Because even if she could accept that she’d made a practical decision for all the right reasons, she certainly never should have fallen in love with the biggest manwhore of all time.
That was the part that was inexcusable.
The thing she really should have remembered, all throughout their time on Capri, was that Giaco was particularly talented in playing a role.Of courseshe thought he was falling in love the way she was. What was the man but a mirror? He showed everyone he encountered exactly what they wanted to see.
Once she accepted that unpleasant truth, clarity was simple.
And something like urgent.
She left the villa, taking nothing with her but a change of clothes, and didn’t contact any of Umberto’s or Giaco’s people. Why bother, when she didn’t intend to involve herself with Umberto or Giaco after this. She walked to the Piazzetta, a long and pretty amble down from the villa, and then took the funicular down to the bright and colorful marina. Once there, she got herself a coffee in her favorite café and considered her options.
She’d known all along that Giaco was like a drug and yet she’d imbibed freely. He’d been slightly more than the oversexed clown he played for the tabloids, just slightly more human, and she’d dropped her guard completely.
As if she hadn’t grown up in that castle, subject to his little reigns of terror every time he’d come home and turned things inside out. Simply because he could.
“You’re a mess,” she muttered to herself.
How had she managed to forget that she hated that man?
She boarded the first ferry she could, but she had no plans to go on to Rome once she made it to Naples. Instead, Ivy did the exact same thing that she’d done five years ago. She figured if it cured her once, it would again. She bought herself a ticket in the airport and flew home.
Not the home that she’d been so sure, secretly, that she and Giaco were building together. But the one she’d made for herself, to save herself, once before.
Ivy landed at Heathrow on a grim, rainy sort of summer day and told herself it was a great comfort after the glare of all that Mediterranean sunshine. She slogged her way onto the Tube, and only remembered when she walked from the Tube station nearest to her road that there might very well be paparazzi hanging around when she got to her house. But when she drew closer, she allowed herself a deep breath because she didn’t see anything that would suggest that.
After all, it had been a while. Paparazzi were no doubt off somewhere, eating out of Giaco’s hand. If she really fancied it, she could look him up online and see where he was, what he was doing, and who he was doing it with—
Yet surely that was a recipe for misery.
Because even though she knew how he choreographed his appearances, she also knew how convincing his act was. Why would she want to see it?
“Why do youwantto see it?” she snapped at herself, and realized then that she was lurking on her road, talking to herself, and would likely scare the neighbors into calling the paparazzi themselves.
She let herself into her house and then stood there, leaning with her back against the door. It was quiet and dim inside and she told herself that she could breathe at last, but when her lungs didn’t seem to respond to that the way she thought they should, she decided she was simply exhausted. Ugly tired, even. She went upstairs, wrinkling her nose because her house didn’t smell right anymore. It didn’t smell likehers. It smelled musty and shut up and very much like it belonged to a stranger.
Ivy decided that, too, had something to do with how deeply exhausted she was. She ran a bath, had a soak, and then put herself to bed.
But she dreamed of Giaco and woke restless and yearning time and time again throughout the night.
In the morning it wasn’t bucketing it down outside, but it was still gray. She rummaged about for some kind of breakfast in her kitchen, but Giaco’s people had cleared everything out when they’d swept her off all those months ago. She had to make do with a bit of instant coffee and some dry crackers.
Rather a comedown from the magically stocked villa, she had to admit.
She walked to the charity’s offices, picking up a proper coffee on the way, and decided that it perked her up considerably even if it wasn’t quite the same as thecaffè shakeratoshe’d become enamored with on Capri. Ivy felt much better almost at once, and told herself that in no time she would have her life back and running the way she liked it. Thoughts of Giaco would fade over time, or until she was presented with a new itinerary, and they would manage their marriage that way until they were done.
Ivy was caffeinated andlooking forwardto throwing herself into work so she could hasten this process along.
But once she arrived at the charity, she found that everything was running swimmingly without her. Exactly as she’d planned all along, having gone out of her way to hire the very best people to do this work that she continued to feel was so important.
The last time she’d needed to escape the Tavian family, she’d created the charity. It had taken all of her time and attention.
It hadn’t really occurred to her that she wouldn’t have that option this go-round.
“Did you really come here without that delicious husband of yours?” asked one of her directors, smiling wide. “We were sure we’d get an inside peak at all that marital bliss since we know you.”
“I’m afraid not,” Ivy had to respond, with a little laugh and a big smile, neither of which she felt.There you go, a voice inside whispered.Apparently you’re just as much a liar as he is.“He couldn’t accompany me this time.”
And after planning to go and make herself useful for the whole day, she found herself leaving again after an hour and finding herself roaming around Central London, as damp and gloomy as the weather.
