Today, it was just the two of them enclosed in the back of his chauffeured car, on their way to the sprawling complex that housed the Espositos’ headquarters. This was the building Lorenzo had managed his legitimate empire from, refusing to move from his beloved Naples to where the action was in Milan. Whichever of his offspring eventually succeeded him, none of them was prepared to make the move either. Their empire stretched the whole of Italy and beyond, but Naples was their home and their heart (if an Esposito could even be said to have a heart). The headquarters was also the place Gabriella had spent her working life. For the first time since she’d married Tommaso, she would have to face the people she’d worked alongside. People who knew her. These people would not be oblivious to her spending her working hours playing chess and solitaire on a computer whose internet access was blocked.
The coolness of the air conditioning as they strode into the building made her glad that her new wardrobe was filled with such warm clothes, and made her wonder again how the man who’d gone to such effort – okay, paid someone to make the effort for him – in ensuring she had a wardrobe of clothes she would be warm, comfortable and happy in could be such a cruel bastard.
Tommaso had always been a popular figure in the Espositos’ headquarters. His weekly meetings with Lorenzo had been the highlight of many of the female staff’s lives. That Gabriella had never hidden her loathing of him had been the source of much amusement, and so she braced herself for the reaction they were likely to receive at their sudden marriage.
Their way up to the executive offices was like walking through a minefield of handshakes, slapped backs and lip smackers. Such was the enthusiasm that she experienced a twinge of guilt at the genuine well-wishes and the sadness it was all tied up in at the loss of Lorenzo, a twinge thatgrew unbearably when they reached the top floor and Fiorella abandoned the coffee machine to throw her arms around her.
“I am so happy for you!” the young administrator Gabriella had personally hired and mentored squealed. “I always knew you two would get together!”
“Consider yourself unique,” Gabriella commented, disentangling herself from a squeeze that was crushing her lungs.
“It was so obvious that you were nuts about him,” Fiorella confided loudly before her face dropped. “It’s just so sad that Lorenzo never lived to see it happen.”
“I’m sure he’s looking down on us and celebrating,” Tommaso cut in with a smile. “Has my office been organised?”
“It has.”
“Excellent. If you could bring me and my new wife a cup of coffee each, I will be forever grateful.”
Pink with pride, Fiorella bustled back to the coffee machine while Gabriella and Tommaso accepted the more restrained congratulations from the rest of the executive team.
To reach Tommaso’s office, which was at the far end of the floor, they had to pass Lorenzo’s office. The door Gabriella had walked through thousands of times was open. A sweeping glance as they passed it told her nothing had been touched since they’d left for Accardiano, and much as she wished she could deny it, there was a sudden wrench in her heart for the man she’d once loved like a father.
The door of the adjoining office that had been Gabriella’s was closed. “What happened to all my stuff?” she asked quietly.
He flashed her a smile with his teeth. “It’s been moved to your new office.”
Meaning it had all been moved to Tommaso’s office.
At least Siena couldn’t touch her if she was safely with Tommaso, she thought as they passed Siena’s office. Her doorwas closed, and Gabriella’s heart stuttered to think she might be in there now, dreaming up cruel ways to torment her. Unlikely, she knew. Rico had given Siena the casinos to run, and if she knew Siena, she would be stamping her authority all over them. Siena had fought to be taken seriously her whole life and would not throw away this opportunity to prove herself, especially if she wanted to be taken seriously as a contender for the next Don…or Donatella as she’d be known. Gabriella knew Siena better than anyone, and knew her only goal in life was to prove herself better than her brothers. For now, she was putting on the same united front that Mattia and Tommaso were displaying, proving to the world that the Espositos were still the same force they’d always been, but a new king would be appointed soon – a family meal was planned for the following weekend to formally decide Lorenzo’s successor – and Gabriella wouldn’t put it past Siena to snatch the crown for herself. An organisation like theirs, especially the shadowed part that mattered the most, could not run on democratic lines indefinitely.
Gabriella had only been in Tommaso’s office once, when he’d been safely out of the way in a meeting. She had, though, stood at its threshold numerous times over the years with messages or files for him and rudely refused to step inside. Now, as they neared that very threshold, a collection of memories filled her of the times she’d stood in it with her neck burning, sticking her middle finger up at him in response to the suggestive comments he always made to her.
She’d always walked back to her own office with the joints of her body feeling looser and a hot pulse beating between her legs.
It was a hot pulse that had been a constant since their dance in Accardiano, and it was beating now…but there was something else beating there too. A different kind of heat, tighter and crampier, and the memories skittered away as she counted back to her last period.
With a showman’s flourish, Tommaso pushed his office door open, and Gabriella crossed its threshold.
Although not as big as Lorenzo’s office, it was roughly the size of her apartment, and yet it seemed to have shrunk. Probably because of the new desk that now adjoined the old one. He’d had the same thing done in Milan, and probably Rome too, but that hadn’t had her personal effects neatly laid out on it.
She took her seat and reached for the photo of her mother with a trembling hand. It had been taken the Christmas before she’d received her diagnosis. Before Gabriella’s world had imploded. Before she’d learned the truth about Lorenzo, and still dreamed of marrying Tommaso.
She felt his gaze on her, but when she looked up, there was none of the coldness that had been a constant when they were alone since she’d told him the truth about their fathers. It was something that hadn’t been mentioned since, not in words. To let himself believe his father had murdered his best friend in cold blood was to accept his father hadn’t been the man he’d portrayed himself as to his family. It meant accepting that his father had lied to them, that the family honour that allowed no untruths to pass between them had been violated by the man who’d imposed that honour on them all.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you okay?”
She sniffed back tears and nodded, and then, without any warning, another memory danced into her vision, of Lorenzo, Valeria and Siena collecting her from the hospital after her mother had finally passed to take her home with them. The two girls had clung together the whole drive back. Gabriella had walked into the Espositos home with so many emotions she could hardly breathe, and Tommaso had appeared. He hadn’t said a word, just padded over, wrapped his strong arms around her and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
How had she forgotten that?
She’d grieved her mother for nine years. Tommaso’s father had been dead only weeks.
“I’m sorry that you’re hurting,” she whispered. “Truly sorry.”
The power of his stare intensified.
She swallowed. “The pain never leaves you, but it does get easier to breathe through it. I promise.”
