Hidden Heir, Italian Wife

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Brielle Hughes was cutting the crusts off her three-year-old daughter’s toast when the keypad on her rent-stabilized Brooklyn apartment beeped.

“It’s only me,” her mother called out. “I came to ask if you saw the headlines.”

“About?” Bree ignored her phone in the mornings, preferring to give Sofia her undivided attention until she dropped her at day care and was headed to work.

“Your boss getting married. Good morning, good morning.” Melissa Diaz showered affectionate kisses on both of them, looking and smelling fantastic.

“I made a picture for you, Gigi.” Sofia tilted an earnest smile upward.

“Another one? I’m so lucky.” Melissa had moved with them to New York from Virginia Beach two years ago, to help Bree with day care. Last year, she had married the love of her life and now lived a few blocks away, but often dropped by unannounced as she headed out to start her own workday.

She was a stunning woman in her mid-fifties thanks to the skincare regimen she had developed as a beauty queen in her teens. Her startling blue-green eyes against chestnut brown hair and a honey-gold complexion meant she was often called “exotic,” which annoyed her, but her unique look continued to land her modeling gigs. They were usually ads for antiaging cream and book covers about midlife wellness, but they were a nice addition to the thriving photography business she ran with her husband.

Bree took after Melissa with a similar tall, slender build and unusual eyes, but she wore her hair in a sleek bob that she touched up with a straightening iron every morning.

“It’s on the fridge.” Sofia was their outlier, taking after the Italian American Bree had only known for a day. Sofia had dark brown eyes and near black hair that curled into ringlets when bound in a pair of pigtails like today.

“I’ll take it home when I come next time, so I don’t wrinkle it while I’m out today.”

“Are you talking about Sheila?” Bree asked as she slid the triangles of toast to Sofia. “She’s been married for years. I was at her twentieth anniversary last August.”

“Tank you, Mama,” Sofia said from her booster seat.

“You’re welcome, baby,” Bree said absently, watching as her mother pulled out the chair across from her.

“Your real boss.” Melissa clicked on her phone and quoted, “‘Domenico Blackwood married Evelina Visconti in a private ceremony yesterday, sending stock prices soaring.’”

“That must be a misprint. We’re not allowed to say the V-word at work. There’s a huge feud between the families.”

“That’s what I thought you told me when that story came out a few weeks ago, about those two being stranded on an island in Australia.”

“That’s also something no one dares mention around the office,” Bree said wryly.

“Well, they’re married now.” Melissa offered her phone.

Bree still had to dress and drop Sofia, but she quickly scanned the article, astonished to learn that yes, the owner of WBE, the hotel chain where she was an associate manager in operations, had married a woman purported to be his sworn enemy.

The press release was short, but a related article speculated what it meant for the competing hotel chains. Bree skimmed the recap of the legendary feud and glanced at the photos. The first showed the newlyweds, who were objectively gorgeous. There was a snapshot of Dom with his father, who had died before Brielle started at WBE.

A third photo showed the Visconti family: Evelina with her parents and—

“Oh, my Gawd .” She nearly dropped her mother’s phone into her scrambled eggs.

“What’s wrong?” Melissa frowned with concern.

Bree was incapable of speech. She used her trembling fingers to enlarge the image, focusing on the middle brother’s face.

It couldn’t be.

She flicked to the caption, reading it again, looking for the name Jax or Giacomo. How many times had she searched those names, lacking a surname and having only the vaguest sense he lived in Naples and had a family cottage on Lake Como? How many times had she tried to find him—or at least see if she could find him—despite the fact they had agreed their affair would only last one magical afternoon?

A single day that had created a miracle.

She flicked her gaze to Sofia, who was blinking curious brown eyes at her while licking peanut butter off her finger.

Bree looked back at the caption.

Evelina Visconti with her parents, Romeo and Ginevra, and her three older brothers, Nico, Jackson, and Christopher.

Jax.

He hadn’t lied to her. They’d both skipped full names so she couldn’t fault his keeping quiet that he was Jackson Visconti of the Visconti Group. They were WBE’s biggest competitor for more reasons than a family feud. Their hotel chain was renowned worldwide, with a head office a few blocks from where she worked for WBE.

She was aware that the Visconti properties were operated by the brothers, each with his own territory, but she’d never had reason to look them up, otherwise she might have found Sofia’s father sooner.

Here he was, staring up at her with an aloof expression and the undeniable sexual charisma she hadn’t been able to forget.

Or find in any other man.

“Bree,” Melissa said in a mother’s mixture of crossness and worry.

“I’m okay. Just surprised.” She passed the phone back to Melissa, who didn’t miss the way it wobbled in her grip. “Come sit with me before we leave,” Bree coaxed Sofia.

Her hands were cold as she gathered her daughter into her lap and hugged her, dropping a kiss on the part in her sweet-smelling hair.

“I don’t understand.” Melissa looked at the screen then back to her. “This marriage won’t affect your job, will it?”

Bree bit back a semi hysterical laugh. It could affect a lot more than that!

“The middle brother.” Over her daughter’s head, she widened her eyes with significance and nodded at Sofia.

“What!” Melissa got it right away and was equally shocked. “Will you tell him?”

Bree opened her mouth, thinking about how many times she had wished she could. From the moment she’d learned she was pregnant, she had wished she had not left his number behind in a fit of pique.

But would he want to know about their daughter? Bree’s father hadn’t wanted her. Not really. She would never want Sofia to experience that same cruel indifference. At least when she hadn’t known Jax’s full name, she hadn’t had to take that risk with her.

Now she had an avenue to reach him, but the reality of bringing him into their lives when she had built her world around being a single mother loomed as such a huge shift, she could only say truthfully, “I don’t know.”