CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
E NZO SAT AT his desk staring unseeingly at the screen in front of him. It had been a week since Charlotte had stridden out of his office and out of his life, leaving him a shell of the man he once was.
It had been seven days of constant what-if s. Of anger that she’d rejected all he had to offer, which was everything he could give. Of anger at himself for letting her leave at all. Shame at his parting words, knowing they’d found their mark and hurt her as much as he was hurting.
Seven days of being merely a shadow of the leader his company needed. Getting barely any sleep because Charlotte’s warm body wasn’t moulded to his. Rolling over onto cool sheets and jerking awake in panic at her absence, before reliving the hell of watching her leave.
He couldn’t bring himself to work out. Something that should have got his blood pumping, given him the energy to tackle the day, seemed like a waste of time. His discipline had faded, his routine smashed to pieces.
He had heard back from the lawyers. The issue with Emilio had been settled. Apparently, his brother wasn’t happy, but there was nothing Emilio could do. Even that brought Enzo no joy.
What a difference seven days made.
After hearing from the lawyers, he could think only of the things Charlotte had said in Ravello. They didn’t stop replaying over and over in his head.
‘I have chosen something different for myself, and you can do the same... You control your path.’
His obsession with the vineyards had deafened him to her then, but now that he had what he’d thought he wanted, Enzo had found himself finally understanding what she had been telling him. And it made the itch he felt about his father’s lie turn into a wound he couldn’t ignore.
The truth of his childhood was unveiling itself. All his life he’d wanted to make his father proud. Without complaint, he had picked up every challenge his father had laid down. It had turned him into the leader De Luca and Co. needed, into the conte Perlano deserved, but at no point had his father shown an interest in who Enzo was. In what he might have wanted. He was only ever given a goal to aim for and was encouraged to make that his whole life. Well, now he’d accomplished everything his father wanted of him, and instead of basking in his pride, Enzo was alone in his lofty office with no brother to talk to and a tainted memory of his mother.
‘He lied, Enzo.’
His father had lied to his mother for years, and instead of dealing with that, with the truth of who his father was, Enzo had defended his actions. God! He was a hypocrite. How could he hate lies so much and yet still accept it just because it came from his father? Just because it won him the vineyards? His mother had been betrayed. But Enzo had been so angry at her for trying to give the vineyards to Emilio. His brother who had spent so much time with their mother.
He’d thought Emilio was jealous, but now he saw it was so much more than that. His brother hadn’t received the slightest bit of attention from his father or any affection at all. No wonder their mother doted on Emilio. Favoured him. It didn’t excuse what she’d done, but maybe in her place Enzo would have tried to even the scales for Emilio too.
‘You didn’t receive any affection either.’
Enzo hadn’t received a Well done! He hadn’t received praise. Just acknowledgement that he had done what was expected.
He thought his father hadn’t failed him, when in truth his father had been so singularly focussed on his duty he’d failed his whole family. Enzo had wanted to secure the vineyards to honour his memory, the love his parents had shared. Now that he had his victory and no one to share it with, he realised how hollow it all was. His parents hadn’t shared anything at all.
He knew what it was to share a life now. He’d had a taste of it with Charlotte.
Her affection had been a wondrous thing. Her boldness. Her sass. He’d lost himself in it for a little while. She didn’t just dull the hurts he tried to bury deep within, she made them disappear. Pulling him from his anger. Saving him from his angst. Trying to show him the truth of his childhood. She’d wanted him to choose a better life for himself. Charlotte was in his corner. Until she wasn’t.
And that was his own fault.
Enzo looked beyond the door at her empty desk. A taunting reminder of what he’d lost.
HR had sent him options for a temporary replacement. As much as he needed someone, he didn’t want anyone. He didn’t want to see another person in that chair. He didn’t want to spend his days with a stranger who would pale in comparison to Charlotte. And he would compare them to her.
Without him realising it, Charlotte had become the benchmark against which all others in his life would be measured, and he knew he was ruined. For as long as he lived, he would crave one person for ever.
He missed her.
He missed her bright smile every morning. When he’d thought she was Celeste, he had considered her plain. When he thought back now, she was anything but. He couldn’t recall the drab clothes she wore. He remembered how her greeting formed such an integral part of his morning routine. Put him in the right headspace to lead. They had been a team. And he’d loved working with her. How her opinions lined up with his. How, whenever they didn’t, she challenged him in her own unobtrusive way. How she would try to pass off her own ideas as his. He had let her get away with that. He’d always been thinking along similar lines anyway.
A white empty espresso cup sat on his table. Enzo glanced at it. He had made his own coffee this week. Exactly as he had taught her. There was not the slightest difference in process, and yet he preferred it when she made it. He preferred everything she did. Charlotte had made his world better by just being in it. And he’d been blind to it.
Enzo cursed. How could a cup make him want to rip his heart out of his chest?
He pushed away from the desk and stood at the window. Pressing his palm to the glass, he looked at the city below. It didn’t take his mind off Charlotte because he’d noticed how she used to look out at the view every day and try to hide her smile. She’d loved it, even though she’d never allowed herself to be a real part of this city.
There was a lot he’d pretended not to notice.
Then it struck him. He’d trusted her so much more than he realised.
Whenever he picked up on anything that made him doubt people, question who they were, he called them out—but he hadn’t done that with Charlotte. As if he had known instinctively that she could be trusted regardless of her disguise. His throat clogged and his eyes misted when he—the man who trusted no one—realised the extent to which he had trusted Charlotte. Finding out about her true identity hadn’t really shaken his trust. If it had, he would not have taken her to Ravello or on his yacht. He had been clutching at straws when he told himself he couldn’t trust her. He had trusted Charlotte with his company. The lifeblood of his family. His family’s legacy.
He had trusted her so much that he had let her work in his mother’s study in Perlano. Had trusted her enough to open up to her about his heartbreak, the reason he couldn’t love. Enough to confide in her and let her comfort him.
Why had he been so blind to it before? His trust in Charlotte went so far beyond anything he should have felt towards a PA because she had never been just a PA to him. She had been a dependable constant in a life where he could depend on so few people.
He hadn’t been that for her.
Charlotte hadn’t been able to depend on him. She’d had to keep her identity a secret so long He had seen how the stress of it was wrecking her, but he’d done nothing about it until Milan. Bile rose in his throat when he thought of what he had said to her.
‘You’re welcome to protect yourself!’
‘Bastardo,’ he cursed himself aloud.
He’d been so set on letting her look after herself. If she thought she could, then she was welcome to it. But he had been hurting when he’d said it. Angry. Afraid of losing something—someone—he treasured. Scared she would leave. She’d left anyway.
Of course she thought she could protect herself. She had done so for two years. In that time she hadn’t thought she could come to him.
But what if he had been the kind of man she could have confided in? She didn’t need him. Charlotte didn’t need anyone. He was certain of that. She had more strength, more tenacity in her than anyone he knew. But he wanted her to need him.
‘What have I done?’
He wanted to protect her. To cherish her. To be the man she allowed in her life. She allowed so few in.
Idiota , she’s just like you and you let her go!
He wanted to be the man she ran to, not from. And she had run from him because she was right, in that moment: he had tried to control her. Hold on to her. Like he tried to control everything. Like he held on to the vineyards. But holding on that tightly tended to crush things, and that was exactly what he had done to her.
‘You’re mine.’
Enzo could kick himself. She’d told him how she was treated. Of course she would see his words as proof that he, too, wanted to own her. He needed to find her, to beg her forgiveness. He was possessive. His whole family was. They held on to things. That was how they amassed centuries’ worth of wealth. That’s what his father had done with the vineyards instead of sharing them with the woman he was meant to have loved. What Enzo had done too. What, he suddenly realised, Emilio had attempted to do. Emilio had only ever had his mother’s love. Of course he would have wanted the vineyards she gave him.
‘Maybe this could be a chance to get some of your family back.’
Charlotte had seen what he could not. Of course she had. She was always so perceptive. He’d always known that for someone of her intellect, being his PA was nowhere near challenging enough. But she’d always celebrated his wins as if they were her own. Just like him, she wanted to leave a mark, but her only option was to do so through him. How unfulfilled must she have been? Enzo felt his fists clench. He strode back to his desk, sitting so hastily his espresso cup rattled in its saucer. He had wasted a week. He wouldn’t waste another second.
Charlotte wanted more. Why wouldn’t she? A woman that smart and loving deserved the world. He leaned over his laptop, fingers flying over the keys. He was going to find her and tell her that she could have everything she wanted. She didn’t need to settle for a job just to have a life. It wasn’t one or the other. She didn’t need to live like a hermit. She didn’t need to choose safety over friends or love.
Love.
The word made Enzo’s mouth go dry and his heart race. In a cowardly act, he’d shunned love, but now he wanted it.
‘I don’t want to change you when I...’
He was so sure she’d been going to say she loved him. He only recognised now how badly he’d wanted to hear her say it, even if he hadn’t been ready. He’d wanted to hear it because he felt it too.
‘I love her,’ he said under his breath. ‘I love her, and I let her go.’
He slammed his hand against the polished wood, cursing loudly. How could he have been such an idiot?
But he would make it right. He would find her, and he would bring her back.
She’d been gone a week already. She could be anywhere. But there was one way he might be able to find her—and protect her while he did so.
He was going to track down Gordon Kim and Grant Campbell.
After Milan, he’d known he would need some insurance and had called on one of his fixers to dig into Kim’s and Campbell’s pasts, everything they wanted to keep hidden. What he already possessed might be enough to threaten them into leaving Charlotte alone, but that didn’t feel like enough for Enzo. He needed them to suffer a punishment from which they would never recover. When he was done, no one would ever do business with them again. Business would be the least of their worries.
He owed Charlotte that much. Even if she’d chosen to walk away from him, he would still protect her. He’d made a promise, and he kept his word.
They might even lead him back to her...
Hours ticked by like minutes. When he finally had enough and went to trace where the men were right now, his blood ran cold.
‘Cazzo!’ he cursed.
They had led him to Charlotte, but not because they had followed her to her new home. No, because Charlotte was in Perth.
And getting married to Campbell.
Enzo wouldn’t let that happen.
How had she ended up back there? How quickly had her father found her? Enzo was certain Charlotte was smart enough to evade Kim. Something about this didn’t sit right. And not just because the woman he loved was marrying another man. A man Enzo was now actively trying to ruin.
Time was up. Enzo had to act immediately or Charlotte would suffer. And there was no way in hell he was about to let that happen.
He grabbed his phone. ‘Get the plane ready. We’re going to Perth.’