Chapter Two #3
‘Just so you know, I barely bothered her during that cruise. I didn’t actually ask her for anything while she was away so any work she did, she did out of her own sense of responsibility.
In fact, in the end I had to get one of my techs to lock her out of the company intranet for a couple of days just to be sure she would actually have a break, and even then she was on the phone to me complaining about it.
That cruise was the only way Bruno was ever going to see the Northern Lights,’ he muttered.
‘I offered her the jet but as you already know, not only is Adele extremely good at her job, she’s irritatingly proud.
She wouldn’t just take a gift. She wanted to earn it and pay for it all herself but his medical costs were draining her savings, so that was the compromise we agreed on. She’s my best employee and I would—’
He broke off and growled.
Mia stared as he ran his hand through his hair and turned away from her. He looked and sounded sincere and for a moment she almost believed him. Adele was important to him. Yet, he’d gone off for days with no word and Adele hadn’t wanted to bother him?
He turned that hard, bottomless gaze back on her. ‘So you befriended Adele on board?’
Straight back to sceptical and suspicious.
‘Actually, I made friends with Bruno first. He’s an absolute gentleman and in her view that put her in my debt.’
He nodded.
‘So we both want her to focus on him now and not worry about what’s happening in here,’ Mia said.
He studied her. ‘Are you able to set aside your loathing and work for me?’
‘I’m able to do my best for Adele. Also your workers. They deserve that.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘You feel sorry for them?’
‘You only want your disparate group of brilliant coders and creatives to work together more so they’ll spit out more ideas for you to add to your billions. Like some kind of genius factory.’
‘Because you think I’m incapable of having my own ideas?’
‘You stole them in the past. I guess at least here you’re paying them.’
His eyes kindled. ‘Why do you need to work at all?’ he asked softly. ‘Didn’t your father leave you millions?’
She’d never taken anything from her father. Not even in his death. And she flared against the suggestion that she ever would. ‘You took more money from that man than I ever did.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yes,’ she hissed. ‘He paid you off after you crashed the car and ran away leaving Dario for dead.’
The difference between her and Sante was that he would take money.
It was all that mattered to him. He would jettison any person to get it and keep it.
But Mia needed autonomy and independence and to earn her own.
She’d rather starve in the streets than take anything from her father. A few times she almost had.
Sante didn’t seem to move. ‘Is that what he told you happened?’
She didn’t need to be told. ‘That is what happened. I was there.’
‘You saw me take your father’s money?’ he asked dryly.
She stiffened. No, she hadn’t actually seen the actual transaction. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. ‘You’re telling me it didn’t?’
‘Why would I bother? It’s not like you’d believe me.’
Right. Because Mia hadn’t just heard things. She’d seen things. She’d been there back then and he couldn’t deny they’d happened just by turning his soulful brown eyes on her.
‘You ran away from the accident,’ she said. ‘You ran,’ she added. ‘I saw you when they finally caught you and brought you to the hospital—’
‘I ran to get help,’ he interrupted bluntly. ‘I just ran in the wrong damned direction.’
Mia froze at the underlying fury in Sante’s goaded tone.
Dario hadn’t remembered anything about the accident.
Her father had relayed to her brother what the doctor had said.
What the police had said. What their school principal had said.
Her father had been the filter for everything both Dario and she had known about the accident and the aftermath.
Except for what Mia had actually seen, and she had seen Sante that terrible morning.
He’d been scared. He’d sounded guilty. He’d kept saying he was sorry.
She dragged in a breath. ‘You were pale—’
‘I was fine.’
She might’ve been young but even she’d known Sante was anything but fine.
He’d come to stay at Westwick for the summer only a few months earlier.
He’d taken up all Dario’s time and Mia had been left on her own.
She’d hated Sante for that. But honestly, she’d also been fascinated by her brother’s dark-eyed, quiet friend.
At the hospital she’d initially been pleased to see him.
She’d been alone in the reception area for hours.
Lonely. Hungry. Not understanding how unwell Dario really was but afraid he’d disappear from her life like their mother had.
That everything would change again and she would be alone for good. Because her father was no real father.
When Sante had been brought in she’d been too young to ask the right questions, to even understand what was going on. But she’d noticed his bloodied socks. The dried sweat and dirt, his pale face and the panic in his eyes.
‘He said you caused the accident,’ Mia muttered.
‘Dario—?’
‘Dario couldn’t remember anything about that night. My father said that’s what the police said.’
His gaze didn’t waver from hers. ‘Then why wasn’t I charged over it?’
‘Because Dad wanted to protect Dario from the stress of a trial. He needed time and space to recover.’ Including from her. ‘My father told the police not to prosecute you.’
‘And you think he was powerful enough to influence justice like that?’
Yes. But her breathing grew uneven. Her father was wealthy—might have thought he could control everything—but perhaps he didn’t have that power?
The police would have charged. In fact, knowing her father, he would have insisted on it.
Which meant he’d have been even more angry if there were no case to answer.
‘He said you were expelled from school. He said you took the money. That you agreed to stay away from Dario.’
‘I left the school before they could expel me. I didn’t take a cent from your father. I would never let someone else dictate who I could be friends with.’
She couldn’t believe him yet his assertiveness seeded the smallest of doubts.
‘Did Dario say I’d stolen his idea?’ Sante asked tightly.
‘You talked about coding and ideas all the time that summer.’
‘Not my app. He lied if he said we discussed that.’
Mia stared at him. Dario had been in recovery a long time. She’d been kept away from him. Ultimately, he’d become distanced from everyone.
‘He doesn’t talk about you,’ Mia admitted.
‘So you came to that wildly inaccurate conclusion all by yourself,’ Sante said acidly.
‘My brother and I are separate people,’ she said stiffly.
‘So he really doesn’t know who you’re working for?’
‘I didn’t know who I was working for until just over an hour ago,’ she reiterated with annoyance. ‘Dario has no idea where I am. We haven’t spoken in a few months.’
‘Why not?’
She gritted her teeth because she’d not wanted to open up as much as she had to him. ‘Adele and I have independence in common.’
‘You mean you won’t do whatever it is he wants you to.’
Given his audible judgement of Dario, she didn’t want to admit that Sante was right. But Dario wasn’t anything like her father. He wanted what was best for her.
Sante watched her dispassionately. ‘Are you going to tell him you’re working for me?’
‘He doesn’t need to know. He’s not my keeper.’ She needed to move forward, to get enough space to think all this through properly. ‘Dario is irrelevant now. As is my father. There’s no need for us to discuss anything personal ever again.’
He looked sceptical. ‘Can you work for me if you believe I would take a pay-off?’
‘My personal opinion of you won’t impact on my ability to do my job,’ she said. ‘I can be professional.’
Slowly, he stepped towards her.
‘But you don’t want me here,’ she muttered, annoyance growing as he towered over her. ‘Because you don’t want anyone to know the truth about your past.’
‘Is this the part where you demand payment for your silence?’
She stayed still, refusing to be intimidated into backing away from him. ‘That’s your playbook, not mine.’
‘So you’re not here to do anything other than—’
‘Help Adele. I made a commitment to her and I’m going to see it through. I’m going to do a good job.’
He stopped an inch away from being too close. ‘I’ll give you one week to prove it.’
‘You’ll give me my entire contracted time and I’m not the one with innocence to prove.’
‘But, Mia.’ He shot her a bitter smile. ‘Isn’t it guilt that normally requires proving?’