CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER EIGHT
D ESPITE THE EARLY HOUR , the sky was already bright as Enzo stood at the hotel suite’s window, gazing out at the slowly rising sun and the street below. Via Monte Napoleone was always busy, but it was far too early for any sort of traffic into the shops renowned the world over.
This was the first morning in a long time that he hadn’t woken to go for a jog and then a punishing gym session. Another break in his absolute discipline. This entire trip had been a challenge to him in every way.
Celeste had been a challenge.
He thought about the beautiful woman asleep in his bed. How long had it been since he had woken next to a warm body? Since Gia and Emilio’s betrayal, Enzo had tried to keep everyone at arm’s length. On the rare occasion that he had found the need for someone’s company overwhelming, he was always able to find a willing partner. And always just for the night. Always in secret, because he wanted to be seen with no one. It was a release for him, not a moment to share with the world.
With Celeste, it was all different.
Since the flight to Perlano it had been different. He had tried so hard to convince himself it was a bad idea to indulge in this maddening chemistry, but when he had seen her before the ball, he was lost. Lost to Celeste. Even creating some space at the ball had been a waste of time, because he felt pulled by her. Orbiting around her like she had become his sun. And seeing Charles Moreau’s hands on her, his whispers in her ear, seeing her smile at him had unleased a beast in his chest.
Enzo didn’t trust the man. If it was business he was after, he could go through the company. If it was Enzo’s knowledge of banking from his family’s long history of ownership, he could think again.
But it had been seeing Moreau with Celeste that had forced him to act, to claim her. To end the ridiculous charade of wanting to network when Enzo couldn’t give a damn about any person at that ball apart from her.
That kiss...he couldn’t stop thinking about it. And when she had confessed that she was a virgin... He was surprised by how much he liked the idea of her being his alone. Of never having to share her with anyone. It was irritatingly primitive, but he knew exactly what prompted it. Gia’s betrayal had changed a great many things.
Celeste was so different. There was nothing false about her reactions to him.
He wanted more of her. He would never love her. That was an absolute truth. If he’d had the capability once, then that was another thing Gia had destroyed. But he desired Celeste fiercely. A desire she reciprocated. So there was no harm in continuing what they’d started. It might not last for ever, but love didn’t last either. Love was fickle. Calling Celeste his was a truth. Their chemistry was honest. Enzo saw no reason why they couldn’t enjoy the wonder of their physical connection.
Last night had been a wonder. After years of not really seeing Celeste, finally seeing her walls down had been a joy, and he wouldn’t let her hide again, not from him. Not when he needed to see who people really were. Not when he vowed he would never be fooled by anyone again.
Enzo had cut Gia out of his life entirely, and if Emilio wasn’t his brother and an irreplaceable part of the family business, he would have faced the same fate. He didn’t care what face Celeste wanted to show the world, but with him—now that he had seen the real her—that was all he would accept.
Sighing, Enzo sipped at the espresso he had ordered from room service. Rich, aromatic coffee burst on his tongue. It was arguably one of the best he had tasted but still didn’t feel as right as the cup he had every morning in his office. That cup Celeste made him. She was in his blood. Was she already too close? Recently he seemed to say more than he meant to around her. He didn’t trust her yet, so he didn’t understand why he had told her about Emilio and Gia. When she asked him that question— Why don’t you ever have anyone in your life? —his mind had automatically begun sorting the pieces of the story in a way that made sense. Before he knew it, he was telling her everything.
Why had he wanted to? Why did it make the weight of that betrayal easier to bear?
He hadn’t seen pity in her eyes. He had been so angry at himself for not having realised what had been going on under his nose, but she didn’t think less of him.
Draining his coffee, Enzo walked back to the window, depositing the cup on the nearest flat surface without a thought.
He should be in that bed. Not out here trying to sift through his thoughts. His body ached for Celeste, despite the fact that he had kept her awake long into the night, showing her pleasure until her voice had grown hoarse and her eyes heavy.
This attraction, this chemistry was so different from anything he had known before. The intensity of his release with Celeste was mind-blowing. He’d marked her as his. And he held on to what was his.
Raking his fingers through his hair, Enzo stepped in the direction of the bedroom when he heard his phone ring.
Rushing back to the bedroom where he had left it, he hurried to answer before it could wake Celeste. He grabbed the phone and hurried out into the lounge, then looked at the number. It wasn’t one he recognised, but the Australian code caught his attention. For a second he considered ignoring it and letting it go to voicemail, but an instinct he had always listened to told him to answer.
‘De Luca.’ His voice was still slightly rough given the early hour.
‘Enzo De Luca,’ said a sneering voice he did not recognise. A voice that knew his private number. Several alarm bells went off at once in his head.
‘You have three seconds to tell me who this is or I’m hanging up,’ Enzo demanded.
‘Gordon Kim.’
Enzo had heard the name before. Now the number that flashed across the screen made sense. But what on earth did the property developer want with him?
‘We haven’t met,’ Kim said, ‘but you have something of mine.’
The man was out of his mind. They’d never even met. But Enzo had been in business a long time. He knew when to give an inch and when to stand his ground. Right now, he would not give any indication that he had no idea what Kim was talking about.
‘If I have it, then it’s not really yours anymore, is it?’
‘Hand over my daughter, De Luca.’
Enzo was not prepared for that response. He looked towards the bedroom as if he could see through the wall at the sleeping form of Celeste. Celeste who wore drab clothes to work. Celeste who couldn’t afford their signature wine. Celeste who had cut off her family for forcing her into an arranged marriage.
There was no way in hell Kim was talking about her. Was there?
‘What makes you think I have her?’ Enzo needed to know where he stood. He needed to figure out what was going on here. Men like Gordon Kim didn’t just call people up randomly. If he thought Enzo had his daughter, it meant she had left without telling her father. And whether or not the man had confused Celeste with his own flesh and blood, Enzo wouldn’t give up a woman to a situation she was trying to escape.
‘Don’t take me for a fool, De Luca. I saw you with her in Milan. I believe the event is called the Ballo del Sforza?’
Enzo cursed forcefully in his head.
Some small part of him was still hoping this was a case of a simple misunderstanding. He’d had spoken to numerous people last night. It was possible Kim could mean one of them and not the only woman who had held Enzo’s attention.
‘It’s a big event. You’ll need to refresh my memory.’
‘This isn’t a game, De Luca. I saw her with you on the balcony.’
Blood rushed in Enzo’s ears. His grip tightened on the phone as he tried to control his anger—anger, initially, at the fact that despite the strict rules of conduct at the ball, someone had still snapped a picture of them, and secondly, and perhaps more painfully, at the fact that Celeste Park was not who she claimed. He had been played for years! A red haze coloured Enzo’s vision. His hand curled into a fist that he very nearly drew back to throw into the wall. But he couldn’t because that would give up the game to Kim. So he fought to summon all the control he possessed.
‘Your daughter is an adult, Kim. If she wants to enjoy Milan with me, there’s nothing you can really do about it, is there?’
‘I’m telling you now, De Luca, return Charlotte to me or you won’t like what happens. I’m not a man to cross.’
‘Is that a threat?’ Enzo asked, voice smooth as silk, the smile on his face clear in his slow, deliberate speech. White-hot heat was coursing through him. He had been underestimated by his brother, by Gia and now by Celeste, but he would not be underestimated by a man like Gordon Kim.
‘And what if it is?’
Then, Kim would see what Enzo was truly like when he was unleashed.
‘I don’t take well to threats, Kim, so for your own sake, I suggest you stop now, or you will regret it. And unlike you, I don’t make threats. I make promises and I keep them.’
‘Am I supposed to be afraid of you?’
‘I don’t care what you fear,’ Enzo said calmly. ‘And I especially won’t care when I stand on your ruins. So heed my suggestion. Your daughter will decide if and when she returns to you. I don’t want to hear from you again. If you decide to be stupid and not obey my very polite request, know that I have the power to ensure that no bank backs any of your developments in the future.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Try me.’ Enzo hung up. Gently he placed his phone on the table. Heat radiated from every pore. His hands were trembling. Running them roughly through his hair, he cursed and tried to take a breath.
It was no use.
He swore loudly, giving into the rage that he couldn’t control.
Celeste. Charlotte.
She had lied about everything!
For two years she had had access to all. Two years she had dealt with his business. His family’s business. Two years of late nights and overseas meetings, all the while pretending to be someone else.
Enzo felt ill. He was pacing now, too agitated to remain still. Too far gone into his rage to even attempt control.
He had confided in her. Had wanted to hold on to her, and all this time he’d had no idea who she was. What did she want?
What about De Luca and Co? Had she been planted in his company?
Betrayed. Again!
Enzo was beyond reason. People kept proving over and over that they couldn’t be trusted. But this—this hurt even more than Gia and Emilio’s betrayal. Maybe it was because he should have known. He had hardened himself so much to the world, worked so hard to keep anyone from getting behind his barriers, but he’d wanted for Celeste—Charlotte—to be different.
Thinking back to the terrace, it felt like the knife in his chest was twisting. Wringing out every last drop of agony. He thought he had become smarter, but maybe this was the final lesson he needed to learn.
The pieces were finally falling into place. How she seemed like two different people. The glasses she wore but didn’t need. Her clothes, her manner that made her so inconspicuous in the office. It wasn’t that she was shy or lacking confidence. She had been hiding. But for what reason?
Enzo stopped pacing and turned to face the closed bedroom door. Celeste or Charlotte, whoever she was, was about to find out why Enzo wasn’t a man to cross. He needed answers and, want to or not, she was about to give them to him.
Charlotte burrowed deeper in the duvet. She tried to move closer to the warm body beside her, but cold met her bare skin. Slowly opening her eyes, she realised that Enzo wasn’t there and the sheets were cool to the touch. Goose bumps prickled her arms.
Rolling over, she plucked her phone off the bedside table. It was barely six thirty. How long had Enzo slept? He must have been awake a good long while. Charlotte didn’t understand how anyone could subsist on so little sleep.
She pushed herself up to rest against the pillows, feeling a pleasurable ache in her body that brought a smile to her lips. Images from the night before replayed behind her eyes.
Enzo’s mouth worshipping at her. Torturing her. It seemed to bring him as much pleasure as it did her. He had drawn her a bath afterwards. Gently and teasingly taking care of her. Caressing her skin with soap on his hands.
They had ordered room service but hadn’t eaten much when their hands were all over each other again.
It was as if that kiss at the ball had unleashed all their desire upon the world, and there was no hope of containing it now.
Not that Charlotte wanted to.
Their night hadn’t only been about passion. Enzo had opened up to her a little. But then he’d kept her busy, almost as though he wanted to prevent her thinking on his revelations. Or asking much more. She understood that need for privacy, so she’d let him sweep her away to a place where there existed only him, her and this unquenchable thirst for each other.
Charlotte would have liked nothing more than to get a few more hours of sleep, but there was no hope of that now. So she tossed the covers and padded, naked, to the bathroom where in the mirror she saw a red mark on her neck.
Enzo had left another on her breast and one far lower on the inside of her thigh. He was possessive, normally a thought that unsettled her, but the anger she’d felt radiating from him when she told him of the arranged marriage she’d escaped had eased that flare of unease. He wasn’t like Grant or her father. He would give her the choice of being his. He had proved as much in the way he made certain that she wanted him.
How could she not?
The more of him she saw, the more she craved him. His warmth. His safe embrace.
Temporary.
She reminded herself it had to be temporary. They couldn’t have a relationship in the light. Even though he had seen the real her, he still thought she was Celeste. She had to acknowledge that she was already playing with fire. She just prayed that she could prevent anyone from getting burned.
Charlotte freshened up and brushed through her dark hair. She would go in search of Enzo. Perhaps she could persuade him that breakfast in bed was a far more appealing proposition than work.
The thought made her stomach unfurl in that way it did only when Enzo was around.
She picked up the fluffy white robe that had been discarded on the bench at the foot of the bed. She was tying the belt around her waist when Enzo entered. He always sucked the air out of the room with nothing more than his presence, but with his hair tousled, his chest bare and those dark blue pants sitting on his hips in the most delicious way, bare feet carrying him towards her, there was not a force on earth that could get air back into Charlotte’s lungs.
She wanted to go to him. To run her hands over the planes of his torso. Trace her fingers over the corded muscle that held so much strength, but when she looked at him, desire faded away. A plummeting sensation replaced it in the pit of her stomach.
His eyes were burning. There was a look in them she had never seen directed at her. Fury.
He was a tempest of rage as he walked towards her. Tense. Lips in a thin line. A muscle feathering in his jaw. She felt every step like a cataclysmic earthquake and took a step back. Shrinking away.
Something was very wrong, but a small voice told her that he could have heard bad news about the vineyards. There was no need to panic just yet.
‘Are you a spy?’
‘What?’ Charlotte asked. Her heart beat frantically.
‘I said— ’ Enzo shouted, then grit his teeth, speaking calmly, icily, terrifyingly ‘—are you a spy? Have you been planted in my company to steal information?’
Charlotte’s mouth had gone dry. ‘Enzo! No!’
‘Then, to steal information from me?’
She knew then that he had found out who she was. Knew of her lie. She’d known this day would come. It was inevitable, but it was so much worse than she could have imagined. Why did it have to happen now, when she just wanted to pretend she could enjoy a little bit of happiness? A little bit of the joy that been missing in her life for so long.
She didn’t know exactly how much Enzo had uncovered, so she tried to hold on to the charade for a little while longer. Maybe she could calm him and convince him that she was the same Celeste he had known these past two years.
‘What are you talking about?’ Breathless. The lump in her throat made it hard to talk. To swallow. To breathe.
‘Do you take me for a fool?’ His voice was hard, trembling slightly at the obvious difficulty he had in controlling his ire. The tone sent shivers down her spine. She had never seen him this angry, and now it was hard to breathe for a different reason from only moments before.
Her eyes welled with tears that she couldn’t control. Scared for herself. Upset that Enzo would feel that she too was a liar. Someone who’d betrayed him just like the others. She wasn’t that person, and she needed him to believe her. She needed him to listen because being in his shadow made her feel a little safer.
‘Enzo, please,’ she begged.
‘Please what?’ He stalked towards her, and she took another step back. Her stomach gave a painful lurch that had her clutching at it. Hands searched the pockets in her robe, but she was in Enzo’s suite. There were no antacids here. Bile rose in her throat as her tears fell. She wanted to dash them away, but she couldn’t. She wanted to run, but there was no way around him.
‘You think I haven’t noticed?’ he spat. ‘You think I haven’t seen that you could be sitting in my chair, doing my job instead of outside my office as only a PA? You think I don’t know that you’re smart?’ He laughed, and it was terrifying. ‘Clearly smarter than I gave you credit for, because I fell for your trick, didn’t I? I saw your mask. I saw the plain woman you wanted me to see and didn’t question my instincts. The woman happy in her job. But I was the fool, wasn’t I?’
‘No!’
‘No? I have seen how different you are from your act! We came here, and your mask slipped. The clothes, your name, the glasses—it’s all a lie. I saw you forget them. I saw you read that wine label. Tell me, was seduction part of the plan too?’
Charlotte tried to say his name, but nothing would come out.
‘Thank you. Thank you for showing me exactly why I don’t trust anyone,’ Enzo said, enraged.
‘Please, Enzo, you have it all wrong.’
She saw it then. Her words had only thrown fuel on an already raging inferno. He was nearly wild with fury, and she retreated. The hard, immovable wall pressed against her back, and she had nowhere else to go. And then Enzo was against her, his hands slamming on the wall on either side of her head. His breath ragged.
‘I want answers, Celeste.’ He huffed out a breath. ‘I should stop calling you that. Since you haven’t given me your actual name, shall we go with Liar ?’
Charlotte couldn’t stop her tears from flowing now.
‘I want the truth before I throw you out and never think of you again.’
His words were like knives plunging deep into her chest. She had wanted to be unmemorable, but the thought of Enzo forgetting her hurt. The thought of him hating her was nearly unbearable. And the thought of her father finding her was suffocating.
She opened her mouth to respond, but again nothing came out. Once Enzo threw her out, she would have nowhere to hide. She would have to fly back to Sydney, and it would be only too easy for her father to find her. To take her back to Perth and force her to marry Grant Campbell. His leering face in her mind had her nearly hyperventilating.
‘I—I can’t,’ she sobbed.
‘Why?’
Fear. Pure undiluted fear was coursing through Charlotte. Her body felt as if it wasn’t hers. As if she was levitating. Adrenaline pumping. Making it hard to think. To speak.
It must have shown on her face, because she saw Enzo pause. His face that had been all hard angles a second before softened a touch.
‘Are you afraid to tell me?’ His voice was still a growl but had lost the edge of absolute hate.
All Charlotte could do was nod.
Enzo pushed off the wall and took a deep breath. His gaze still held cold heat, but she could see the control he had mastered over himself.
His hands settled on her robe-covered shoulders, and she let him steer her to the couch.
‘Sit,’ he ordered.
She obeyed at once. A few short hours before, they had been entangled on that bed before her. Now she sat stiffly, an ache forming in her back. Awaiting Enzo’s sentencing of her.
‘Speak,’ he said, in what Charlotte imagined was as calm a tone as he could manage. The fact that the growl hadn’t left his voice nor had the tremble in his muscle abated showed he really wasn’t that calm at all.
Charlotte had to force air into her lungs. Force herself—against every instinct she had—to tell him the truth.
‘My name,’ she started in a small voice, ‘is not Celeste Park but Charlotte Jane Kim. My father is Gordon Kim, the property developer.’
She saw Enzo nod, his face impassive, encouraging her to keep speaking. She had to. For her safety. For what she and Enzo had shared.
‘What I told you before is true. My father was trying to force me into an arranged marriage with a businessman in Perth, where I’m from. His name is Grant Campbell, and he is well-connected but not in the way you are. Grant has local councillors in his pocket so he could get any property he wanted. Any land in a whole host of different councils.’
‘Your father would do the development, and they would split the profits,’ Enzo said, sitting on the coffee table in front of Charlotte.
‘Yes.’
‘Why were you being forced to marry Grant, and what does this have to do with me?’
Charlotte felt nauseated by what she had to say next. ‘Grant had been in the picture for a while—I mean years, Enzo,’ she said, trying to get him to understand her horror. ‘He had his eye on me, and then when it suited him revealed to my father the extent of his influence. Grant’s condition for the deal was that my father hand me over. He coveted me as a possession. I was twenty when this happened, and by twenty-one I was forced to become engaged to him. It was insurance that I would be his. He would tell me that once we were married, I would remain at home. I wouldn’t need to work. It would be my job to see to his needs alone.’ She fought the shudder that passed through her body and could see the simmering anger in Enzo’s eyes reignite.
‘If you were removed from play, would the deal fall through?’
‘Yes. It would be proof that my father couldn’t follow through on his word. Couldn’t do whatever was necessary.’ The tears that Charlotte had managed to control fell once more. ‘I pleaded with my father, Enzo. I begged him for years to get me out of this situation. He refused. When they set the wedding date, it was the final straw. I couldn’t... I asked my father then if Grant was more important than me and he said yes .’ Her voice broke just as her heart had then and as it had every time she replayed the words in her head. ‘I had to leave. I knew he would never pick me over Grant. Money would always come first to him. I would be alone in a loveless marriage, treated as nothing more than an object. I couldn’t do it. I worked hard in my studies. I had my own ambitions, and it all meant nothing.’ Charlotte dashed the tears away with the back of her hand and noticed Enzo’s twitch towards her, but he held back.
‘So you left.’
Charlotte nodded. ‘I pretended that I was coming around to the idea of marrying Grant. My father bought the act and was pleased. When I told them that I was going to check out a place for the very specific décor I had in mind, it just looked like I was getting caught up in the excitement of the wedding. The ceremony was a means to an end, so no one else really cared about the details. I packed one bag and fled. I left my engagement ring behind in a drawer. It was a shackle. I wasn’t asked. I hadn’t said yes .’
‘Where did you go?’ Enzo asked in a voice that was no more than a growl. She could tell he was still angry, but there was a shift in it, and she didn’t know what that meant. Was he still angry at her? Where would she be at the end of this conversation?
‘Straight to the airport. I had planned my escape. I knew how much time I would have to empty my accounts. I dumped my car and bought a cash ticket to Sydney and started over. I invented Celeste as a secret identity so my father wouldn’t find me. I had to split the money I brought with me into so many different accounts so that no one account had an amount worth noticing.’ Charlotte stood and dashed to the lounge where she retrieved her purse from the night before. She pulled out her wallet, opened it and held it out to Enzo, showing him all the bank cards. It was like showing him all the fractured pieces of her she had to hide. Had to be constantly aware of. Showing him what her life had become.
Enzo flipped through the various bank cards. Each with a different name.
‘How did you manage to fake your identity with the banks?’ He had been so angry at Celeste—Charlotte—after the call, but now he felt only sympathy. Anger still swirled within him, but it was only for what she had to endure. She was brave beyond measure, despite how scared she looked right now. That fear only made him angrier. Her tear-stained cheeks. Wide eyes. The nervous way she fidgeted with her robe. Nervous, he realised, not just because of what she was running from and what she was revealing, but unnerved by him. He had scared her. The way she’d backed away from him until she met the wall, the look on her face—it was like a deer being hunted. Enzo had done that to her, and he had never felt such disgust at himself. But he could make it right. He had to. He would make Charlotte understand that she was in no danger from him. That he wanted to help her. He had always wanted to help her; that was why he’d pushed for her to attend the ball. The very reason they were in this predicament now.
But he preferred this. No matter how hard it was, the truth was always preferable to any lie.
‘Let’s just say a very substantial chunk of money disappeared on the way,’ Charlotte said. Enzo slipped the cards back into her wallet as he listened to her talk. ‘I don’t go out. I don’t have friends. I can’t risk anyone taking a picture of me or recognising me, but a quiet, lonely life is better than the alternative.’
Was it?
The life she lived wasn’t a life at all. Marriage or not, Charlotte had lost the ability to live the moment her father had traded her for business.
Enzo could understand her reasoning. He had chosen a lonely path too. One without anyone he could trust. Relying on himself was always the smartest play, but it was hard. But at least he didn’t have to hide.
Charlotte’s reluctance to go to the ball made so much more sense now. Her concern was warranted because her father had seen her, despite the measures Enzo had taken to protect her. But Enzo knew he could protect her; he just hadn’t known what he was facing—what she was facing—but now that he did, he could make sure she remained safe. Help her untangle her life so she didn’t need to hide pieces of it.
Pushing to his feet, Enzo swore under his breath.
He knew of Grant Campbell. The name had come up once when De Luca and Co. had been looking for land to erect a satellite office, but Enzo hadn’t trusted the man and opted to do business with someone else. Grant was nearly forty. The thought made his skin crawl.
Enzo heard Charlotte speak behind him as he went to the dresser, retrieving a pack of antacids.
‘I can’t go back, Enzo. Even if I’m costing my father money. I just can’t.’
He crossed back to her, handing over the box. A momentary look of confusion flashed on her face before she pushed out a tablet from the blister pack and popped it into her mouth.
‘When you told me you were meant to take over, you were talking about inheriting your father’s empire, weren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Charlotte said, toying with the box in her hands. ‘With my half sister.’
‘And whichever way this works out for you now, she gets the company, I take it.’
Charlotte nodded.
‘Which is why she never bothered to help you.’
‘Yes.’
The flash of anger in his veins at that small affirmation was so intense that his vision blurred with it.
‘I wasn’t aiming to involve you, Enzo. I just saw a job I wanted. A place I could use my education. Somewhere that would make me fulfilled. Plus you’re known for keeping your private life private, so I jumped at the chance. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.’ Charlotte fiddled with the box in her hands. ‘I was convinced that it wasn’t really a lie to be someone else. I thought I would only ever be Celeste to you. To everyone. I was trying to become her, because being Charlotte wasn’t safe. Celeste would have allowed me to have a life on my own terms. Safety. I could lie to everyone else, but it was hard to lie to you, Enzo. I wanted to tell you every day. I wanted you to call me Charlotte. I wanted it so much that you’re the only person I slipped up with. Only you.’
Seeing Charlotte like this cut through him like a sword. She was bright, sexy, intelligent, breathtakingly beautiful—but the woman before him now was worn down. Scared. It was unacceptable.
Kneeling before her, Enzo took her hand in his and held her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. ‘Your father called me. He wants you back, but I won’t let that happen. I wish you had told me sooner, but it doesn’t matter now. I will protect you, Charlotte. All I ask is that you are always honest with me.’
‘I can do that.’
He scooped her up as he stood and moved to sit against the headboard with Charlotte on his lap. Cradling her head against his bare chest, he could feel her quiet tears. The hand against her head travelled down to her neck where he felt her pulse thrum rapidly.
‘Relax, tesoro . I won’t let anything happen to you.’