by Lia Lee
In the morning, however, she was awakened to the smell of buttery, perfect croissants and an apologetic Marco, fully dressed and kissing her goodbye.
"I'm sorry," he said with chagrin. "I need to be in Venice today, and no one told me until the last minute, more's the pity."
"Oh, Venice, what a trial for you," Briony said, unable to keep a wistful sigh out of her voice.
He chuckled. "It's the off-season anyway. Next time, I'll take you and Eva, and we'll make a weekend of it. Right now, though, I'm on my way out, and I might be gone for two, even three days. Why don't you take Eva to the city if you're bored? Do some shopping, buy her some clothes."
"She's a baby," she said, slightly scandalized. "There's already plenty of clothes that you ordered before we got here, and they certainly still fit."
"A man likes his girls turned out nicely," Marco said with a grin that told her he wasn't serious. "Go, have some fun. I'll be back to you as soon as I can."
Briony figured she was just going to stay around the palace honestly, spending time with Eva and perhaps exploring the grounds, but that was when Seanan called.
"Darling, I've missed you so," her sister trilled. "Come to the city! Let me see my favorite niece, and let's catch up on everything!"
Then of course, she had to pack things up and head for the city, driven by Marco's faithful driver. She was excited to see her sister, and maybe the days without Marco wouldn't be so bad after all.
Of course, three days later, everything changed.
***
Marco did his due diligence as the prince of Florence, but it was obvious to him that at the moment his heart wasn't in it. He loved his city, but the truth was that he simply loved Briony more.
There was no question about it in his mind, absolutely none. He loved Briony, and every moment he spent with her, he could barely stop himself from saying the words. It was a good thing that soon enough, he wouldn't have to stop himself.
The men of his family had always had a tradition of presenting their women with showstopper rings, ones that were devastatingly beautiful and rare. The jewelry maker in Florence had been working for weeks, and the ring would finally be ready when he came back through Florence on his way home.
The jeweler's shop was on an obscure corner in the city, a place frequented only by the rich and the famous. The jewelry maker's family had served the popes and dukes of Italy, and when she handed him the engagement ring, he could see why. It was a stunning, pigeon blood ruby set in rose gold, surrounded by a halo of pale green diamonds. It was a work of art, and Marco knew that when he saw Briony next, it would be time.
Of course, he didn't expect to find her in the streets of Florence, kissing another man.
He had barely stepped out of the jewelry shop when he saw a familiar flash of chestnut hair. He slowed, stunned by recognition, and watched from several houses away as Briony got out of the taxi cab and mount the stairs to one of the fashionable townhouses nearby.
It was hard to see her face; there was no way to read her expression. She kept glancing around, as if she was afraid of being caught, and Marco's first instinct was to comfort her, to swoop in and protect her from whatever was making her so anxious.
As soon as she gained the top step, however, he realized the source of her fear. The door swept open, and a handsome blond man stepped out. Marco recognized him immediately, Paolo Olivetti, Hollywood's new Italian sensation.
Marco's mind kept ticking along like a machine, marking who the man was, how he tugged the woman into his grasp, kissed her with savagely tender need, and crushed her against his body. It kept going even as his heart seemed to shatter in his chest.
A dozen different urges seemed to seize him. He wanted to go tear Briony out of the man's arms. He wanted to shake her. He wanted her to explain how it was all a mistake.
Instead, Marco got into his car and started to drive. The ring box was a hard lump in his pocket. It had cost more than a well-off man might make in a year, but suddenly he wanted to fling it down a well.
He didn't do that.
Instead, he turned his car towards one of the clubs he used to frequent years ago, a place that loved his wealth and his fame more than any other. As he paid for the first round, he could feel something hot and grieved well up inside him, but he knew that if he kept drinking, he wouldn't have to feel it at all.
***
Briony had sent Paz away for the day, jostling Eva on her hip as she checked her phone again. When Marco was late returning from his business in Venice, she had contacted him, but ever since then, his responses had been short and curt to the point of rudeness. She only knew he was coming back tonight because one of the maids had mentioned turning out his bed.
While he had been gone, it was too difficult to keep sleeping in the big bed alone, so she had moved back to her own quarters. Now that he was on his way home, she was relieved to have things return to where they used to be.
She was still in her own quarters when she heard his familiar step in the hall.
"Papa's home," she told her daughter sleeping against her shoulder, and she grinned to see her daughter rouse briefly at the words before settling into sleep again.
Was there a pause before he opened the door? She had just enough time to wonder about it before Marco opened it. There was a happy greeting on Briony's lips, but then she saw Marco's face and gasped.
"Marco! What's the matter?"
"You're here. Good.” His voice was as deadly as a saber. "Do not come to my quarters again."
"Marco, what is it?"
"You know very well what it is," he snapped. "Don't lie about your affairs, there's nothing worse than a woman caught in her lies and trying to escape it."
The words struck her like a blow, making Briony gasp aloud. Her sound woke up Eva, who uttered a thin and fretful cry.
Marco's eyes widened at their daughter's distress, and she saw him start forward before he forced himself back. Somehow, that was scarier than anything else.
"Marco," she murmured, reaching for him, but he stepped back as if he was afraid her touch would somehow contaminate him.
"Don't touch me," he spat. "You've lost the right."
With no more words, he stormed out, leaving Briony alone and afraid with a crying baby.
***
Briony slept poorly that night, but she was hopeful that the next day could bring about some kind of solution. Instead, she woke up to find Paz swabbing the inside of Eva's mouth with a cotton swab.
"What are you doing?" she asked, though she had an idea.
"Something His Highness asked me to do," Paz said, turning crimson. "He wanted this delivered to him as soon as possible.” She dropped the swab inside a sterile Zip-lock bag, and even if Paz had no idea what was going on, Briony did.
He was investigating whether Eva was really his daughter.
"Stay with Eva, I will be right back," Briony said, gathering her robe a little more tightly around her.
She dashed down the hall to Marco's quarters, her chest a fearful turmoil of anger and fear. How dare he? How dare he come and make terrible accusations, how dare he imply that their beloved daughter wasn't his?
She was so full of fire that she thought she might explode upon seeing him. His door was locked, but he had given her a key long ago. Briony entered his quarters full of fury, but quickly, she realized he wasn't there. She walked through the entire place, but it was echoingly empty.
She started to leave, but then she saw a stack of papers piled haphazardly on the table. It was unlike Marco to leave papers out like that. He was usually meticulous about things like that.
She drifted closer, a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, and then she realized what she was looking at. They were in both Italian and English, and her blood froze as she read.
The words swam in front of her eyes.
Custody arrangements.
Full custody.
Unfit.
Paid an annuity to keep her distance f
rom Eva Bianchi...
Briony felt as if she was nailed to the floor, and then the savage anger that had been building up in her exploded. She swept the papers off the table, and she stormed back to her apartment, where she dismissed Paz.
The girl went with wide eyes, but Briony had no time to waste. If Marco wasn't in his quarters, he wasn't in the palace. That would work to her advantage. He wasn't going to suspect her of moving so fast. He might not think she was able to do so.
He was a fool.
If Marco thought he could take her daughter away from her, he was wrong, and now she would prove exactly how wrong he was.
She had money, and after packing a few things into a diaper bag, she put on a simple, clean dress and lifted Eva onto her hip. She found her way down to the stables where she had gone often after it was discovered that Eva loved horses, and she smiled her sweetest at the oldest groom.
"I was just thinking how nice it would be to go to town today, and Eva would love a ride on the truck, don't you think?"
Chapter Fourteen
Marco blinked when he realized there was someone pounding on the door. For a moment, he was content to simply let the pounding go until it stopped, but after a few moments, he realized it was going to do no such thing.
The pounding continued, echoing the pounding in his head until his choices were either to suffer or stop it. He staggered out of bed wearing only a pair of jeans. He was faintly surprised at how clearheaded he had been, given how much he had drunk the night before.
He made his way to the door, kicking aside the custody papers that he had left there. It had been four days since Eva and Briony had disappeared.
Marco knew it was his duty to go after them, to at least retrieve the girl who was meant to be his successor to the throne of Florence, but there was nothing in him except a boiling rage at Briony. He didn't want to know what he would do if he saw her again.
Other men might have been afraid of violence, but for Marco, he was more afraid of his heart. He was afraid of falling down onto his knees in front of her and begging, demanding to know why she had done such a thing. If she would come back.
His pride refused, and so now he was staggering towards whatever damn fool was behind the door and who would not stop knocking.
He opened the door with a snarl and was confronted by a head of bright chestnut hair and a flash of sweet blue eyes.
She came back...
His instincts had been right, because without a pause, he seized her in his arms, dragging her close to his chest. She shoved him away, which was unexpected, and she swore at him, which was even more unexpected.
"What the hell are you doing? Where's my sister?" Seanan demanded.
He had to shake his head and look again. Seanan, not Briony, and he growled.
"You should know better than I do where your damned sister is," he snapped, and her eyes narrowed. She was a small woman, but now something protective and enraged came over her features.
"Start talking and start talking now," she said. "I didn't come here just to see you, and the staff says she and Eva are gone? What the hell?"
Marco glared, something that had set grown men to fear, but Seanan brushed right past him, coming in and looking around with distaste.
He shrugged, because he wasn't in any mood to sugarcoat things for this woman.
"She met up with a damn movie star behind my back," he snarled. "She cleared out before I could confront her about it, like a coward."
Seanan stared at him, and there was nothing but a white heat in her eyes. "This movie star? Was it Paolo Olivetti? In the gem district, at his flat there? Last Thursday?"
Marco fell silent, stunned, and Seanan nodded her head with disgust. She pulled a handful of paper scraps out of her purse. He could see the ticket stubs there as she separated them out and thrust them at him.
"You did this before, you know," she said witheringly. "I'm not my sister, and I was visiting my lover that day. I suppose I got a little caught up with him, but I came here to surprise Bri with a visit, and maybe to spend some time getting your measure too. I can say right now, I'm not impressed."
He flinched as hot shame poured through him. The realization of what had truly happened broke his mind, and Briony's face when he had come in to speak to her that night broke his heart. She had every right to refuse to see him again, but the desperation grew in his throat, making him turn to Seanan.
"Do you know where she's going to go?"
She looked at him scornfully. "So you can go hurt her some more? Beg her to take you back?"
He shook his head. "Never. To apologize. To tell her what a fool I have been. To offer her all the money she needs to care for Eva if she wishes, to see what she wants to do next."
He stopped, hands open.
"To give her a choice. To tell her I was wrong."
For a moment, he thought Seanan would spin on her heel and leave. He wondered dazedly how much angrier Briony might be if he grabbed Seanan and forced her to tell him where her sister was, but thankfully Seanan thawed.
"All right. Best thing you could have said there, I think. I believe I know where she ran to."
***
Chicago, Briony thought, was the opposite of both LA and Florence, and that was appropriate for her mood.
The loft apartment was slightly chilly, but other than that, it was perfect for her at the moment. She would have welcomed the chatter of Oliver, the apartment’s owner and a good friend of Seanan’s and hers. But as Oliver had told her over email, he was touring with the rest of the ballet company he danced with and would be gone for another two months.
But of course you can stay! Get the key from the lady next door, I'll phone her and let her know to give it up. Best cure for a broken heart is some quiet!
Quiet was right. She wondered if it was her imagination that Eva was so quiet since they had come to Chicago. The Midwest fall was setting in with a vengeance, and the tall windows looked out over a sky that was mostly gray. It was only two in the afternoon, but there were already speckles of rain on the glass, with a distant rumbling promising more to come.
She knew she should try to do something, get her life back on track, but Briony felt numb. All she did was care for Eva; she couldn't even muster up the energy to call her sister.
Almost as if her thoughts had summoned her sister, she got a text from Seanan.
This is your warning.
She wondered what it meant, and then the doorbell chimed. A tide of gratitude poured through her. Seanan would make her feel better, help her decide what to do, but when she opened the door, she realized it wasn't Seanan at all.
It was Marco.
She started to close the door in his face, but he stuck his hand in, forcing it open.
"You can't be here, I don't want to see you," she babbled, backing away.
There was no rage on his face, only a hurt and pain that was almost worse. She couldn't let him in, though. If she did and he hurt her again like that, she wasn't sure if she would be able to take it. If she would survive.
"Don't...please don't," he said softly. "I'm here to tell you a few things. You don't have to speak to me again if you don't wish to, just listen."
She subsided, holding herself tight. She shook as if she had a fever. She watched as he took a sealed envelope out of his jacket pocket.
"These are the results of the paternity test for Eva and I."
She blinked as he tore it into a dozen pieces and dropped it to the ground.
"I don't care what they say. You told me Eva is mine. I believe you, and I love her. She will be the princess of Florence when she is grown.
"I made a terrible mistake, Briony. I...thought you had betrayed me. I thought you had gone to meet a lover in Florence."
"Why would you..?"
"Because I am a fool," he said hoarsely. "Your sister set me straight, not that she had to. I am grateful, however. Please, will you listen to me a little longer?"
She nodded, tears welli
ng up in her eyes.
"I love you," he said, the confession coming from deep in his chest. "God, I love you, and if you will allow me, I will make you my wife. I will apologize to you for this every day of our lives if you wish, and I will spend the rest of my life living for your pleasure if you will allow it.
"I love you, and please, marry me, Briony."
She gasped and stared in wide eyed shock, but Marco wasn't done.
"And if you can't because I am a fool, just let me tell you this. Regardless of your answer, I have been proved wrong. You have acted with far more character than I have. So has your sister. All I can do now is hope to learn my lessons on how to behave with integrity from you."
To Briony's shock, he knelt in front of her, offering up a velvet ring box.
She couldn't stop herself any longer. She pushed his hand aside and threw herself into his arms, kneeling with him.
"Oh god, you hurt me so," she sobbed. "You hurt me, and you thought that horrible thing about me..."
"Can you ever forgive me?" he rumbled. "Please, if you do, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
"Just love me," she whispered, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Love me as much as I love you, for the rest of our lives, please..."
"I love you," Marco whispered, and deep in her heart, Briony knew he would never stop saying it.
He said it again later that night when they were on the jet back to Florence. He said it in the morning when they woke up together. He said it months later when they announced their engagement to the frantic Italian press, and he whispered it to her when she told him she was pregnant again, just two weeks before their wedding.
"I love you," Marco said as he leaned in to kiss her.
The wedding alter was laden with pure white roses, and dressed in pink, held in both their arms, Eva cooed with delight.
"I love you," Briony replied, and as they kissed in front of the jubilant audience, their daughter between them, Briony knew they would never be apart again.
THE END
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