CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER NINE
C HARLOTTE FOUND HERSELF in Enzo’s plane once again. Except this time, she was in the one area she had seen the least. The bedroom.
After she had confessed everything to him, Enzo had held her until she was able to breathe and then for a while longer, his tight grip becoming a soft embrace.
It wasn’t long after that that he announced they would be leaving. All he said was that they were going somewhere safe.
‘Will you still not tell me?’
‘No.’ He smirked, pulling her closer so their bodies pressed together in the most delicious way under the covers. ‘You said you wanted to see more of Italy. Well, now you will.’
‘My father knows where I am, Enzo. I can’t go anywhere.’ Ever since Enzo had told her that Gordon knew where to find her, Charlotte had an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Her neck constantly prickled as if she was being watched. And while she did feel safe around Enzo, it wasn’t enough to overcome years of anxiety.
‘No one will find you where we are going. I promised to protect you. I am not a man to go back on my word.’
She knew that. Integrity was important to her, and she had always admired his.
He kissed her forehead, fingers combing through her inky hair. ‘You’re safe with me, Charlotte.’ How she had craved to hear him speak her name. She loved the way it sounded when he spoke it. Freeing, that’s how it felt. A weight had fallen off her shoulders in being honest with Enzo. It made her hopeful that maybe she could live as herself again, but that was a terrifying prospect.
‘You’re thinking too much, tesoro . You have kept yourself safe alone for all this time. Sharing this burden with me will make it easier.’
He was right. She forced herself to remain calm and closed her eyes.
When Charlotte awoke, she was in the passenger seat of a car, with Enzo driving, his dark sunglasses perched on his nose. His powerful legs were clad in dark blue denim, a black V-neck T-shirt hugging his incredible physique. The sight made everything below Charlotte’s waist tighten.
‘Good, you’re awake,’ Enzo said. She felt her cheeks redden at having been caught staring, but it was an impossibility not to. ‘We’re almost there.’
‘And where is that?’
‘I am glad that you don’t give up. I admire your tenacity.’
‘But you’re still not going to tell me.’
‘You would be correct.’
‘You know, you can be very aggravating, Mr De Luca.’ Charlotte folded her arms across her chest, but Enzo reached over and threaded his fingers with hers, bringing them to his lips, kissing her sweetly on the back of her hand. The touch sent sparks shooting all the way down her arm.
‘It will be worth it.’
Charlotte fell silent, choosing to look out the window for clues as to where she was, but nothing was familiar to her. When a town finally appeared in the near distance, Enzo spoke.
‘Welcome to Ravello.’
Charlotte turned to him with a beaming smile. She had heard of Ravello’s beauty, had always wanted to sail along the Amalfi Coast, but after she ran, she had said goodbye to those dreams. The very last trip she had taken for herself had been a girls’ getaway with her friends to Santorini. In her heart, it had been her way of saying goodbye without having to say anything to them.
Now Enzo was giving her the things she wanted and needed. The ability to be herself. Safety from her father. The opportunity to see the parts of Italy she had really wanted to experience.
Now that her father knew that she was with Enzo, he would likely suspect that she would hide in Perlano. That would be until they booked in somewhere.
‘Where are we staying?’
‘My home.’
‘Your...’ Charlotte trailed off. As his PA, she knew of every single one of Enzo’s private properties. But she had no idea that he had so much as a bench in Ravello.
‘It’s my private residence. No one knows about it. No one has been there.’
‘Then, how do you maintain it?’
‘I bought the property and manage it through a fund. I don’t deal with anyone personally, and everyone who has access to the property has had to sign a strict non-disclosure agreement. Believe me, you are safe here.’
If Enzo had gone to such lengths to keep the place private, it was obviously important to him. Living life in the public eye must get tedious, so she could understand him needing somewhere to retreat. What struck her the most was that he was opening up this secret location to her.
‘When you say no one knows about it—’
‘I mean no one. I have brought not a soul here, Charlotte. Not even my mother.’
Charlotte was lost for words. She watched as they navigated the narrow, winding road to the top of a cliff, then turned onto a private lane with high walls on either side. At the end was a large gate, laced with lush creeping leaves that formed a solid-looking barrier. Not even sunlight seemed to poke through the green lattice.
Slowly the gate swung inwards, and when they drove through, Charlotte saw nothing but a plot of grassy land. They followed the drive as it swept to the right, turning in a hairpin until they came to a large garage door surrounded by a stone structure. She realised that part of the grassy plot was directly overhead as they drove into a cavernous garage.
Enzo parked the car and led her to a biometric sensor. He pressed his thumb to it, and the large wooden doors opened, admitting them.
Soft light flicked on as they walked through the house. Charlotte followed Enzo in silence, and when they reached the large open-plan living area, her breath caught. The villa was huge, made up of cascading levels cut into the cliff. Lush grass and hanging gardens flowed from one level to the next. The outside of the house had looked old, historic. The inside, however, was a marvel of modern design, technology embedded into every aspect of the villa.
This place reflected Enzo perfectly. His love and respect for history. His passion for modernity and efficiency. Yes, the estate at Perlano was beautiful—glorious in its long history, its legacy—but this was spectacular for a whole other reason.
‘This place is amazing.’ Charlotte walked to the large window affording unparalleled views of the coast.
Enzo wrapped his arms around her waist, his lips brushing against her neck. ‘No one will find you here. The glass is one-way. No one can see in.’
Charlotte could scarcely breathe. ‘Thank you, Enzo.’
‘I keep what’s mine safe,’ he said, fingers working to untie the belt that kept her wrap dress closed. He split apart the fabric, hands trailing down her stomach until they slipped beneath the band of her panties, making her gasp and throw her head back against his shoulder.
His words and his fingers sent shivers down her spine. She did feel safe in this place. She was utterly vulnerable at this window, but she felt nothing apart from intense pleasure. She was at the mercy of his wicked fingers.
‘Let me hear you,’ he demanded, and with a keening cry she called his name. She turned in his arms, seeing the satisfied smirk on his face. Feeling against her stomach the effect she had on him.
She was about to kiss him, about to turn the tables on him, when a hard vibration from his pocket caught both their attention.
Enzo took a look at his phone, his smirk falling from his face.
‘I have something to take care of,’ he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. ‘Why don’t you go for a swim?’
Charlotte looked over her shoulder at the pool outside. She was safe inside. While the crystal blue water looked more than inviting with the sun brightly baking down, there were no barriers outside. No biometric doors or smart-glass walls.
‘Charlotte,’ he said, cupping her cheek, ‘do you trust me?’
Of course she did. She’d told him things she’d hoped no one would ever know. ‘Yes.’ She hoped he heard her fervour.
‘It doesn’t matter where you go on this property, no one will see you. I wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise.’ She saw him drop his head and sigh before he touched his forehead to hers. ‘You’re not living, tesoro . You’ve run so you could have freedom, but you don’t have it. You won’t let yourself. You can’t deprive yourself of everything that could give you joy and still call that living.’
Charlotte had no answer. He was right. She kept telling herself that she’d fled to have freedom. That everything she sacrificed was worth it. That being alone, being lonely, was worth every minute of freedom she had. Yet she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to the beach or eaten out or laughed with friends. She didn’t even have any friendly acquaintances at work because she was too afraid it would lead to her being dragged back and forced into a marriage with a vile man. She used to love going down to Leighton Beach, her favourite place, with her friends. But she had given it all up.
Charlotte was away from her father and Grant, but mentally she was no more free now than she had been back then.
‘You’re free to do as you wish here. Just know that whatever that is, you are protected.’ Enzo kissed her forehead and left her standing near the kitchen.
Charlotte watched him leave, knowing what choice she should make to live again, but she couldn’t make it right now. Glancing over her shoulder to take one last look outside, she followed Enzo. She was certain that whatever message he had just received had something to do with the vineyards.
She walked into his study and saw him behind his glass desk with his laptop set up, clicking through something, a look of intense concentration on his face.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Before my mother’s death, I contacted a company that specialised in the restoration, preservation and archiving of historical documents.’
‘I remember that.’ Charlotte had been the one to research the different companies and hand a shortlist to Enzo. Every single piece of historical paper, no matter how old, had been entrusted to them. It had surprised Charlotte that no one had thought to preserve the documents before—she would have—but it hadn’t surprised her that Enzo had been the one with the foresight to secure the De Luca legacy. The process was long and arduous. Each page had to be carefully handled and scanned, turning it into an accessible digital copy, then storing the delicate document safely away from air or light.
‘Even copies of my father’s documents were handed over.’
‘From the office in Perlano?’
‘And elsewhere. The recording process is finally done.’
With the ownership of the vineyards hanging in the balance, Charlotte could see the value in it coming through now. She was glad she’d chosen Enzo over a swim, because whatever he found now could either lose him the vineyards or ensure his claim. Either way, she would show him he could trust that she would be there for him.
Enzo scanned through each document, quickly opening and closing various files, looking for the agreement his father would have had his mother sign when he transferred the vineyards to her. It would undoubtedly have contained the terms of her ownership, giving Enzo definitive proof they were meant to be his. His father was far too scrupulous a businessman and dedicated to his duty to their family legacy not to have put something in place. It was only a matter of finding it.
He felt Charlotte’s presence close by him. He was grateful for it, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen skimming through each file but not finding what he was looking for. In fact, there was no record of his mother ever having owned the vineyards at all.
‘Something is missing,’ he said out loud.
‘What is?’ Charlotte asked beside him.
‘My father gifted the vineyards to my mother, but there is no record.’ Having the exact date of the transfer would make his search easier. Hoping to find it, he pulled up the land registry in a new tab and searched through the database. He only knew the year—twenty-five years prior, when he’d been seven years old. Old enough to remember the conversation when his father had informed his mother of the gift. Old enough to remember her happiness.
What he found in the registry brought him to a halt. ‘This makes no sense.’
Enzo saw his own name staring back at him. For eight years the vineyards had belonged to him. He’d inherited them when he had inherited everything else from his father’s estate.
‘What doesn’t?’
He didn’t answer Charlotte and instead searched through the site and then the files he had digitised.
‘Enzo, talk to me.’ Charlotte moved to stand in front of him.
‘My father told her that he had already done it. That she would have to leave them to me in her will, but they were hers for life. He lied.’
An uncomfortable prickling covered Enzo’s skin. His father, the man he had looked up to, had wanted to emulate, had lied.
He pressed his fingers to his eyes.
‘I don’t understand,’ Charlotte said.
‘Emilio has no claim on the vineyards because my father never transferred them to my mother,’ he replied gruffly, showing Charlotte the evidence on the screen. ‘He lied to her. I never bothered to look into it because I trusted him. Ownership went straight from him to me. They have been mine since his death.’
How could his father have lied? Of everything in the world, trust was the most important to Enzo, and he trusted his father. Wanted to be half the man that his father had been. The man who had protected hundreds of years of legacy and made it thrive. Enzo couldn’t believe that that man would have done anything without a very good reason. So maybe there was one to explain his actions. After all, he had never lied to Enzo, only his mother. The mother who had given Enzo his birthright and then tried to take it away to give to Emilio, the son she had always favoured.
There was a burning lump in his throat. Holding on to Charlotte’s hips, he pulled her down onto his lap.
‘Oh, Enzo.’ He felt her arms wrap around his neck, holding him to her.
‘He didn’t trust my mother. Maybe she never trusted him either. After all, that second will exists.’ Enzo’s hands clutched at Charlotte’s dress in a tight fist. His teeth were clamped together so hard it felt as if his jaw might shatter.
‘Do you think he was justified in lying to her?’ Charlotte’s words were gentle, but there was an undercurrent to them.
‘She defied the one condition he placed on the gift, Charlotte. Maybe he knew her better than I did.’
‘He still lied, Enzo,’ Charlotte said, patiently.
Yes, his father had lied. And his mother had lied to him.
And Emilio had lied to everyone.
Would the betrayals never end? His family were incapable of being trustworthy. His father’s lie felt like a splinter in Enzo’s skin. But he couldn’t deny that it had protected the vineyards.
‘My father isn’t the problem here. My mother did betray him.’ Enzo laughed without mirth. ‘They betrayed each other. There was no trust.’ The realisation was like acid in his throat. He had always thought of his parents as having the perfect marriage, one that compared to his great-great-grandparents’. To him the vineyards were exactly the same as the fountain at Perlano: a symbol of the love they shared. But he was blind. Blind to so much. Looking back, he could have—no, should have—learned his lesson on trust from watching them. It would have saved him from learning it the hard way.
His mother was never included in decision-making, not at De Luca and Co. nor at Perlano, despite being the contessa, and she never included their father in her business dealings either. Emilio had inherited all that belonged to her. His father had left nothing to her, only to Enzo. There was such a clear divide between them that Enzo couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it for what it was it before now.
‘Enzo,’ Charlotte whispered, cradling his head against her chest, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you’re having to question things when you can’t get answers, but maybe they both did what they thought was best in their own misguided way.’
‘Misguided? From where I’m standing, my father is the reason those vineyards are safe. He must have known that my mother might give them to Emilio.’
Charlotte looked at him. ‘But Emilio was his son too. Even if they did fall to him, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. You would have had everything else. The company which owns the winery. All Emilio would have had would have been the grapes. The wealth would have remained in the family, so why would the idea of Emilio getting the vineyards be so upsetting that your father would betray your mother’s trust?’
The question had Enzo reconsidering his childhood. Every memory he had of his father was of just the two of them. Alone. He’d been trained to take over alone. Had Emilio been deliberately excluded?
Except what Emilio had been excluded from was never meant for him. Emilio had always had their mother’s affection. All that time that Enzo had spent with his father, Emilio had spent with their mother.
Really, Enzo should have expected her to betray him for Emilio.
‘I was the one qualified to take over, not Emilio. Since I was a young boy, my father took me to the company, to the wineries, on his business trips. When his health failed, he was happy to have me take the reins because I had been trained since I could walk. I was the one he could rely on.’
‘Did he do any of that with Emilio?’ Charlotte asked.
‘No, Emilio was tutored privately in Perlano. My mother looked after him.’
‘Do you have any memories of your father that don’t relate to work?’
Enzo was forced to think hard, and he came up with nothing. ‘Only that he would have dinner with us. That was our mother’s rule.’
‘Enzo, don’t you see? Maybe Emilio was jealous of the affection you received, and maybe that’s why your mother defied your father’s instructions, but you need to see that you didn’t receive any affection either. You were groomed to be the Conte del Perlano . That’s not how a father should be with their child. You were more than a project, meant for more than duty. But you didn’t have a chance to think of anything else, have any dream other than the one your father set out for you.’
‘How can you know that?’ Enzo sniped, trying to push her off his lap, but she stubbornly refused to move. She took his face in her hands, and he was forced to give her his attention.
‘Because I was raised to take over my father’s empire, and when I was more useful as something to be traded, he did that for his company to prosper. We are more than just pawns for our fathers’ legacies.’
Enzo shook his head, refusing to believe Charlotte’s words. ‘That daunting path, the legacy, was my own, laid out before birth. I never shied away from it, Charlotte. I took it all on. Emilio has nothing to complain about. Nothing to be jealous of. He wasn’t deprived of affection, and I wasn’t a pawn.’
‘Isabella told me she calls you Leoncino because even when you were little you wanted to protect others. You updated the kitchen because you wanted to take care of your mother. Did you ever consider you wanted others to feel what you didn’t?’
That drew him up short. No. He hadn’t ever thought about it. Given Charlotte’s history he could understand why she saw things that way, but they weren’t the same. Enzo’s father hadn’t failed him.
‘Being groomed to take on the family legacy isn’t the same as care and protection,’ Charlotte continued. ‘It isn’t love. I have chosen something different for myself, and you can do the same, Enzo.’
Charlotte had chosen a path for herself, but Enzo didn’t need to. There was no reason to hide from who he was. Yes, his path had been set by his father, and even if it was disappointing that his father had lied at all, Enzo still respected his utter devotion to the family legacy. And what was more, his father’s actions had confirmed to Enzo that he was right not to trust anyone. His distrust of his wife meant that the vineyards were safe, that Enzo could be done with this whole second-will situation.
Enzo would hold that lesson close. Especially now that he had someone else in his home. His parents had been married for nearly thirty years without trust. He would bear that in mind with Charlotte too.
‘None of this matters,’ he finally said. ‘This—’ he pointed at his laptop ‘—settles the issue of ownership. That was the only goal.’
Charlotte sighed. ‘Send the email,’ she said almost tiredly, ‘but Enzo, it matters a great deal. How you and Emilio were treated caused this conflict in the first place. Coming to terms with who your father really was will be hard. You wish he was the person in your head, but the reality of it hurts.’
He read longing in her eyes. Hurt in her downturned lips. That was her reality, not his.
‘I don’t have any words that can make this better,’ she said. ‘You need to allow yourself to grieve the loss of who you thought your father was, but, Enzo, maybe this could be a chance to get some of your family back.’
‘There’s nothing to grieve, and there’s too much history there. What my father did to Emilio might have been misguided, but to have sex with my fiancée in my home was Emilio’s own choice. He broke that trust.’
Emilio was the reason Enzo was so unforgiving. Why he didn’t love or trust or give second chances. Too much had happened. An entire lifetime. All Enzo truly wanted now was peace so that he could go back to his company, and Charlotte. Because when he sank into her, he could pretend the world was exactly as he wanted it to be. He could ignore the unease in his gut.
‘It’s up to you. Just know you control your path,’ she said, getting off his lap. And as if she was showing him how to make a different choice, she tugged him along as she made her way outside, shedding her clothes. When they reached the pool, she let go of his hand and dived in.