An Inheritance of Shame - By Kate Hewitt Page 0,60
Why do you think you still feel so restless and angry, even when you have all the power, all the wealth, you could possibly ever need or want? Why do still feel so empty?’
He stared at her hard, and she thought he might not answer. He might turn away, and then what would she do? How could she make him see how this was destroying him—and any chance their love had?
‘Why do you think that is?’ he finally asked evenly.
‘Because revenge doesn’t satisfy you, Angelo. Wealth, power, any of it—no matter how many companies you buy up, or how many Correttis you grind into the dust, you’ll still feel as empty as you did the night of your father’s funeral, when you came to me—’
‘Don’t.’
He rolled away from her, into a sitting position, so she was facing his taut back. Lucia sat up, clutching the duvet to her, knowing they had to have this conversation. The only way was through. ‘I must. Our love—any love—can’t survive this kind of cold-blooded destruction, Angelo. You have to let it go.’
‘It’s a business deal, Lucia.’
‘No, it’s not. It’s so much more than that. You might be able to tell Gio Corretti it’s just business, but you can’t lie to me. You’re doing this because you’re still the hurt little boy whose father wouldn’t acknowledge him, and you hate that.’
‘Of course I hate it,’ he snapped. He rose from the bed, reached for his trousers. ‘You think I want to feel like that again? You think I want to look into the Correttis’ sneering faces and see how they’ve dismissed me?’
‘And you think ruining them will achieve anything?’
‘Yes—’
‘No, Angelo,’ Lucia said quietly. ‘It won’t. It might make them respect you, but that’s not what you want.’
‘Oh?’ He turned to her, dressed only in his trousers, one eyebrow arched in cold incredulity. ‘What do you think I want, then?’
‘You want them to love you.’ She might as well have hit him. He jerked back as if she’d slapped his face. ‘And they won’t,’ she forced herself to continue. ‘You can’t make someone love you, Angelo. But I love you. I love you with all my heart, and it’s love that fills the emptiness, that feeds the hunger. Let my love be enough.’
Angelo didn’t respond. He stared at her, his face expressionless, every emotion veiled. Lucia held her breath and waited. What would she do if he said it wasn’t?
She would, she realised hollowly, leave him. She would have to.
‘Don’t make me choose,’ he finally said, and it was a warning.
‘And if I do?’
‘I said, don’t make me.’
‘Because you will choose revenge.’
‘It doesn’t have to be like that,’ he said, impatient now. He reached for his shirt and shrugged into it. ‘Dio, Lucia, you’re the one bent on destruction. Why are you trying to ruin what we have? It’s been good so far, hasn’t it?’
‘It’s been amazing,’ she whispered. ‘It’s been the most wonderful experience of my life.’
‘So why not just let it go? Why are you always asking for more of me?’
‘Because that’s what love does, Angelo.’ She choked back a sudden sob. ‘That’s what love is. You don’t love half a person. You love all of them, everything, and that’s how I want to love you. But I can’t—’
‘You can’t love me if I continue with this?’ he finished. ‘That sounds like conditional love to me, Lucia. That sounds like you trying to manipulate me as surely as I was trying to when I suggested you become my mistress. I wanted to put you in a compartment of my life, I see that now. In a nice, tidy little box. I wanted to manage you. Now you’re doing the same to me.’
‘It’s not like that,’ she insisted. Tears slipped down her face, cold and silent. ‘I’m trying to free you from the box you’ve put yourself in—’
He flung up one hand. ‘Enough. I’ve had enough of this ridiculous arguing. Dio, nothing I ever do will be enough for you.’
‘That’s not fair. I’ve never asked for any of this, Angelo. Not the diamonds or the clothes or money or trips to Paris. I just want you. The real you.’
‘This,’ Angelo said flatly, ‘is the real me.’ And then he turned and walked out of the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ANGELO GAZED MOODILY out the window of his private jet at a grimly cloud-laden sky. The weather had turned grey and cool and after the argument with Lucia last night it suited his mood perfectly. Although if the weather