The Italian's Unexpected Heir

by Jennifer Faye

  “I... I understand.” Though the tone of his voice seemed to say the opposite. “I’ll take care of the rent—”

  “No, Enzo. I told you I’ll take care of myself.”

  “But that’s my baby you’re carrying.”

  “It’s mine, too, and I’ll make sure we’re taken care of.”

  He turned to her and frowned. “Why are you being so stubborn?”

  Her mouth gaped. It took her a moment to gather herself, but that didn’t stop her from glaring at him. “I’m not.”

  “All I’m trying to do is my part as far as the baby is concerned, but you won’t let me. If you think I’m not going to support my own child and not be there as much as possible, you’re very wrong.”

  “I would never stop you from being there for our child. I... I just need to do this transition on my own.” She needed to prove to herself that she could do this because being a single mother scared her. She remembered how hard her mother had worked to provide for her, and she worried that she wouldn’t be able to give her son or daughter as good a life as her mother had given her.

  “But that’s the thing. You don’t have to do it alone—you don’t have to do any of this alone. Marry me.”

  What had he said?

  Her gaze searched his to see if it was some sort of joke. But the look on Enzo’s face said he was perfectly serious. He wanted to marry her.

  She needed to hear that he loved her as much as she loved him. She wouldn’t accept anything less. Then she would make a home with him—have a family with him.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Why what? Why get married?” When she nodded, he visibly swallowed. He wasn’t comfortable with this conversation. That was her first warning. He cleared his throat. “We’re having a baby. Isn’t that reason enough?”

  No, it wasn’t reason enough. Not even close to it. There was so much more to a marriage than children. And if their union wasn’t founded in love, how were they ever to make it through the storms life threw their way? Their marriage would get blown off course and flounder.

  He approached her. His gaze beseeched hers. “Sylvie, marry me.”

  With strength she didn’t know she possessed, she said, “No.”

  Before her pregnancy hormones realized what she’d just done and sent her into a fit of tears, she stepped around him. With her head held high, she headed for the door. Inside, her facade was starting to melt. It was a good thing she’d already arranged for a ride into the city because if she stayed here any longer, she might change her mind. And that wouldn’t be good for any of them—including the baby.

  Goodbye.

  She didn’t say the word. She didn’t trust her voice as there was a giant lump in her throat. Instead, she blinked back the tears and kept walking.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NO.

  One single syllable. Two tiny letters.

  Combined, they had the power to deeply pierce his scarred heart.

  Enzo stumbled as he made his way to the kitchen. He walked blindly as all his resources were focused on reviewing exactly what had gone wrong with their conversation. It shouldn’t have gone so far off the tracks. He’d gone over it word for word while out in the fields. He’d been certain Sylvie would see that marrying him was the best option. She loved the estate and had been happy here. At least, that was what he’d thought. If she would have agreed to marry him, they’d have lived happily ever after right here in this very house.

  But when he’d rushed back to the villa to share news that the fire had been defeated, all those well-planned, well-chosen words had gone straight out of his head. At first, he’d been caught up in the beautiful sight of her. It was in that moment he realized just how much he’d missed her. He’d missed talking to her, listening to the lilt of her voice and her laughter, it was contagious.

  But today had been different. She’d been different. He’d noticed the stubborn jut of her chin and the pain in her eyes. He should have realized it wasn’t going to be so easy to rectify the past. But he’d been so wound up, so ready to profess his well-planned words.

  Yet, when he opened his mouth those words he’d planned...well, they’d gotten all jumbled up somewhere between his brain and his tongue. And maybe he had rushed things a bit with that proposal. But she was being stubborn and he’d grown more nervous with each passing moment.

  He knew she loved the estate—enough to wage a campaign to stop him from selling it. So the only reason he could come up with for her to turn him down was that she didn’t love him. Maybe she cared about him as a friend, but she couldn’t see him as anything more than that—

  “Enzo, what’s wrong?”

  He didn’t have to lift his head to recognize that voice. It was Bianca. When his gaze rose, he found not one but both sisters staring at him with worry reflected in their eyes.

  “Where’s Sylvie?” Gia asked.

  “She left.” His voice sounded hollow as he slumped down in a kitchen chair.

  “Left?” Bianca said. “I thought you were going to talk to her.”

  He lowered his gaze to the tabletop. “I did.”

  “And she still left?” Gia pulled out a chair across the table from him.

  “She did.”

  Bianca sat next to him. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

  His gaze jerked up to meet hers. Frustration bunched up in his gut. “Don’t you think I tried? I even told her we should get married.”

  Bianca and Gia turned to each other. They didn’t say a word, but they were communicating nonetheless. He hated when they did this and left him out. He had no idea what they were thinking—no, that wasn’t true. He knew what they thought. He screwed this all up. And he couldn’t disagree.

  His chair scraped over the slate floor tiles.

  “Don’t go.” Bianca stood, as if to follow him.

  He shook his head. “I don’t need you to tell me that I’ve made a mess of everything—starting when we were kids.”

  “When we were kids?” Bianca sent him a puzzled look.

  “What are you talking about?” Gia moved to Bianca’s side.

  He hadn’t meant to bring up the past. He’d just been so worked up and the words had come tumbling out. It was a mistake. But how was he going to take it back now that his sisters were laser focused on him?

  And then he heard the echo of Sylvie’s voice urging him to open up about the past. She’d told him to be honest with his sisters about everything and trust that they’d make it through another revelation.

  But the thought of revealing the secret he’d been keeping more than half his life was daunting. His gut knotted up. What if they never spoke to him again?

  “Enzo, talk to us.” Bianca’s voice drew him from his internal debate.

  “You better sit down for this,” he said in a resigned tone.

  His sisters exchanged worried glances as they took a seat. And then he told them about that long-ago night when he’d overheard his parents’ argument about their mother’s affair. It was a memory he hoped he’d never have to revisit after today.

  Silence greeted his confession. And it stretched out into an uncomfortable void.

  Enzo shifted in his seat. “I’m really sorry. I’ve messed up big-time.”

  Bianca’s fine brows drew together. “You really thought they were talking about you?”

  He nodded.

  “Is this why you’ve been acting so strange?” Gia asked. “Why you look like you’ve been carrying around the weight of the world?”

  He shrugged and then nodded. “I’d put that memory out of my mind. I’d convinced myself it was just a horrible dream. And when you want to believe something enough, it’s pretty easy to do.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. He had one more admission to make. “And then when the journal was found, the memory came back. I... I should have said s
omething then. But I was...afraid.”

  Another awkward silence filled the air. What were they thinking? Would they understand? Or would they remain angry with him?

  Knock-knock.

  Enzo inwardly groaned. Now wasn’t the time for interruptions. He needed to work this out with his sisters—sisters who were being unusually quiet. It wasn’t a good sign.

  Bianca jumped up. “I think it’s Mr. Caruso.”

  “What’s the family attorney doing here?” Enzo asked. And then a thought came to him. “Does this have to do with the sale of the estate?”

  “I don’t know,” Bianca said. “He called earlier and asked if he could drop by.”

  “Do you think it’s something bad?” Gia asked as they all moved toward the front door.

  No one answered her question. Enzo hoped Gia was wrong. They’d already had enough bad stuff to last a lifetime.

  Bianca swung the door open and greeted Mr. Caruso. His face was pale and drawn as though he had a matter of great importance weighing on his mind.

  After they ushered him into Enzo’s office because the living room was still a bit disheveled from their guests, Enzo turned to the older man. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know quite how this happened.” Mr. Caruso started to pace. “It really shouldn’t have happened. In all my years as an attorney, I’ve never seen something like this.” The man’s words were rushed.

  “Sit down.” Gia guided him over to a chair. As she stood behind the chair as the man took a seat, she raised her brows at her siblings. She then moved to a nearby chair to sit down.

  Mr. Caruso clutched his leather satchel with both arms. “I’m so sorry. I had to replace my assistant a while back and it took a few candidates until I found one that was a good fit. I don’t know if it happened then or what—”

  “It’s okay.” Enzo sat behind what had been their father’s desk. “Just tell us the problem and we’ll go from there.”

  Mr. Caruso searched through his satchel and pulled out a legal-size envelope. He held it up. “This was supposed to have been with your parents’ will. Somehow it got misplaced.”

  “What is it?” Enzo hesitantly asked, wondering if it was yet another bombshell.

  Gia frowned. “We’re not sure we want to learn any more family secrets.”

  “I agree,” Bianca chimed in. “It’s been a roller-coaster year. Maybe you should just keep whatever that is.”

  Mr. Caruso looked perplexed. “I... I can’t do that.” He stood and held out the envelope to no one in particular. “Who should I give it to?”

  Neither Enzo nor his sisters reached for it.

  Mr. Caruso placed the envelope on the edge of the desk. “I’ll just leave it here until one of you feels like reading it. Again, I’m so sorry about this.”

  Not one of the three of them spoke. They sat there staring at the envelope as though at any moment it was going to explode. Dread consumed Enzo. Hadn’t they already been through enough?

  “I’ll see myself out.” Mr. Caruso made a hasty departure.

  Enzo wasn’t sure how long they just sat there staring at the envelope wondering what bit of dynamite it contained. Would reading it once again blow apart their worlds?

  Gia sat forward. “This is ridiculous. We can’t pretend we don’t know it exists. And we can’t spend the next year or so wondering what it says.”

  Enzo cleared his throat. “I agree.” He turned his attention to Bianca. “If we’re going to do this, it needs to be unanimous. What do you say?”

  Bianca hesitated before she nodded in agreement. Gia did the same.

  Enzo reached for the envelope. Across the front, each of their names were printed in their father’s handwriting. Enzo’s gut twisted into a knot.

  Here we go again.

  He stuck his finger beneath the flap and yanked, opening the envelope. His heart pounded in his chest as he recalled the nightmare that had unfolded after they read their mother’s journal.

  Please don’t let this be like that.

  Enzo withdrew two sheets of paper with his father’s handwriting. His instinct was to skim through the letter and make sure there was nothing that was going to upset his sisters, but he knew that wasn’t fair to them. Hadn’t he already learned the price of keeping secrets?

  Enzo cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

  “Enzo, Bianca and Gia, I apologize for what you have gone through with the contest to win the estate. Your mother told me not to do it, but I didn’t want any of you to make a life-altering mistake like your mother and I have done. By fighting for the villa you’ve each had a chance to figure out what the place means to you. I know that each of you loves the estate, perhaps for different reasons, and that’s okay. But without the contest it would be easy for each of you to forget its meaning. Just as your mother and I became so complacent in our marriage that for a moment we forgot what it meant to both of us. I can tell you all that your mother is the love of my life. And I believe she feels the same for me. We experienced troubles in our time. I would say it was my fault, though she would vehemently disagree. I had become so absorbed in growing the vineyard that I forgot about the importance of family. My fatherly advice to each of you is not to forget your family is your priority. Their love, safety and happiness must come first. Always. If you’re reading this letter, it means your mother and I are no longer with you. But never doubt we’re looking down upon each of you, cheering you on and loving you all. And hoping that each of you finds the one great love in your life like your mother and I have done. I hope by now the three of you have found your way back to being family once more. That was our final parting gift—by pulling you apart, the three of you would come back together closer than ever. We love you. We always will.

  Papá and Mamma.”

  When Enzo finished reading the letter, stunned silence filled the room. His sisters swiped at their damp eyes. Enzo blinked repeatedly.

  It took Enzo time to absorb what he’d read. His parents may have made mistakes but how could he hold that against them when he’d been making one mistake after the next?

  And then he remembered something else his father had told him: Family means not giving up. No matter what.

  “I may not agree with Papá’s methods,” Bianca said, breaking the silence, “but he’s right. I feel closer to both of you than I have since we were kids.”

  “I agree,” Gia said.

  Enzo wasn’t sure he’d heard them correctly. “You mean you aren’t mad at me for not speaking up about the secret?”

  His breath caught in his chest as he waited for their collective answer. He knew he didn’t deserve a pass. If it had been reversed and they’d kept him in the dark, he’d have been very upset. But it didn’t keep him from hoping for forgiveness.

  “You should have told us,” Gia said.

  “You should have trusted us.” Bianca looked more hurt than angry.

  “But it’s over now. And you have to let this go,” Gia said, “before you’re so busy looking over your shoulder at the past that you miss your future.”

  “She’s right,” Bianca said. “Sylvie told us everything.”

  His eyes widened. “Sylvie told you about the baby?”

  Bianca nodded. “She did. She said she was going to sit on the news until you two figured things out, but she just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

  “Sylvie should be here with you—with us.” Gia’s pointed stare was directed right at him. “If you don’t go get her, I will.”

  “But the estate—”

  “Will be fine while you’re gone,” Bianca jumped in. “We’ll take care of things here.”

  “And if you want,” Gia said, “I can start renovations to turn this place back into the home we once knew it to be.”

  The thought appealed to him. Maybe that was why he’d felt such a
disconnect with the estate—his home no longer felt like a home but rather the hotel it’d become. “You would do that?”

  Gia smiled and nodded. “I’d love to.”

  Love for his sisters lifted the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  Gia’s gaze met his. “Easy. Go get your family.”

  Enzo made his way to his room to shower and pack. He was off to the city. But how was he supposed to prove to Sylvie that he’d always be there for her and the baby?

  Then he realized he couldn’t just expect Sylvie to change her plans once more; he knew he was the one who would have to make the concession this time. And a plan started to take shape.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SHE MISSED HIS smile and the warmth of his deep laugh.

  She missed the estate with its picturesque rolling hills and the horses.

  She missed all of it.

  Sylvie stuffed the sad thoughts to the back of her mind. That was her past. This was her future. It had been a week since she’d turned down Enzo’s marriage proposal.

  But was it a proposal? Not really. Traditionally, it would involve popping the question and he hadn’t asked her anything. Enzo’s mention of marriage was more akin to suggesting a restaurant for dinner.

  A marriage proposal should be filled with emotion. Love should be mentioned—in fact, it should take center stage. It didn’t have to be delivered on bended knee. A ring would be nice but not a requirement. However, for her the love part was nonnegotiable.

  Knock-knock.

  Sylvie turned from where she was washing her lunch dishes. She didn’t have to answer the door to know who was on the other side of it. The delivery guy from the florist downstairs.

  Every day that week, Enzo had sent her flowers with little messages.

  The first had said I’m sorry.

  The next had said I want to make things up to you.