“We candiscussit,” she replied. “But first, I need a little space to think this through.”
He must have heard the determination in her voice because he didn’t push further.
Catarina had little memory of the landing or the silent car ride back to her home in Massimo’s Ferrari. He didn’t even look her way when she climbed out of the car, and she told herself that it didn’t hurt, that this is what she had wanted. Space to think. She climbed the front steps of her family home and entered through the intricately carved doors. Gianluigi, their butler, greeted her with a deferential nod as she walked through a vast hall, with its high, vaulted ceilings and plaster flourishes, along the deep red carpet that trailed down the center. She passed one heavy wooden door, then another, pausing as she came to the doorway to her father’s office, then continuing through the familiar halls until she came to her suite. She opened the door and found everything exactly as she’d left it. The delicate covers and pillows were neatly arranged on an antique bed, and her collection of childhood books sat on the corner shelf, next to her reading chair. It was all achingly familiar, and yet the room didn’t bring her the relief she’d expected. It felt as if it belonged to a distant version of herself.
The past few days with Massimo, she had argued with him, slept with him, stood up to him and, most painful of all, fallen for him. But somehow, this journey had all become a discovery of herself, too. She couldn’t stay here. In fact, she should have moved out long ago, she realized.
So she closed the door to her room and walked through the hallways, thinking of all the people in the world who lived in cages of one form or another, cages that were imposed on them by others. She was not one of those people. It occurred to her that, at this point in her life, the cage she was in was actually self-imposed. The risk of disappointing her father had coaxed her to avoid conversations with him about what truly would make her happy. She had made that decision herself out of fear, out of wanting to please and honor her parents. But as she walked through the hallways, she vowed not to stay in this cage of her own making any longer. Had it always been this easy to push open the door and fly? Or had the hindrance been less about flying itself and more about what she wanted to do once she was free?
Catarina came to a stop in front of the door of her father’s office again. This time, she knocked.
“Come in.” Her father’s voice was a familiar gruff bark, and when she opened the door, she found that he did not look the least bit surprised to see her.
“Massimo told me you would be arriving shortly,” he said, treating her to a hint of a smile that so rarely came these past few years. “I hear wedding plans will be sooner than expected.”
Massimo had clearly called her father, just another move to ensure she acted according to his will. Even after she had told him she was open for negotiations. Why did his betrayal surprise her?Because you’re still hoping for more from him. But this betrayal cut too deep. He was pushing her too far.
“I have not agreed to the marriage yet, Papa,” Catarina said, and her voice was stronger than she expected. “I want to move to the flat in Milan this afternoon.”
Her father blinked at her, as if this was the last thing he had expected her to say. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, and she felt the bars of the gilded cage around her rattle. The sun hovered behind him, casting shadows on his face, and she noted the lines and wrinkles, the gray streaks in his hair that seemed to multiply daily. She used to see him as a man who outsized the world, but since her mother’s death, he had grown smaller. He was growing older. She felt an intense love for him, a closeness despite the fact that he would probably never understand her.
“I know you want what’s best for me,” she continued. “It must have been hard to watch me struggle with Mama’s death.”
He turned away, as if even hearing these words was too much, but not before she saw hints of devastation he was trying to hide from her. Her mother’s death had left her so afraid of the grief-shaped hole inside her that she had retreated from her own life. It was no wonder her father had grasped at something, anything, to try to help her.
“You are all I have left, my love,” he said, and finally, he turned back to her. For the first time since her mother’s funeral, she saw tears welling in his eyes. Her own lips trembled.
“I’m going to be all right. I will make sure of it.” As she spoke these words, she could feel they were true. Even though everything hurt right now. Even though she had no idea what her future looked like, she would make sure she was all right. For the baby, if there was one, and for herself. “I need to do this on my own.”
“Whatever you need, it is yours,” he finally said. “I will alert the staff to your arrival.”
As she walked out of his office, her hand came to her stomach. For the first time, she was on her own. Being alone had become her worst fear, and she had to face it before she made any more choices about her life. Especially since a pregnancy would mean she wouldn’t be alone for much longer, no matter what happened with Massimo.
Chapter Ten
MASSIMO STARED ATthe photo on page ten of this week’s edition ofGentemagazine. Someone had taken the picture on the tarmac of the airport where they’d landed, and it showed Massimo escorting Catarina into his Ferrari. He hadn’t even thought to scan the area for paparazzi. He had been too focused on Catarina, and the look on his face in the photo was undeniable proof of the level of his distraction. It was obscene. Never had Massimo looked as much like his father usually did, fawning after his mother.
The conversation on that plane ride had dragged up emotions that should have stayed buried. And yet, he had found himself reopening old wounds for her, leaving him raw enough to let himself look at her likethat. He needed to secure this marriage and then stay far away from Catarina. This was no longer simply strategy; it was the only way he could hold himself together. Clearly. And the baby? He had nine months to figure out how to handle that. For now, he needed to focus on the present.
For the past three days since their return, his assistant had combed the press, searching for any leaks of their broken engagement dinner. There had been mild speculations, of course, but this was different. This was much worse. The magazine arrived at the conclusion that there were clandestine motives at work, and he didn’t bother reading further. To quiet whatever rumors circulated, he and Catarina needed to appear publicly as soon as possible. She had tentatively agreed to their engagement dinner, and following through on it would solve this current problem. Except Catarina had not responded to the seven messages he had left on her phone this morning.
Massimo tossed the magazine onto his desk and paced back and forth in his office. He glanced at the phone on his desk, tempted to call her once more. Instead, he stormed out the door and into Alessandro’s office. He found his brother holding a different magazine, folded back to a page with the same photo. Massimo scowled.
Alessandro looked up from the magazine and studied him long enough to make Massimo squirm. He did not like to be studied, and certainly not by his brother, who seemed to be able to read his thoughts too well for comfort.
“She won’t answer her phone,” he thundered.
“You said she would contact you when she knew more.” His brother’s voice was maddeningly calm. “I agree your powers in this world are vast, but as far as I know they do not extend to speeding up the natural revelation of a pregnancy.”
“Nor do I expect that,” Massimo bit out. “But at least she could…”
His voice trailed off as he tried to capture the frustration that plagued him. Though Catarina had been correct in pointing out that waiting another week would not cause any more or less scandal, neither of them had foreseen this new development.
“It’s quite a romantic candid shot of you,” said Alessandro, his voice filled with irony. “You do, in fact, look…what’s the word they used?” He glanced down at the magazine. “Ahh, here it is. Devoted.”
Massimo could hear the censure in his brother’s comments. The proposed marriage was supposed to quell speculations about the brothers’ personal lives, not stoke them. Clandestine getaways with reclusive heiresses hardly presented a stable front. And if the paparazzi heard whispers of a pregnancy out of wedlock? They were doomed.
“Fix this, Massimo.” His brother’s voice was insistent. “There are other ways of getting in contact. You could go to her.” Alessandro must have seen the way he stiffened because his brother added, “Or you could call her father.”
