“It happened a lot?” I ask softly.
She stares straight ahead, like she’s watching ghosts play out across the cabin wall. “He was an angry man,” she whispers. “And jealous. Insanely jealous.”
I want to pull her into me. I want to hunt down every bruise she ever watched happen and erase the memory of it. But I keep still.
“I’m sorry you witnessed all that,” I say.
She finally turns her eyes to mine. They’re glassy but determined. “I didn’t want to like him,” she admits. “I went there ready to hate him. But he was nice. And I know half an hour in a room doesn’t tell me who he is now. It doesn’t erase the fact heused to pin my mum by her hair and punch her until she passed out.”
Her breath shudders. My stomach twists.
“But for the first time in years, it felt like things might be okay,” she continues. “He seemed to care, as if he wants to protect me from everything that’s happened.”
The plane begins to accelerate down the runway, the engines deepening to a roar.
“I’m sure he’s always cared, Lee,” I tell her quietly. “Whatever happened between him and your mum doesn’t mean he didn’t love you. People can be broken and still love their children.”
She sighs. “I know. I just…I feel guilty for wanting a relationship with my own dad.”
Once we’re airborne, I signal for the airhostess and she saunters over smiling. “How can I help, Mr Baxter.”
“Champagne, please.”
“Are we celebrating?” Leoni asks.
I lean closer and kiss her gently. “I’m just happy, and I want to make the most of the next few days with you. No interruptions.”
She grins, tugging me back to her lips. “Umm, now what will you do with me, Mr Baxter?”
The villa belongs to my family.
It sits high in the hills, a pale stone fortress overlooking a small coastal town famous for its fishermen. Every morning, boats haul in fresh catches that feed the locals and half the neighbouring islands.Eighty percent of the area’s revenue comes from that harbour, at least, that’s what the tourist guides say.
The guides don’t mention the darker side. The part where this town, and three others along the coast, are run by my uncle.
Antonio Baxter.
One half of the Baxter empire. The half that stayed in Italy when the brothers split everything down the middle. Toni took Italy. My father claimed the UK. And neither has forgiven the other since.
So, when I reached out to Toni and asked for a meeting, he didn’t hesitate.Curiosity, caution, maybe even opportunity—whatever it was, it got his attention. He agreed. Without my uncle’s say-so, stepping onto his land would’ve been a mistake. A fatal one.
Leoni didn’t notice the uncomfortable exchange when Toni’s men greeted us off the plane, the stiff nods, the subtle sizing-up, the way they insisted on accompanying us to the villa heinsistedwe stay in. I don’t blame them. If Toni showed up in London unannounced, I’d do the same.
“Are they just gonna linger in the doorway?” Leoni asks, peering through the bedroom window. “Wow, the view is stunning. Well, apart from all the muscle out there.”
I join her, lifting the net curtain. Four men stand by the gates—silent, armed, statues carved from stone.
“It’s how they do things here,” I lie smoothly. “The man I’m meeting is high-profile. We’re in his guest house, so… precautions.”
She nods, accepting it without suspicion, and turns back to the room with a bright smile.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, trailing her fingertips over the dark oak frame of the four-poster bed.
“And after my meeting,” I murmur, checking the time, “we’re going to explore every room.” I wink as I grab my suit jacket, and she flushes. “Until then, rest. Take a bath, the view is insane from the tub.” I open the en-suite door, revealing the freestanding bathtub framed by floor-to-ceiling glass. Beyond it, endless mountains, drenched in golden afternoon light.
She gasps. “Wow.”
I press a kiss to her temple. “Enjoy. Be naked in two hours.”
