by Lia Lee
"Keep your voice down, you'll wake her," she snapped, and to her surprise, Marco subsided.
"Why shouldn't I have taken you at your word?" she asked, and he look startled.
"What are you talking about now?"
"The things you said. How women couldn't defend their own honor, and how no matter how hard she tried, a woman would never have the character that a man could. Do you think I want my daughter growing up with that viewpoint echoing in her head, never thinking that she was anything on her own? Always thinking that there needed to be a man in her life?"
"If she took her proper place as a princess of Florence, she would never be left to deal with anything," Marcus said stonily. "She would be given everything she could ever want, and if a man dared crossed her..."
He looked around the apartment, distaste clear on his face. "She would be born to a palace, wanting nothing. Instead, here she lives..."
"Don't say it," Briony spat. "Don't. This place is perfectly fine. She's safe, she's loved, and I care more about her than I have ever cared about anything."
Marco made a move as if he wanted to grab her and shake her, but he stopped himself at the last moment, shaking his head instead.
"Do you truly believe that our daughter is better off here in a tiny apartment than in a palace in Florence being offered the world on a plate?"
"Here she is loved. That's what matters the most, it's what's always mattered the most, isn't it?"
For the first time, Marco dropped his gaze. He was too proud to say that she had won, but she saw a peculiar kind of defeat in his eyes.
"I am leaving now," he said, his voice icy. "But this is not over, Briony."
She said nothing, only waited until he had stormed out of her apartment. She managed to stay standing until he had closed the door behind him. Then after she latched the door, she fell onto the couch, a flood of tears wracking her body.
She tried to tell herself that she was scared for her daughter, but somewhere deep down, Briony knew it was not that. She had seen the awe in Marco's eyes when he’d seen Eva for the first time. The world might be large and terrifying, but it looked like Eva had won a protector for life.
No, her grief was far more selfish. She had thought that she had forgotten Marco. She had done her best to forget the one-night stand that had changed utterly everything in her life. Now she realized that even if memories were buried, they might come up again in the blink of an eye.
She could still remember the night she had danced with a masked man, and how it had felt to be someone else. Now it seemed she would suffer the rest of her life wanting to be that person again.
***
Briony decided that forewarned was forearmed. She needed to know more about the situation than she did, and that meant researching the heck out of everything involved.
She started with American family law, which told her that Marco did have a claim to his daughter, especially if a DNA test was taken. Still, courts would give it more weight that he hadn't been involved in the first few months of his daughter's life. It was extremely unlikely that Marco could take Eva away from her entirely. When she realized that, Briony breathed a sigh of relief.
What would it look like for her daughter, she wondered, living between two such separate worlds? Would Eva grow up to hate her humble beginnings in Los Angeles? Would she demand to live entirely in Florence? The thought stabbed Briony right through the heart, but she shook it away as best she could. That was a worry for the far future.
Briony wanted badly to call Seanan, at the very least to talk with her about meeting Marco and spilling the beans, but Seanan had taken off on another shoot, this time one in Nairobi. Her social media was full of shots of exotic stunts performed on racing cars, of face paint and hikes into the desert. She decided against trying to contact her sister, even if she might have sorely wanted the support. Seanan had always looked out for her, but this was a situation that she had to handle on her own.
Finally, Briony gathered all of her courage and started to look up Marco himself. The moment she Googled his name, she realized it was probably sheer chance she had never run into a mention of him before this.
Marco's life read like something out of a dream or perhaps a historical novel. He was a Florentine noble by birth, though of a cadet branch. He had a tidy fortune to begin with, but he had parlayed it into something immense and impressive, returning the Bianchi name to the limelight.
Briony flinched a little at page after page that detailed his assignations with models and starlets, pictures of Marco shirtless on his yacht with a woman on each arm and a wide, white grin on his face. For a while, it seemed as if he was associated with a new woman every week, but then things had changed.
When his uncle had died without an heir, there had been something of a scramble. The title of Prince of Florence held little real power except in the imagination of the people, but it was still a position that needed to be filled. At the end, Marco Bianchi was crowned, and Briony stared at the picture of Marco in the ancient cathedral, a solemn look on his face as his appointment was blessed.
She glanced at Eva, who was sleeping next to her on the couch.
"Dear god, baby, you're royalty."
As she read into the night, Briony saw a thread emerge in the articles she was reading. The death of Marco's uncle had left the city-state of Florence unsettled and uneasy. Nearly every interview with Marco involved a question about when he would be giving the throne an heir.
Marco fended off the answers with an adroit charm that spoke of a lifetime in the limelight, but Briony saw a man with steel nerves and a determination to do what was right.
"Well, princess," Briony said at last. "I wonder what your father's going to do..."
***
Briony was simultaneously relieved and slightly offended when Marco maintained radio silence for two weeks. The newspapers were quiet about him, but that wasn't too uncommon. It was the off season, when almost everyone was resting up after the immense social requirements of the months before. Seanan was a part of that rhythm when she wasn't on shoot, and Briony had learned a little about it.
Then one unusually gray Thursday, Briony got a strange phone call. She blinked, because there was really no reason that Kelly, her supervisor from work, would be calling her.
After the usual pleasantries, Kelly cut to the meat of the matter. "The university is undergoing some unique restructuring. By the time you return, your position is going to be eliminated."
Briony barely stopped herself from letting out a soft cry. Her stomach felt as if it had dropped straight to the floor.
"Don't worry, though, because there's a splendid opportunity for you opening up at one of our sister schools."
"Where at?" Briony asked, too flustered to be polite. "I mean, I'm grateful, but I would need to..."
"The sister school is in Florence," Kelly said. "The pay is far better, there is an apartment prepared for you, and though you'll have to take up residence soon, you'll be able to take the rest of your maternity leave..."
The moment that Kelly said “Florence,” Briony went cold and then hot.
"Tell me, Kelly," she said. "Does this restructuring have something to do with a great deal of money that was just given to the school?"
On the other end of the line, Kelly paused just long enough that Briony knew she was right.
"Was there a certain prince involved?"
"If you are asking about Marco Bianchi, he did offer a very generous endowment to..."
"Thank you. That's what I needed to know. Will you please send me the information on the new position via email?"
"Of course."
Briony sat on the floor where Eva was exploring with the single-minded enthusiasm of the very young.
"Your papa is something else," she said to the little girl, and she wondered if it was an accident when Eva looked up at her.
"Yeah, I'm talking about your Papa. Let's see what he has to say about himself."
**
*
It took a bit of digging, and she had to sit through three operators and a very distrustful security guard, but finally, Marco picked up the phone.
"What the hell?" Briony demanded. "You can't just...eat up people's jobs and move them where you please."
There was a pause, and then Marco laughed. "You know, when I was talking with your sister, she said that you were meek and shy. I almost thought I had found the wrong woman yet again, but when you say things like that, I remember that I have not."
"You make me act like some crazy, demanding version of myself," Briony said tartly. "If you want shy and sweet, maybe act otherwise. Now about my job..."
"I hardly thought you would object," he said, and she could almost see him shrug negligently. "It is more money, far better benefits, a far better place to live. Also, it will let Eva grow up in the heritage that will be hers. She is a princess, or she will be when I formally acknowledge her. I would not think that you would keep her from that."
Briony bit her lip, because objectively, everything that Marco was saying was correct. She would never want to rob her daughter of her birthright, and Marco held the key to it.
"If I go to Florence..."
"You are going to Florence," he said with such assurance that she gritted her teeth.
"Will you promise me that you have Eva's best interests at heart? That your only reason for doing this is to regain your lost princess?"
Marco paused.
"I can tell you that I am absolutely doing this with Eva's best interests at heart," he said finally. "But I cannot tell you that she is the only reason I am doing this."
The silence stretched between them, and Marco sighed, a sound so soft that Briony could have imagined it.
"Goodbye, Briony. People will be checking in with you to help you coordinate your move. I will see you in Florence."
Chapter Nine
Briony made it off of the private jet with less than four hours of sleep in the last forty-eight, and a screaming baby in her arms. The security detail she had been given escorted her through the airport, taking her along private hallways that were nearly empty.
"Shh, shh, baby, please, I know it's been a long trip. Just a little longer, all right?"
Eva paused for just a moment, long enough for Briony to get her hopes up, and then she resumed her wail. God, at least she didn't have to carry her luggage through. It had been handled for her.
Briony expected to be met by a driver, as she had been at her home in LA, but to her surprise, it was Marco waiting for her in the private garage that she had been taken to. He looked so handsome that it nearly took her breath away. He was dressed casually, but it was clear that probably even his underwear was worth more than the entire outfit she was wearing. After fourteen hours on the plane, she knew she looked like a garbage can.
Marco, for his part, didn't say anything about her appearance. Instead, he only cocked his head with concern at Eva.
"Is she all right? Shall I have a doctor meet us?"
Briony shook her head blearily. "She's just overtired, overstimulated and hungry. She wouldn't take any milk while she was on the plane, but apparently a lot of babies are like that..."
She herself was sorely aware of how overdue they were for a feeding. Her breasts felt overly full and slightly aching. She had slid pads into her bra, and hopefully they hadn't leaked through.
"So, home?" Marco asked, and she was too exhausted to even start to argue.
"Yes. Please."
With a surprisingly tender touch, he guided her into the limo, which incongruously held a car seat.
"Thought of everything," Briony said with a bleary smile, and Marco grinned at her a little. They got Eva buckled in together, and the little girl whimpered with exhaustion, making Briony's heart ache.
"Can't you sleep a little, baby?" she asked, and for a miracle, Eva yawned. As the limo started its silk-smooth journey, Eva fell into a deep sleep, and Briony nearly wanted to cry with relief.
"Tough trip?" Marco asked, and it was such a sweet, normal thing to ask.
"She cried for seven hours," Briony said, shaking her head. "She couldn't pop her ears and just had to suffer."
"Poor darling," he murmured. "Poor you. You should get some rest too."
She started to protest that she was fine, but then he drew her against his side. She was all at once painfully aware of how frumpy and tired she looked, how she was exhausted in every bone, but it felt so, so good to be cuddled up next to him.
"It's almost two hours before we get home, and if you want to see the sights of Florence, I'll take you later. Right now, you need rest."
She thought she was still arguing even when she drifted off to sleep, and in her dreams, she was sailing far away with Eva and Marco, all three of them laughing over a bright blue sea.
***
Marco watched Briony practically fall unconscious, and he shook his head with a slight smile. He should have known it would take something like that to knock out such a fierce girl.
It was fascinating. He had shared limos with some of the most beautiful women in the world, but none of them had ever fascinated him so much as the one curled up next to him now. She was pale without makeup, curvy where other women were only slender, and now and again, she let out a high and whistling snore.
He couldn't quite decide if it was in spite of these things or actively because of them that she made him smile. It was just part of what he was deciding was the mystery of Briony.
He had been full of righteous indignation when he had returned to Florence after their admittedly disastrous reunion. He had run the gamut from wanting to cut off all ties with her and Eva, to simply using the immense resources at his disposal to claim Eva as his own, and damn whatever came next.
As he had stormed and plotted, however, two things had grown out of his turmoil. The first was that he needed Eva in his life. He had never thought about children in a dimension other than political and abstract. Seeing the actuality of Eva, needing to hold her and knowing he had no right to do so, was like a pain through him. The second thing he realized was that he wanted Briony as well. In his memory, Briony gleamed like a star, something he had wondered if the real woman herself could ever compete with. After he’d met her in LA, he knew beyond a doubt that she shadowed the memory rather than the other way around. She was brilliant and vibrant, fierce and protective. He had to know more about her, and their kiss upon meeting again after all that time stunned him to his very core.
They were both his, and he had to claim them.
It was a desperate move to bring them to Florence as he had, taking over her job and having her transferred to Florence, but Marco was more than willing to say that he was a desperate man.
However, when he gazed at the sleeping woman and their slumbering child, there was something there that offered him a peace he had never known. There was no desperation when they were together. There was only an ocean of feeling that swelled up with a sweetness that was almost too intense to be borne.
***
Briony awoke when her daughter let out a muffled whimper. For a moment, a pang of fear struck her through. Where was she? This wasn't her car, and where was her apartment? Then her memory returned, and she realized she was in Florence in Marco's limo.
"Are we..."
"Hush, we're home. Come with me."
It was dark outside with just a few pinkish streaks left in the sky. Briony unbuckled a whimpering Eva from her car seat, snuggling her baby against her chest.
"You're okay, sweetie, come on, we'll get you fed..."
She blinked at the grand steps that led up to a house that needed to be properly called a mansion. Marco's hand at her back surprised her for a moment, but then she could feel a deep comfort ride through her.
"It's home," he said softly. "Come on..."
"I was supposed to be given quarters by the university," she murmured, but she followed him up the stairs, too tired and bewildered to fight.
"Ye
s, and I am supplying those quarters. Let me show you..."
He led her through the marble hallways that looked more like a museum than a place where people lived. She wondered if there was a grand bedchamber or something, but then he led her to what he called the guest wing. Briony watched as Marco opened a door to reveal a comfortable apartment, classically decorated but modern in every respect.
"I think this will suit your needs," he said, and she could tell that it would. It was easily twice as large as her own apartment at home, with two bedrooms attached to a living room and even a small kitchen.
He started to say something else, but Briony interrupted.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out. "But I need to feed Eva."
"Of course," he said, looking slightly guilty.
She waited, but he showed no indication of leaving. She wondered if that should embarrass her, but a rebellious streak had appeared. He could leave if he wished. She wasn't doing anything wrong.
She seated herself on the couch and tugged open the front of her wrap dress. She had never really worn dresses until she had Eva, but she practically lived in them now. Her breasts felt far heavier than usual, and when Eva, still just waking up, latched on, she breathed a deep sigh of relief.
Briony fell into a kind of gentle daze as her daughter suckled, at peace with the world for at least a little longer. Minutes passed before she glanced up at Marco.
He stood close by, an expression of awe on his face. There was wonder there and also longing. It would have taken a stronger woman than Briony to deny him.
"Come here. Sit with us."
He came as if he had been waiting for the invitation, sitting as close to her as he could. Briony shifted her daughter to her other breast, covering the first, and she must have winced because Marco stiffened.
"Does it hurt?"
"It's a little sore, but that's because she didn't get a chance to drink before. It'll be far better once we're on a schedule."
He made a soft sound, and he watched their daughter drink with a fascination that warmed Briony. Perhaps he could learn about women's character with a daughter of his own. Perhaps there was hope for all three of them together...