Her mouth dropped open. “I’m sure that can’t be true.”
Matteo stared out at the horizon, his back ramrod straight. He was silent for so long she thought she’d pushed him too far. Then he dropped his hands between his knees. “Giancarlo was everything to me. My brothers, we’re close, but I’ve never had the bond with them Giancarlo and I had. We grew up in Montalcino together, both of us groomed to be powerful men with the accompanying responsibility. Giancarlo became the CEO of one of Europe’s largest car companies, a star of the corporate world, and I was running De Campo’s European operations. We had power, money and youth. We were on top of the world. Drunk on our success...”
“Power can be an intoxicating thing.”
He turned to look at her. “Giancarlo didn’t handle it well. He drank too much, drove too fast, partied too hard. Maybe it was in his blood, I don’t know. He had an alcoholic father with a high-flying job who managed to bury his issue under his success for years. It was not a good example. G told himself he could handle it, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t recognize his limits like the rest of us.”
A chill settled over her. “Was he drinking the night of the accident?”
“Si.” His hands curled into fists between his knees, a dark glitter entering his eyes. “I was annoyed with Riccardo for always handcuffing me, for holding me back from the things I wanted to do with the company. He didn’t think I was ready and I knew that I was. So to spite him, to blow off some steam, I went on a tear with Giancarlo in Monte Carlo. We partied hard, won a lot of money, had more than a few women hanging off us willing to divest us of it. But at some point, my rational brain kicked in and I suggested we leave. G insisted we have one more drink to finish the night off...”
Her stomach rolled, pitched in a sickening twist. “That’s why you reacted like that when Daniel pushed the drink on you.”
His olive skin took on a white sheen. “Cognac was G’s drink of choice...or perhaps I should say his weapon of choice.” He shook his head. “I should have shut him down. I should have known it would put him over the edge. Instead I got caught up in the competitive thing we always had going on, had the drink and suggested a race back to our hotel.”
“After drinking like that?” She couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice.
He nodded jerkily. “I was out of control. We were out of control. We left—took different routes back to the hotel, and when I got there, G wasn’t there.” The blank expression on his face made her blood go cold. “I knew. I knew right away.”
She put a hand to her mouth. “He’d crashed.”
Matteo nodded. “I backtracked. He’d taken a one-way street the wrong way and wrapped his car around a tree. When I found him, the police were there, but there was nothing we could do to save him. He died in front of me while we waited for the ambulance.”
Quinn’s heart contracted. “Oh, God, Matteo—”
“He wasn’t paying attention to any of the women that night.” He went on, tonelessly. “He told me he was in love with his girlfriend, Zara. That he wanted to marry her and settle down and become a father because he knew this life we were leading was crazy. And he wanted better than what he’d had.” His gaze moved to hers, a flash of agony darkening the emptiness. “A few weeks ago, I saw Zara’s engagement announcement. That she’s marrying someone else.”
Quinn’s throat swelled, thickened, until it was physically hard to get the words out. “You were both out of control, Matteo. You cannot blame yourself for what happened.”
“I was the stronger one.” He lifted his chin, the brief glimpse of pain she’d seen dissipating into cold, hard steel. “I should have known better. I could have saved him.”
She took his jaw in her fingers, her eyes burning. “You can’t save other people. We have to fight our own demons.”
His jaw twitched under her fingers. “I should have done better. I will do better from now on. It will be my legacy to him.”
A tear slid down her face. “You’re a good man, Matteo. You have to believe that. I’m sure if Giancarlo could see you now, he would be so proud of you.”
He was silent, the dying rays of the sun lighting the hard contours of his face. “Why should I get to be vibrant and enjoy the best years of my life when he is gone? I don’t know if I can ever accept that.”
She shifted closer to him, swung her leg over his, straddled him and brought his face to hers, the tears streaming down her face now. “Because somewhere up there he wants you to. Because the only tragedy worse than what’s happened already would be for you to spend your life grieving for him instead of honoring him.”