”
“To take children away from their parents?” She huffed indignantly.
“No one was forced into it,” Fiero commented drily. “If they’d wanted us more than they did their inheritance…”
Disapproval shook through her. “I can’t believe this. So all six of you were raised by a man who’d paid off your biological parents?”
“We still saw my parents,” he said with a soft laugh. “It wasn’t like we were stolen out of their lives. But our grandparents provided us with the kind of stability we’d been missing.” He paused a moment. “I sometimes think he did it for Yaya. After what she lost, with my aunt…she never really recovered. But we brought her joy. She used to say how good it was to have Villa Fortuna ringing with noise once more.”
Elodie was full of criticism for Gianfelice’s actions, but she didn’t voice it in that moment. It was clear that Fiero looked up to his grandfather, and she wasn’t sure it was fair to judge him based on the scant details she had – no matter how damning.
“I’m sorry you lost him,” she offered, instead.