An Inheritance of Shame - By Kate Hewitt Page 0,62

end would have happened, sooner or later. She’d just hurried it along.

That’s why you pushed him. You were still protecting yourself.

Trust was a choice, and she hadn’t trusted. She’d pushed Angelo towards an impossible ultimatum because she was still afraid he was going to walk away. So afraid—and so she’d made him.

She might have told him she was acting out of love, but she hadn’t been, not really. She’d been acting out of fear. She’d always been acting out of fear.

Gazing blindly at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, Lucia let out a choked sob. She had made a terrible mistake—and she didn’t know how or if she could fix it.

The last of the sun’s rays were streaking the sky, and just as before, the moment they’d faded the lights switched on, and the Eiffel Tower shone jewel-bright. She remembered how only last night Angelo had shown her, his eyes warm and bright with love. I’m so glad I saw it with you.

Why hadn’t she believed in that boy? Why hadn’t she given him the time, space and support to make the decision she knew he was capable of? Instead she’d pushed. She’d pushed him away.

And now she needed to get him back.

‘It’s not that we don’t trust Luca Corretti—’

‘Of course not. This is simply a good business decision.’ Angelo smiled coolly at the banker from Milan who would help to orchestrate his insider’s coup. With him he could convince the other shareholders to depose Luca as CEO and put him in his place. Corretti Designs would be his. Yet all he could think as he looked at the man’s paunchy face was traitor.

And all he could feel was emptiness.

He didn’t care about Corretti Designs. He knew adding another company to his portfolio wouldn’t appease any of the restless emotions inside him, the anger and the hurt and the need.

Only Lucia had done that. Only loving Lucia could do that now.

‘Signor…Corretti?’ The man stumbled slightly over his name. Angelo lifted his gaze, gave him another cool smile.

‘I have the document right here. We need six signatures—half of the board—on it before I can act accordingly.’

‘Of course.’

Resolutely Angelo pushed the paper over to the man. He watched him take out his fountain pen, scan the document that would give him control. He thought of Luca’s steely authority, the grudging admiration he’d felt for his cousin.

It’s not business. Not for you.

No, this had never been about business. Never about money or power or even revenge. It had been, he knew, just as Lucia had told him, about love. About wanting to be loved, accepted—and knowing that the Correttis never would.

But Lucia had. Lucia always had.

‘Don’t sign.’

The banker looked up in surprise. ‘Scusi?’

‘Don’t sign.’ Angelo smiled grimly. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

The man’s jaw slackened. ‘But…the company—’

‘Luca Corretti is perfectly capable of turning his company around if need be,’ Angelo said. ‘I don’t need to do it.’ He reached for the document and tore it neatly in half. ‘I don’t need to do any of this.’

With the man still staring at him in slack-jawed amazement Angelo rose from the table. ‘And now I’m afraid I must take my leave of you. I have a plane to catch.’

It had taken her the better part of a night and day to get back to Sicily. She didn’t have enough money for the airfare, and so she’d taken a train to Milan, another to Genoa and then a twenty-hour ferry to Palermo. By the time she arrived at the hotel she was exhausted, dirty and in desperate need of a bath and a hot meal. She pushed all of it aside in search of the one thing that truly mattered. Angelo.

The bellhops stepped back as she entered, eyes widening in surprise. Perhaps they didn’t recognise her as one of the chambermaids, and she certainly didn’t look like a guest.

The concierge came hurrying forward. ‘Scusi, signorina.’ Her eyes were flinty, her smile perfunctory. ‘May I help you?’

‘I’m looking for Angelo Corretti.’

‘I’m afraid he’s not available—’

‘I’ll just go see for myself.’ She strode past the woman who, she could see, was already calling security on a pager. Great. She’d get kicked out of the hotel and fired from her job. So be it. This was more important than any of those things.

She pressed the button for the lift, prayed it would come before security escorted her out. She saw two uniformed men heading towards her just as the doors pinged open—and Angelo stepped out.

The look of incredulous amazement on