The Secret the Italian Claims
Page 18
The truth was that she didn’t want to sing for strangers. She wanted to sing for the people she loved. For Cristiano. And she would have given it all up in a second if he’d come for her, to fight for her. For their family.
But he hadn’t.
A jagged pain filled her throat. Bad for singing, she thought, and tried to think of happier things. She’d used some of that hundred-thousand-dollar check, which she’d tucked away in her savings account, to lease a one-bedroom walk-up apartment in the Lower East Side. But she was trying not to spend that. She wanted to save it for Jack’s future, so she never had to ask Cristiano for anything ever again. Not even the alimony required by the prenuptial agreement. She hadn’t filed for divorce. The mere thought of divorce filled her with blinding pain.
At the moment it felt like she was barely putting one foot ahead of the other. She didn’t know how she would have survived without her friends.
“Stop that,” Tess said, as she caught Lola yawning behind Hallie.
“I can’t help it,” the blonde said. “I only got four hours of sleep last night. Thanks to you,” she said to her tiny baby with mock severity.
“Four hours isn’t so bad,” Tess said encouragingly. Lola rolled her eyes.
“One hour. Four times.”
“Oh,” Tess said, because there wasn’t much good to say about that. Then she brightened. “But before you know it, your baby will be as big as Esme.” She looked down at her five-month-old daughter, a dark-haired baby with adorable fat rolls on her thighs and bright emerald-green eyes.
“It’s time,” the stage manager called, and Hallie sucked in her breath.
Lola squeezed Hallie’s shoulder. “I know you’ll be great.”
Tess gave her a sideways hug. “We’ll be cheering for you!”
Then they left with the babies, and Hallie was alone. She heard the club’s host announce, “And let’s have a big Blue Hour welcome for debut artist... Hallie Hatfield!”
She’d left the Moretti name behind. The glamorous bride celebrated in the fashion blogs, the woman who’d brought the famous Cristiano Moretti to his knees—that obviously wasn’t her. She was just Hallie, plain and simple.
Trembling, she went out on stage, in front of the house band. Beneath the spotlight, she couldn’t see anyone in the audience, not even Tess or Lola or the babies. She gulped. She wasn’t sure she could do this.
Then...
Closing her eyes, she focused on the music. The songs her mother and father had once sung to her, and her grandparents before.
Hallie’s lips parted, and against her will she saw Cristiano’s face. She sang directly to the man she loved. The man she’d lost.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sang of longing and heartbreak and regret. When she finally sang her last note, silence fell across the club.
Opening her eyes, Hallie looked out into the darkness beyond the spotlight. Had everyone left? Had they hated her songs and just gone home?
Then she heard it, sweeping across the club like a low roll of thunder.
A rush of applause built to shouts and cheers, lifting her sad heart. She smiled, overwhelmed with gratitude. She hadn’t failed the audience who’d come to hear her, but still she felt sad.
“Thank you,” she choked out. Wiping her tears, she stepped back from the microphone. As she turned away, she heard one man’s voice above the rest.
“Hallie.”
There was a collective intake of breath across the club. Turning back, she narrowed her eyes, trying to see who was calling to her. It sounded like...but it couldn’t be...
The spotlight moved, and she saw him.
Her husband stood in the middle of the crowded jazz club, amid all the tables, his dark suit more rumpled than she’d ever seen it.
“Cristiano?” she breathed.
His dark eyes cut through her soul. Turning to the crowd, he held out his arm toward her. “Hallie is my wife.” He spread his arms wide. “Have you ever heard such a voice?”
The audience applauded and hooted, stomping their feet. But Hallie had eyes only for him.
“What are you doing here?”
Cristiano’s voice carried across the room as he turned to face her. “I don’t need you, Hallie.”
She sucked in her breath.
“At least that’s what I told myself.” He started walking past the crowded tables, toward the stage. “The truth was, I was afraid to need you.” He stopped in front of the stage, staring up at her. “Because I was dead inside.”
The club was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.
“But you brought me to life.” Cristiano smiled at her, his dark eyes shining. “It was your voice that caused the first crack in the wall around my heart. The first time I heard you sing. Do you remember?”
She nodded, a lump in her throat. How could she forget?
“I saw you, so vibrant and sexy and alive, and I knew from that moment that I had to have you. But it wasn’t just your incredible voice that drew me. Not even your beautiful face and body. It was your soul, Hallie,” he whispered. “Your heart.”
By now, camera phones had appeared at every table, lighting up the club like candle flames, recording the moment as the famous billionaire Cristiano Moretti went onstage to join his wife.
“No.” She struggled to speak. “I can’t believe it.”
“I spoke with my father,” he said humbly. “And you were right. Everything you said. You were right.”
Her heart was in her throat as she looked up at him.
“I know what love means now,” he whispered. Then, to her shock, he fell to his knees on the stage in front of her. There was a gasp across the club.
Cristiano looked up at her. His eyes were vulnerable and raw. For the first time, the darkness was gone. For the first time, she truly saw his soul.
“Let me try to win back your heart. Let me show you I can be the man I was always meant to be.” He took her hand in both of his. “I need you, Hallie,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Reaching down, she put her hand to his rough cheek in amazement. “You love me?”
He nodded, blinking back tears. “Tell me I’m not too late.” His voice broke. “Tell me I still have the chance to be the man you deserve.”
She pulled him to his feet. “The chance? No. You don’t have a chance to win back my love.” Hallie smiled at him through her tears. “Because I never stopped loving you, Cristiano.”
His handsome face filled with joy. Cupping her face in both his hands, he kissed her, long and hard. Hallie felt the flame spark between them, as always.
But something was different. Something was new. They knew each other now, really and truly. The fire burned bright and clear between them, in a blaze she knew would last forever.
Ignoring the applause and hoots from the audience, Cristiano looked down at her. “And you were right about something else.”
“What?”
He gave her an impish grin. “The house you loved on Bank Street. The one you told me about. It does have a garden. And it was for sale, just like you said. I told my broker to put in an offer.”
“What!”
“If you still want it,” he amended. He searched her gaze. “Do you, cara?”
“Oh, Cristiano.” Happy tears filled Hallie’s eyes at the thought of having the home she’d dreamed of for all her life. “Do you really mean it? We can stay?”
“Forever, if you want.” He cupped her cheek. “Because you’re not just my wife. You’re my love song,” he whispered. “My happiness, my heartbreak and joy. You’re my everything.”
Looking down at her hand wrapped in his larger one, Hallie felt her heart in her throat.
“And you’re mine.” She looked up at him, blinking back tears. “From the moment you said you loved me, all my childhood dreams cam
e true. We can live in New York, or anywhere in the world. Because now I know, for the rest of our lives,” she breathed, her eyes shining with joy, “wherever we live, we’re home.”
* * * * *
Coming next month
MARRIAGE MADE IN BLACKMAIL
Michelle Smart
‘You want me to move?’
‘Yes.’
A gleam pulsed in his eyes. ‘Make me.’
Instead of closing her hand into a fist and aiming it at his nose as he deserved, Chloe placed it flat on his cheek.
An unwitting sigh escaped from her lips as she drank in the ruggedly handsome features she had dreamed about for so long. The texture of his skin was so different from her own, smooth but with the bristles of his stubble breaking through…had he not shaved? She had never seen him anything other than clean-shaven.
His face was close enough for her to catch the faint trace of coffee and the more potent scent of his cologne.
Luis was the cause of all this chaos rampaging through her. She hated him so much but the feelings she’d carried for him for all these years were still there, refusing to die, making her doubt herself and what she’d believed to be the truth.
Her lips tingled, yearning to feel his mouth on hers again, all her senses springing to life and waving surrender flags at her.
Just kiss him…
Closing her eyes tightly, Chloe gathered all her wits about her, wriggled out from under him and sat up.
Her lungs didn’t want to work properly and she had to force air into them.
She shifted to the side, needing physical distance, suddenly terrified of what would happen if she were to brush against him or touch him in any form again.
Fighting to clear her head of the fog clouding it, she blinked rapidly and said, ‘Do I have your word that your feud with Benjamin ends with our marriage?’
Things had gone far enough. It was time to put an end to it.
‘Sí. Marry me and it ends.’
Continue reading
MARRIAGE MADE IN BLACKMAIL
Michelle Smart
Available next month
Copyright ©2018 by Michelle Smart
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