A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir(27)

 

"Then how can you be so unfeeling? You said you loved me!"

Vin glanced grimly toward Beppe, now walking out with his suitcase,  pretending to be deaf and blind to the whole conversation. "I am simply  educating you in how it's going to be. You and the baby will fly to New  York within the week. You'll be ready and willing to take the paternity  test!"

Vin stalked out of the bedroom in his turn, slamming the door behind him.

Woken by the noise, their baby started crying in the nursery next door.  Scarlett flashed hot, then cold. In a fury, she ran to the top of the  staircase.

"We're not going anywhere!" she screamed down at him. "You can't force us!"

Vin's face was startled at the bottom of the stairs. But he didn't  answer. He didn't even pause. Just kept walking, straight out the door.

Hearing the roar of the engine as his car drove away, Scarlett slumped on the top stair, tears running down her cheeks.

How had it all gone so wrong, so fast?

Just that morning, she'd been so happy. So sure he loved her.

But he couldn't. Otherwise, how could he act like this?

He didn't love her. All her dreams came crashing down around her. Covering her face with her hands, Scarlett choked out a sob.

Then, hearing her baby's wails, she took a deep breath. Wiping her eyes,  she rose from the top stair, hoping, as she went to comfort her crying  child, that she could somehow comfort herself.



From the penthouse bar of his ultramodern, luxurious Tokyo hotel, Vin  stared out unseeingly through floor-to-ceiling windows displaying a  panorama of the city, from Hamarikyu Gardens to the illuminated Rainbow  Bridge stretching across Tokyo Bay. The night sky was dazzling from the  bar on the thirtieth floor.

Beautiful.

Bright.

Cold.

Vin took another gulp of his scotch on the rocks, then set it back on  the gleaming bar. He leaned his forehead against his palm, feeling  inexpressibly weary.

It had been two weeks since he'd last spoken to Scarlett. Two weeks  since their argument. For two weeks, he hadn't seen his baby, who in his  short life might already be forgetting he had a father. Vin's heart  felt twisted, raw, hollow.

He tried to tell himself it was worth it. Because Mediterranean Airlines was his.

It had been a hard fight, against a worthy rival, a far larger company.  But Salvatore Calabrese had been duly impressed by Vin abandoning his  wife and baby on Christmas Day to spend the week through New Year's and  beyond focusing only on negotiations. Vin had spent the last two weeks  holed up in this hotel with lawyers.

It was fortunate the view was so nice, because other than the ride from the airport, this was all he'd seen of Tokyo.

But the deal was done. They'd signed the papers an hour ago. Mediterranean Airlines was now part of SkyWorld Airways.

Vin had won.

So why didn't he feel happier?

Sitting up straight on his bar stool, he tried to shake the feeling off.  Scarlett was still in Rome, stubbornly defying him. She hadn't packed a  thing, according to the bodyguards, whom she also continued to evade at  will. She just continued her life as before, taking care of the baby  and their home, helping his family arrange the last-minute details for  his sister's upcoming wedding.

His so-called sister.

His so-called family.

Vin ground his teeth. It was physically painful for him to be around the  Borgias, in spite of-actually, because of-their love for him. If they  knew the truth, that he wasn't really Giuseppe's son, that Bianca had  lied to him and used him for all of Vin's childhood, they would stop  loving him.

It would be subtle, of course. They'd probably claim they were "still a  family." But soon they'd be making excuses not to visit. Christmas cards  would grow rare. Finally, there would be no contact at all, to the  unexpressed relief of both sides.

Vin was done with Rome. It was the place where he'd been forced to feel emotions he didn't want to feel.

Especially for Scarlett.

His hands tightened on his glass of scotch.

But it would all soon be over. He glanced at his black leather briefcase on the bar stool beside him.

Ten minutes after he'd left Rome, with Scarlett's hurled accusations  still ringing in his ears, he'd coldly called his lawyers and had the  post-nup drawn up.

He should have done it weeks ago. But after their marriage, after the  birth of their son, part of his soul had recoiled from betraying  Scarlett. He'd known after he tricked her into signing a post-nup, she  would hate him, too. So he'd put it off, telling himself there was  plenty of time.

He'd been weak. He never should have allowed himself to delay his  original plan. Of course he had to make Scarlett sign the post-nup. It  was the only way Vin could make sure he could always keep them safe. He  had to be in control.   





 

Without it, Scarlett would continue to blithely ignore his demands that she keep the bodyguards close.

She didn't know that when Blaise Falkner disappeared from New York, he'd left a threat behind: "You'll lose even more, Borgia."

But that was just the point. Vin shouldn't have to explain such dangers  to his wife. He didn't want to scare her. He just wanted to keep her  safe.

Why did she have to fight him?

He'd felt so stupidly happy in her arms on Christmas Eve, making love to her. Stupid being the key word.

Waking up in the cold light of Christmas morning, he'd looked down at  his wife in his arms, at the sweetly trusting smile on her beautiful  face as she slept. For a split second, he'd been filled with joy. Then  he'd felt a suffocating panic, even worse than the day they'd wed.

Happiness led to loss. It led to pain. And the joy of love could only end two ways: abandonment or death.

He'd decided long ago that he would never love anyone. He'd never give anyone that power over him.

But had he?

I love you.

He still remembered how he'd trembled when he'd heard Scarlett say those words. When he'd heard himself say them.

I love you.

He angrily shook the memory away.

He wouldn't think of it. Wouldn't feel it. And Scarlett's love for him  would evaporate, along with her trust, after he tricked her into signing  the post-nup. She would hate him then.

Good.

Vin's expression hardened as he took another sip of eighteen-year-old  scotch. Taking love out of the equation would make things easier all  around. Safer. Because he didn't like the things Scarlett made him feel.

Desire, when he thought of her.

Frustration, when she defied him.

Fear, when he thought of a life without her.

Without even trying, his wife made him feel vulnerable, all the time, in every way. This had to end.

Staring blankly out at the Tokyo night, Vin leaned his head against his  hand. He'd return to Rome, ostensibly to attend Maria's wedding, with  the post-nup in his pocket. He'd get Scarlett to sign it. And then-

He'd get his life back. Well-ordered. Controlled. With Vin completely in  charge, and no risk of love or being vulnerable ever again.

"Borgia. Didn't expect to find you here."

Vin was jolted by a hearty clap on his shoulder. Looking back, he saw  Salvatore Calabrese, still wearing the same designer suit and bright  silk tie as when he'd signed the papers selling Mediterranean Airlines.

Vin already felt like he'd spent more than enough time around the  self-involved, arrogant man, but he stifled his dislike and bared his  teeth into a smile. "Hello, Calabrese."

The older man slid onto a nearby stool at the glossy wooden bar and  gestured to the bartender as he continued, "Glad you finally pulled  yourself together to convince me you were the right man to take my  airline global."

"Me, too." Wishing the man would leave, Vin looked idly down at the ice  cubes in his glass, so precise and modern, as was everything about this  bar, this hotel, this beautiful city.

Calabrese ordered a drink from the bartender, then sat back on the sleek  leather bar stool. "You learned a valuable lesson. Never put your  family ahead of yourself, kid. Take it from a man who knows."

That was true enough, Vin thought. Calabrese was supposedly estranged  from all three ex-wives and his four grown children, and he'd never even  met his only grandchild. He definitely didn't put his family ahead of  himself.

The gray-haired man tossed some bills on the glossy wooden bar, leaving a  huge tip, then glanced at Vin indulgently. "I know you'll take  Mediterranean Airlines to the top."

"That's the plan." Vin wondered how to get rid of him so he could order the second scotch he wanted in peace.

"As for me, I'm going to enjoy the big payout. Take life easy for a  while." He picked up his martini and looked across the room. "Maybe I'll  get married again. One of those girls could talk me into it."

Following his gaze, Vin saw a trio of beautiful young models-Asian, pale  blonde, dark-skinned brunette-sitting cozily on a white leather sofa by  the floor-to-ceiling windows, with Tokyo as their backdrop.

Smiling, Calabrese raised his martini glass in their direction. They giggled, rolling their eyes and whispering to each other.

"You want to get married again?" Vin said, astonished.

"Why not? A wife's cheaper than a mistress. As long as she signs a  pre-nup. Always make them sign. Take my advice." He winked. "If not for  your current marriage, for the next one."