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Outside the window, the Venetian skies were grey and cloudy, though the forecast was much better for tomorrow when the big stunt would take place. Even just the thought of it made Marco’s heart race, and he knew he needed to put Gina out of his mind and focus on his work. He increased the speed on the treadmill, put his head down and ran, determined to block out the world and feel nothing except the physical exertion.

Issy marched down the corridor towards Brad’s suite. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say or do, but some instinct had propelled her out of her bed and towards his room. Before she could give herself time to think about what she was doing, or talk herself out of it, she rapped on the door.

It opened almost immediately and Issy jumped. Lexi was standing there, the ice queen looking as immaculate as ever in a denim jumpsuit that emphasized her long, slender legs and handspan waist. Issy wished she’d made an effort, instead of storming down to the room. Then again, even if she’d had a year to prepare, she would never look as stunning as Lexi Parker with her glowing skin and perfect features.

‘Issy.’ Lexi’s tone was cool. ‘Can I help you with something?’

‘Yes. No. I mean, I wanted to speak to Brad.’

‘He’s filming,’ Lexi explained. ‘He won’t be back until late. Shouldn’t you know that? I thought you were all over his diary,’ she drawled, and Issy caught the sarcasm in her tone.

Does she know I changed the schedules?

Issy gathered herself, determined not to be intimidated. ‘Well perhaps you and I should have a chat,’ she suggested smoothly.

Lexi’s full lips pursed tightly, her beautiful face creasing into an expression of distaste. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, moving to close the door on Issy.

‘I know you’re having an affair with Jacob Scott,’ Issy blurted out.

Lexi stopped abruptly. Her eyes turned cold, but Issy could almost see her mind working quickly. She glanced up and down the corridor to see if anyone had overheard, but it was deserted. ‘Well then,’ Lexi said tightly. ‘You’d better come in.’

Marco stood beneath the hot water of the gym shower, enjoying the feeling of it pounding over his body, his muscles taut as he soaped himself clean. He’d wanted to push himself harder, but he didn’t want to exhaust himself before tomorrow, he reflected, as he stepped out and dried himself, changing into casual clothes for the short walk home.

He was looking forward to seeing Daniela, he thought, as he pulled on his jacket and walked out of the gym. Rosina was collecting her from school, and the two of them should be getting home any moment, so—

‘Marco!’

Marco looked around as he heard a familiar voice call his name. And then he spotted him. Edoardo was leaning against one of the ornate lampposts, seemingly oblivious to the crowds rushing past him. Something about his demeanour told Marco he was drunk.

‘Edoardo? What are you—’

‘Francesca told me you were here,’ he slurred. His eyes were dark and unfocused, yet glittering like chips of ice. ‘I called into the office to see you, but she told me you’d left already to go to the gym.’

‘Yeah,’ Marco replied slowly, wondering what was going on.

‘Nice, easy life for you, huh?’ Edoardo replied in a sing-song voice laden with bitterness. ‘A couple of hours pushing papers around a desk, then a sauna and massage, right? You don’t know what it’s like to do a hard day’s work, do you? You just get everything handed to you on a plate.’

Marco paused, knowing he had to tread carefully. Edoardo was clearly drunk and behaving irrationally. ‘Hey, Edoardo, shall we go somewhere to talk about this?’ Marco suggested, extending his arm to try and shepherd Edoardo away from the bustling streets.

‘Get your fucking hands off me,’ Edoardo hissed. ‘Unless you want a black eye before your big day tomorrow?’

Marco doubted Edoardo could land a hit on him right now, given the fumes of whisky that were emanating from him. He turned and walked away, calculating that Edoardo would either leave him alone, which was fine by Marco, or follow him, so Marco could lead him to quieter area where he was less likely to make a fool of himself. He’d barely taken a few steps before he heard Edoardo calling after him and realized he’d opted for the latter.

‘How did you do it, hmm?’ Edoardo asked, in a voice that was almost a snarl.

Marco turned and frowned. He’d led him down a side street that ended by a canal; a dead end, like the one where he’d first met the mysterious woman on the opening night of Carnival. A chill breeze whistled along the passageway; they were in shadow, shielded from the sunlight, and the February wind was bitingly cold. ‘What do you mean?’

‘My family. Every single one of them is on your side. You turned all of them against me.’

Marco shook his head. ‘No, that’s not true.’

‘Stephana. Daniela. My father. Even my mother defends you over me. How did you do it, Marco? How long have you been planning this?’

Marco sighed. He was tired of trying to assuage Edoardo’s paranoia, of listening to his alcohol-fuelled rants, of being blamed for everything that had gone wrong in his brother-in-law’s life. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he retorted, his patience finally snapping.

‘Is that what you thought when you first met Stephana? That you could wheedle your way into the family, take over the business, push out the only son? You’re like a cuckoo in the nest, Marco.’

‘Stop it, Edoardo.’