‘He attacked a girl?’
Ida rubbed her hands up her bare arms as the chill inside her turned arctic.
‘He claimed she wanted him but then changed her mind. But she was the one with the black eye. He would have raped her ifmygrandfather hadn’t heard her screams. That was when Fausto left Italy, before the authorities could arrest him. He blamed my grandfather, who was from a respected family, for turning the town against him.’
Ida swallowed the sour taste on her tongue. It shouldn’t surprise her. Itdidn’tsurprise her. Yet she felt ashamed. As if her grandfather’s crimes tainted her.
Was it true that her marriage was part of a scheme for vengeance? She’d heard him often enough muttering about getting his own back on enemies in the old country, though he’d built a new life in England.
Ida shifted her weight, the phantom ache from the old ankle injury throbbing in time with her heartbeat, making her reach out to steady herself by gripping the back of a nearby armchair.
‘Go on.’
‘You know the rest. He’s been scheming ever since to build a fortune and bring us down, any way he can. When my father became CEO there were more problems that I’ve tried to rectify.’ Cesare spread his hands in a gesture that opened up those imposing shoulders. ‘But Calogero already had his hooks in too deep. There’s a liquidity problem. He had the power to destroy the company. Unless I agreed to his terms.’
Ida’s hand pressed against her breastbone, holding in her thundering heart. She felt sick. Because, as outlandish as it sounded, she could believe it only too well. Her grandfather was devious and totally ruthless.
‘That was the blackmail? Marry me to save the company?’
Cesare narrowed his eyes then shook his head. ‘There’s no point playing the innocent. He made it clear you’re part of this. You know why I married you.’
‘To save your family business,’ she whispered as the pieces fell into place.
Of courseCesare Brunetti hadn’t decided she’d make his ideal wife. That had been foolish naïvety.
What did she have to recommend her? She didn’t move in his rarefied circles. She wasn’t sophisticated or glamorous. She didn’t speak Italian, just a smattering of phrases.
He was powerful and privileged, with the hauteur of a man used to the best of everything.
How had he felt as he’d watched her walk down the aisle on his enemy’s arm? The man who threatened the business his family had built and nurtured for generations.
Cesare could probably snap his fingers and have the most gorgeous, talented, interesting women at his beck and call. Why would he want someone who had nothing to recommend her but her eagerness to please?
Ida didn’t even have to wonder why her grandfather had lied and said she was a party to the scheme. It was the sort of thing he’d do, to turn the screws and inflame an already dreadful situation. He felt no softness towards her. He didn’t even like her.
She doubted Fausto Calogero liked anyone, except maybe Bruno, his head of security. The thought of that brute sent a shudder down her spine.
Cesare returned to the bar, refilling his glass. ‘Now that you’ve stopped pretending—’
‘Murder.’ Her voice sounded strangled. She swallowed and tried again. ‘You said he was a murderer.’
Cesare swung back to her. Something about his expression made her think that for the first time he suspected she didn’t know the whole story. It was cold comfort. Nothing could breach the chasm between them now.
‘Your grandfather’s campaign of revenge wouldn’t have worked if he’d just waited, hoping my father would make more bad commercial decisions. Hecreatedthe circumstances that almost ruined us. He had the fire set that burned one of our factories to the ground. Two people died, a security guard who’d been knocked on the head and a manager working late, catching up on paperwork.’
Ida’s breath stopped, her fingers clawing the chair’s upholstery.
It was one thing to know her grandfather was ruthless and cruel. It was another to hear this.
She had no doubt there was more. Nor did she question Cesare’s certainty that her grandfather was behind the arson. It all made a terrible sort of sense as she remembered various cryptic comments she’d overheard.
‘Nothing to say? No objections?’
Ida didn’t meet his stare. What was the point? She couldn’t remember ever feeling so exhausted. So hollow.
Amazing to think that a bare hour ago she’d been excited and optimistic for the future. Her lips twisted in a grimace that matched the wrenching pain deep inside.
‘Yet you’re doing business with him. You’ve married his granddaughter.’