‘Either I work for Conti or I leave Italy.’ Her voice broke as tears began to well in her eyes.
‘That sounds like blackmail.’
‘It is, Ale.’
‘But to blackmail you, he’d need to know something about you, wouldn’t he, bella?’
Ale’s stomach lurched at the realisation that his world as he knew it was about to unravel.
‘He does,’ Annabella said quietly. She stood still on the other side of the counter that separated them like a widening chasm. Forever expanding and pushing them further apart with each revelation.
‘So? Tell me.’ Ale paused, barely able to ask the question as the answer threatened to take her away from him. ‘What does he know?’
‘The truth about Rachel Bonaparte—’
‘Rachel?’ Ale interrupted incredulously.
‘Ale, Rachel wasn’t a traitor. Umberto Conti seduced her. When she fell pregnant with his child he didn’t want anything to do with her. He already had what he wanted. He stole her recipes and told the media she’d given them to him. Her reputation was ruined, she was pregnant and already had a young child to look after. He gave her no choice but to leave the country or he’d destroy everything that was important to her.’
‘How could you believe a word Conti told you? Rachel Bonaparte was a heartless traitor. So what if she was pregnant, she probably seduced Conti, and who knows who else, to get what she wanted, and in the end she got what she deserved.’
‘Ale, that’s enough,’ Annabella gasped and slammed her fist on the counter, jolting him to her attention. ‘She was pregnant with me,’ she said breathlessly.
Annabella stared at him, motionless except for the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed heavily. She seemed unaware of the flowing tears that stained her cheeks.
They silently held each other’s gaze. Alessandro’s stomach churned, as the slow burn of bile rose in his throat. This was worse than he could have possibly imagined.
He balanced himself on the counter as he leant forward. ‘Let me get this straight, because I honestly cannot believe what I’m hearing,’ he said slowly. ‘Rachel Bonaparte was your mother?’
Annabella nodded as she gasped for breath.
‘And Umberto Conti … was your father?’ Ale almost choked on the words.
‘Yes, but in name only. I never even met him,’ she said pleadingly through her tears.
Alessandro’s heart thumped as he steadied himself with his hands on the countertop, his blood pumping so wildly that he didn’t know how to regain control. He breathed heavily and shook his head in disbelief. How had this happened? At what moment had he allowed himself to become so weak?
‘Looking at this.’ Alessandro motioned to the tabloid in front of him. ‘You seemed pretty pleased to meet his son, no? Your brother.’ He sneered. ‘I guess I should be relieved that at least you’re not sleeping with him.’
Annabella reached her hand out to his. ‘Ale, I know this is a shock—’
‘I bet you had a great laugh together about how you fooled me, huh?’ Alessandro stepped back, away from her touch as he paced back and forth.
‘Ale, no—’
‘The irony, no? I asked you to play the part and you played it so well that in the end I’m the one who got played.’ Alessandro laughed bitterly, unable to look at her.
He’d been so worried by the thought of Annabella planning to side with the enemy. But the truth was so much worse. She was the enemy.
Fragments of their intimate conversations whirled in his head. He’d felt so close to Annabella, so comforted by her, he’d thought it was mutual. How could she have blinded him so easily?
She’d ingratiated her way into his kitchen, his life, under his skin. She’d pried open his heart and let him think that it was safe to let her in. To confide in her. Trust her. And when she was done, she’d leave him hollow, used and alone.
‘That’s it then.’ He looked at her directly, he wouldn’t let her take the last of his dignity. ‘You’ve got your money and a world-class reputation. Everything you wanted. Now you’re free to leave.’ The words scorched his tongue but there was no other option.
‘It’s not like that, Ale. Please, don’t push me away. Yes, I made a mistake. I didn’t tell you who my parents were, but I was completely honest about everything else.’
‘But Annabella, it wasn’t a little lie, was it? Surely you know that. You betrayed me.’
‘No Ale. I worked for you, I stood by you. I would never betray you. Please don’t use this as an excuse to leave me just as we’re getting close. For once, open yourself to the possibility of making a real commitment. One that doesn’t involve a contract. One based on …’ She stopped herself abruptly.
‘What, bella? Based on what? Trust? That’s laughable coming from you, no?’
‘But Ale, can’t you see I had no choice? I so wanted to tell you everything.’
‘Really? When exactly? Was it when I confided in you about my past? Or perhaps in my bed when you told me we shouldn’t but then you did so willingly.’ He stalked back to the counter, narrowing the distance between them once more, each step feeding his tirade. ‘Or was it in the hospital when you held my dying father’s hand that you thought it might be time to tell me the truth?’
Annabella looked at him helplessly, her eyes widened with despair, unable to say the words that could stop him. He wanted to shame her for fooling him like this.
‘No? Not then? How about when I told you that I’d never been more betrayed or hurt by a woman than when Rachel Bonaparte, your mother, left me, just a child, without a word of explanation. Was it then? Tell me, at what moment were you going to tell me the truth, Annabella?’ Alessandro stepped back from the counter, breathing heavily, suddenly aware of the loud volume of his voice.
He prayed that Annabella could come up with something, anything that could make this situation better. But she just stared at him hopelessly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ridiculously, a part of him wanted to comfort her. She’d really done a number on him.
‘Nothing to say?’ Alessandro asked calmly. ‘Surely after such a magnificent performance you have something left in your repertoire, no?’
‘Ale, that’s not fair—’
‘You’re right, it’s not,’ he said bitterly.
‘I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, but my sister needed me. My first priority always had to be Sofia, you know what she means to me. And somehow Roberto knew that too. I wasn’t making a deal with him, he was trying to blackmail me. You’ve got to believe me.’
‘Annabella, don’t you see? Why you were talking to Roberto is irrelevant. You lied to me. I confided in you about the most intimate things, I trusted you.’
‘You can trust me, Ale, I’ve nothing else to hide.’
‘But you’re the daughter of a man whose life’s mission was to ruin my family. The daughter of a woman who betrayed my father and abandoned me without so much as a goodbye. And now, you’re front cover news embracing Roberto Conti. Your family, no? All things you chose not to tell me. How can I possibly believe you?’
‘Ale, Umberto Conti was nothing more than a donor. He blackmailed my mother and forced her to leave, she had no choice.’
‘This story sounds familiar. She had a choice, just like you did. You didn’t tell me who you really are not for my sake, but for your own. You thought if I knew the truth I wouldn’t help you. You didn’t give me the choice. And now I can’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth.’
‘Believe this,’ Annabella said forcefully as she slowly walked around the counter to stand in front of him. ‘I don’t know why she didn’t say goodbye but it would have broken my mother’s heart to leave you, Ale. She made a mistake by falling for the wrong man who betrayed her terribly. Umberto forced her to leave.’
Annabella took Ale’s hand gently and looked up at him. ‘I didn’t even know Umberto was my father until my mother passed away,’ she said softly. ‘I never wanted to meet him. He wa
s nothing to me. But you’re …’ Annabella raised her hand to Ale’s cheek and he couldn’t help resting his head against her soft palm and closing his eyes; he longed to believe her words. ‘You’re everything, Ale. I …’ She stopped suddenly, the words caught in her throat. ‘I love you,’ she said breathlessly.
Ale’s eyes flicked open at the words, his posture stiffened, he grasped Annabella’s wrist, catching himself before he fell under her spell again.
‘Love? What does that even mean?’ He dropped her hand and forced himself to step back away from her. Out of the danger zone.
‘You think you know me but you don’t know me at all. You think words like trust and love will fool me again? Don’t you remember how we met? I put little faith in those words. Oh my bella. Whoever you are … just go home.’ The words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them, driven by hurt and self-preservation.
The helplessness in Annabella’s eyes filled him with despair. He’d desperately hoped she could convince him that he could trust her again. That he could love her too. But her silence said it all. She couldn’t deny who she was or her ongoing deception. The truth betrayed them both.
‘I’m going out,’ he said steadily. ‘When I get back I expect you to be gone.’
‘Okay, if that’s what you want,’ Annabella said quietly.
Of course it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her not to have betrayed him. He wanted her to stay, he wanted to gather her in his arms and never let her go.
He wanted to let her love him. He’d allowed himself to imagine how glorious that would be.
But so far he’d done what he wanted and where did it get him? Now he had to do what he needed. He’d confided in Annabella more than anyone before and she’d deceived him. How could he trust her again?
‘It is,’ he said reluctantly.
He strode to the door, without making eye contact in case a tearful plea tricked him into staying. The thought of never seeing his Annabella again devastated him, but as for the woman standing in his kitchen? He had no idea who she really was.
***
‘Tell me again, you told him you loved him and he told you to leave?’ Sofia asked disbelievingly as she picked up her cup of chamomile tea.
‘No, first I told him I’d betrayed him for the whole time I’d known him. Then I told him that I loved him. Then he told me to leave.’ Annabella poked despondently at her salted caramel macaroon with her cake fork.
‘I hope you’re going to eat that, Ann. How tragic, we’re in one of Paris’s most acclaimed patisseries and you can’t get through one tiny macaroon. I couldn’t even taste it and still I’ve eaten three.’ Sofia smiled sympathetically at her sister.
‘I’m sorry, Sof, I’ve lost my appetite. And everything reminds me of Alessandro.’
Not even the sumptuous environs of Ladurée, with its rainbow display of macaroons and croquembouche towers, could rouse Annabella from her melancholic state.
Everything seemed muted somehow; the other diners in the tearoom and the busy commuters outside on the Champs Elysées were a distant hum. It was like she was encased in cotton wool and disconnected from everything and everyone. Other than her constant nausea, she was numb.
‘Oh Ann. I guess it didn’t help that he found out by seeing you with Roberto splashed all over the morning newspapers.’
‘No. But even if I’d told him myself it probably wouldn’t have made a difference. You should have seen him. He was beyond hurt. He was angry, but really he couldn’t believe that I’d actually betrayed him. He trusted me, Sofia, he doesn’t trust anyone but for some reason he really trusted me.’
‘That’s because he loves you, Ann.’
‘I don’t think so. I thought he might have but I’ve ruined any chance of that.’
‘But honestly, where does he get off being so self-righteous? From the beginning he told you to pretend to be someone you’re not. He paid you to fool everyone, even his father. So deception’s okay as long as he’s the one in control, right?’
‘But his deception wasn’t for his own benefit or even the company, it was for his dad, for his recovery. I realise that now and I can’t blame Ale for that. We would have done anything to help Mum when she was sick.’
‘That’s true. And you did what you needed to do to help me. It was hardly selfish, Ann.’
‘I know and I don’t regret that for a moment. You’re going to get the help you need and now we can afford to open the boutique, redeem Mum’s reputation. I’m so grateful for that. I just think I should have left when Roberto told me to. Ale trusted me, he’d confided in me and I really let him down.’
‘But you trusted him too, remember. You told him you love him, for goodness sake, and I know how hard that was for you after everything that happened with Nic. I’m really proud of you, Ann.’
‘I guess deep down I didn’t think he’d push me away. That he’d listen and try to understand. But he couldn’t see I had no choice. You’re right, I did trust him. I trusted him not to tell me to go even though he had every right to.’ Annabella took a deep breath, willing herself not to give in to her tears. ‘But he did. Almost without a second thought.’
‘But it was obviously a huge shock for him and he wouldn’t have been thinking straight. Besides, he’s a man and he’s no metrosexual. Let’s face it, talking about feelings doesn’t come naturally to man like Alessandro. Or to you, come to think of it.’ Sofia smiled. ‘He probably just needed a little thinking time. Ann, you were on the first plane out of there.’
‘He told me to go and you were waiting here. Why stick around? He didn’t want me to stay. And I would have stayed, you know? If he’d asked, I would have stayed. But he didn’t, he could barely even look at me. Any love he’d had for me was gone.’
‘That’s crap,’ Sofia said emphatically. ‘I think it’s precisely because he loves you that he couldn’t look at you. Like you said, he was really hurt. I bet by the time he got home he’d hoped to find you still there.’
‘You think? And because I left so quickly he probably thinks he was right, that I abandoned him just like our mother did and I don’t care at all? Great. It’s too late now.’
‘It’s never too late.’ Sofia leant across the small table to grasp her sister’s hands and look at her directly, her eyes sparkled and for a moment Annabella shared her optimism.
‘What on earth am I going to do?’
‘Leave it to me. It’s my turn to take care of you.’ Sofia grinned as she picked up Annabella’s phone and began to search through her contact list.
***
Annabella closed her eyes and sucked hard on the dark chocolate, willing its healing properties to miraculously calm her nerves and transport her to another place. Anywhere but here.
Even with her eyes closed she could sense the bright studio lights that were being adjusted to make sure she was firmly in the spotlight.
Here we go again. Despite her recent foray in the limelight, she was way out of her comfort zone. Before, she’d always had Alessandro by her side, like a crutch, ready to catch her if she stumbled.
This time, she was on her own.
No pretence. This time she wasn’t playing a part; she was without the protective shield of an elaborate lie. This time she was not the future Mrs Alessandro De Costa or even Annabella Beaumont. She was, for the first time in public, her mother’s daughter, Annabella Bonaparte. Honest. Exposed. Vulnerable.
Worse still, she wasn’t psyching herself up for an intimate one-on-one interview with a journalist, or even a controlled media conference. No, this was as big as it gets: Annabella centre stage, waiting for the ‘on air’ light to thrust her to the point of no return. Live television. Was she crazy?
How had she let Sofia talk her into this?
‘Ann, Ann?’ Speak of the devil.
Annabella opened her eyes to see her sister standing excitedly beside the camera in front of her. Sofia waved and pointed to her own exaggerated smile, obviously hoping to co
ax the same out of Annabella.
‘You’ll be great,’ Sofia mouthed silently, giving the thumbs up.
Annabella smiled feebly at her sister. She was going to have to do better than that. This was a live broadcast with a studio audience; there was no room for error or second chances. This was her only shot.
Until this point, Annabella’s standard response to any media inquiry had been ‘no comment’. The last thing she’d wanted was to have her words twisted by some journalist and make things worse for Alessandro. Following the front-page exposé of her with Roberto, it seemed everyone wanted a piece of her. She was even newsworthy here in Paris.
When Sofia had contacted Philippe Merchant to suggest Annabella go on his show La Chocolat et Philippe for an exclusive interview, he’d leapt at the opportunity. As one of the celebrity judges at the Turin festival, he was intrigued by the mystery surrounding Europe’s new star chocolatier and her sudden departure from Turin. The ratings for his show would skyrocket.
Annabella closed her eyes again and she rubbed her cheeks, hoping to rid herself of the nervous energy that twitched beneath her skin. She pulled several faces trying to find the perfect smile.
‘Are you okay, Annabella?’
Annabella flicked her eyes open and realised from the concern on Philippe’s face that her smile must have looked more circus clown than confident and relaxed interviewee.
‘Yes, just a little nervous.’ She placed her hands in her lap and tried to relax her face.
‘You’ll be great. We go live in a moment, okay?’ He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before sitting down in the interviewer’s chair opposite her.
Two make-up artists fluttered around them, making the finishing touches to their hair and faces before the interview began.
Seeing Philippe again immediately transported Annabella back to that sunny afternoon in Piazza San Carlo after she and Alessandro had submitted their showpiece and were free to explore the chocolate festival. After all the stress, they’d finally been able to relax and enjoy each other’s company.
Annabella smiled at the memory. Slowly her nerves evaporated and electricity pulsed through body as she recalled the tenderness of Ale’s touch when they’d returned to his loft. He’d welcomed her to a whole new world of intimacy and passion. Of love. If only she’d had the courage then, cocooned in his arms, to tell him who she really was. Would he have asked her to leave?
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