Baby By Accident(40)
“What?” The echo of the shock she’d felt still reverberated inside. Never had she thought this marriage would be anything but a short-term fix until the baby had arrived. “Of course there will. After the baby is born.”
“Is that what you’ve been deciding in that scheming mind of yours?” His chuckle came like the snarl of a dark angel. “You can dismiss those thoughts.”
She’d resigned herself to the fact that Vico Mattare might occasionally swoop in to see his child after the divorce. Yet she hadn’t imagined it would be often and hadn’t imagined he’d object to how she wanted to raise her baby. This, though, this was a monstrosity she’d never conceived of in her darkest nightmares. “I’m not going to be married to you for the rest of my life.”
“Si, actually you will.” His eyes blazed with complete commitment to his statement. “My family doesn’t believe in divorce. And neither do I.”
“I don’t care what your family traditions are,” she said. “They aren’t mine.”
“They are now.” His gaze went languid as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Still, the tight knot in his jaw told a different story. “You will officially be a part of the Mattare family and thus, our traditions will be yours.”
Shooting him a glare, she’d paced to the window and stared out at the London skyline. The sight of the glass and steel structures surrounding them reminded her she wasn’t living in some seventeenth century Italian villa with some seventeenth century male dictator. “Wake up, Mattare,” she snapped over her shoulder. “This is the twenty-first century. I don’t have to slavishly follow your commands. I can get a divorce anytime I want.”
“No, you can’t.” He strode to his desk and lifted a file up. “I have that mortgage on your mother’s home, remember?”
“My mother will not live forever.” Swiveling to face him, she scowled. “I won’t be tied to you for the rest of my life. I won’t.”
“Maybe your sweet momma will not bless us with her presence eternally, siano rese grazie a Dio.” He leaned negligently on the edge of his desk. “But I would assume our child will live longer than we will.”
Folding her arms because she suddenly found herself trembling, she managed to keep her poise in front of his latent threat. “What do you mean by that?”
“Come, come.” He gave her a tiger smile. A smile that promised he could easily tear her limb from limb. “You are nothing if not intelligent. Use that brain and figure it out for yourself.”
“I want you to say it.”
“All right.” His smile held. “If you make a move to divorce me, I will use all my money and power to claim our child as mine. You will lose custody.”
The thought of not having her baby to hold and to love… “You are the worst human being I have—”
“And I will be your husband.” The smile finally fell off his face to be replaced by dogged determination. “Forever.”
She’d looked at him and realized this was another war lost.
No divorce. Ever.
No escape. Ever.
Nausea had inevitably followed and she’d slinked away, her pride cut into ribbons. Losing again and again had never, ever been a part of her existence. Quite the opposite. She’d won her parents’ grudging approval to go to university at sixteen. She’d won various awards for scholarship. She’d won a job at HSF Financial over her father’s objections. She’d won many battles to keep the firm afloat.
Only with this man did she continue to lose. Only with Vico Mattare.
The waiters looped through the tables with another course. A china bowl overflowing with cream covered fettuccini was placed before her. The rich smell of the food wafted upward with inevitable results.
Her new husband sighed once more. Swiped her plate once more.
She refused to thank him again. Refused to give any indication that his attentiveness and care was making a dent in her hate. Because it wasn’t.
“My lovely new daughter-in-law.” A firm pat on her shoulder made her turn around. His sprite of a mother beamed at her, dark-brown eyes sparkling. “We are all so happy.”
But I’m not and it’s my fairy-tale wedding.
Lise felt his gaze on her. Intense. Watchful. Predatory.
She must pretend.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” she offered begrudgingly. It was hard not to like his mother. She was a perfectly wonderful woman. In fact, his entire family appeared to be friendly and warm and caring. They might be a bit raucous. Still, they’d been egged on by him a few minutes ago.