Chapter Seven
ASTRID AWOKE DISORIENTATED, her mind taking a moment to process the sound of birds chirping and the smell of coffee.
Her last memory was of sleepily clutching her phone to her ear as she’d finished guiding Jem through her upcoming university interview, then saying goodnight to Luca.
The phone was now thrown on the opposite side of the bed and the covers were tied around her legs as though she had tossed and turned for the entire night.
That would explain the panicked dreams she’d had of being pursued in the dark, she thought as she rose from the bed and felt her muscles ache in response.
She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but she supposed the adrenaline of the day was bound to find her eventually.
The very idea that twenty-four hours ago she’d been focused on a simple job and entirely unaware of how starkly her life was about to change was an uncomfortable one.
Much like her small son, she wasn’t fond of change but, where Luca railed against it and felt the effects acutely, Astrid usually found a way to re-centre herself and find control.
Control was not just something she enjoyed, it was something she required.
And it was something she’d had the full privilege of with regard to her son since he’d been born.
The memory of the look in Apollo’s eyes the night before when he had asked her if Luca had ever asked about his father sent a shiver down her spine as she rose and walked into the bathroom, taking in her sleep-worn expression in the bathroom mirror.
Would he be fair in their approach to co-parenting?
Would he want more than she was prepared to give?
Worries and ‘what if?’s swarmed her thoughts as she stripped off and took a quick shower.
Not even the hottest temperature and a shelf of luxury products could assuage the tension in her spine as she absent-mindedly towel dried her short brown locks before twisting them into a sleek chignon.
By the time she’d dressed in her preferred uniform of stretchy pencil skirt and lilac blouse, she’d talked herself through every potential scenario and decided she was being ridiculous to worry so much.
Sure, Apollo was insanely wealthy and came from a powerful family, but he was not a villain.
With his lifestyle, she highly doubted that he had any intention of fighting her for full custody or anything of the sort.
Likely, the best-case scenario that she could hope for was that he wanted a relationship with Luca.
That he would want to catch up on the time he’d lost, plan some visits and find a way to see him occasionally.
As for Luca, she only hoped that her son would accept the news that he had a father easily.
He loved all things Elite One and his favourite team had always been Accardi.
She hoped that shared interest would provide a meeting ground of sorts for father and son.
Only time would tell. No matter what Apollo was prepared to offer, she already knew she would do her best to make it work.
How many nights had she lain awake with her infant son wondering what she could have done differently? How many times had she cried in the past year since Luca had started to speak and had begun to ask questions about his father, questions that she’d had absolutely no idea how to answer?
The guilt over her actions in the lift that night and the decision she’d made to keep things anonymous had torn at her, and now here she was with the very man she’d hoped to find.
Apollo lived his life in the public eye, so they wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret for long.
But there was no need to make a public statement just yet.
Perhaps once things had settled into a rhythm between them all.
She hadn’t even begun to think of what Grayson and Izzy would say, finding out that Luca was an Accardi.
Or what Tristan and Nina would say, especially in the face of losing their star driver and the media storm that would accompany that news breaking.
But she was a professional, and she had never found a situation she couldn’t spin…even if this scandal was her own. Still, she couldn’t quite shake the sensation that she stood on a precipice of sorts between her old life and a new one.
She held her shoulders high as she exited the guest room in search of the origin of that delicious coffee scent, following it to a modern kitchen. Apollo stood at the worktop, cradling an espresso cup in his hands when she entered.
‘Buongiorno.’ His husky greeting was pleasant but she noticed an intensity in his eyes as she moved to accept the identical cup of espresso he’d poured for her.
‘Sit down. We need to talk.’
Astrid paused at his serious tone, the cup midway to her lips. An illicit shiver ran down her spine at his deep command, even as the more pragmatic side of her rebelled. She inhaled a breath, turning to face him fully in the bright morning light.
‘Okay. I know you likely have a lot of questions about what comes next between us…regarding Luca, I mean.’ She took a grateful sip of coffee.
‘And I want you to know that I’m open to making a plan for you both to meet and get to know one another…
and see where we go from there. But, before we can do that, I think we need to get the media situation with your departure from Falco Roux under control. ’
‘Astrid.’ He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.
‘Please, hear me out, okay? I’ve sent out some feelers in the media.
We have the opportunity to hold a small press conference this morning if you’re open to it.
I was in contact with one of the Italian sports stations yesterday and they have submitted a list of questions that I feel would be palatable. ’
‘There can be no interviews.’
‘Apollo, as I’ve told you, there have to be. We need to act fast in order to get ahead of the situation. Before it gets out to our sponsors and the fans and everything snowballs—’
‘It has already been leaked.’
Astrid felt a lead weight in her stomach as she looked down to where his fingers slid a morning newspaper across the marble worktop.
Headlines in Italian filled the page in large black typeface.
Her own grasp of the language was passable, but there was no need to ask for a translation.
Not when a giant photograph of Allegra and Apollo facing off yesterday at the autodrome accompanied it, with a caricature of the brand logos of Accardi and Falco Roux in competition and Elite One as the referee.
‘No.’ Astrid breathed, her eyes scanning the passage beneath. ‘This is an absolute disaster. I need to call my team; we are going to have to set up something global and get in contact with Elite One. They’re likely going to jump at an investigation… Apollo, this is an absolute mess.’
‘That’s not all.’
He turned her attention to the front of the newspaper; she hadn’t realised that the headline she’d been looking at was on the inside cover. The front headline had taken a completely different angle.
Figlio d’amore segreto di Accardi
Her eyes slowly rose to where Apollo stared at her. ‘Please tell me this does not mean what I think it means.’
‘“Accardi’s secret love child”,’ he confirmed solemnly. ‘It’s on almost every front page in Italy and making its way further afield very quickly.’
‘How?’ She shook her head slowly. ‘We only just found out ourselves yesterday. How on earth is this even possible? I haven’t told anyone but you.’
‘Are you asking if I leaked this to the press myself, Astrid?’
She hadn’t planned to…but even as she processed that idea she disregarded it.
No, he knew too well that this would be the last thing either of them needed.
The article had been leaked to a journalist she knew was personally in the pockets of Accardi Autosport, not to mention, the timing and the wording…
She knew how the Accardi team operated like the back of her hand. This had come from them.
She thought of the past twenty-four hours—of the way Allegra Accardi had referenced her baby bump; how she’d mentioned Luca.
Maybe she had noticed Luca’s resemblance to a young Apollo, too.
It was madness to think that anyone else might have known about Luca’s link to Apollo when even she had not known, surely?
‘Your cousins,’ she said simply. ‘Would they have done something like this in order to force you to break the terms of the will?’
‘If they have, they’ll pay.’ Anger radiated from the stern set of his jaw. ‘This is unacceptable. Our son has gone from being completely anonymous to being thrust into the circus of the Accardi family with his name on the front page of every newspaper.’
Our son.
Astrid felt her stomach tighten at those words and how easily he’d said them.
Also, how he had thought of Luca’s safety first. That had to be a good sign, right?
That had to mean that her fears were unfounded.
She may be a well-paid PR representative with plenty of connections in the media, but her name did not hold a fraction of the power that Apollo’s did when it came to keeping their son safe from something like this.
‘I grew up in the media spotlight; it is not something I would wish for him, most certainly not so suddenly. This will escalate into a full-blown media frenzy,’ Apollo said grimly. ‘Would he be awake yet? Is your home secure?’
Astrid paused, horrified awareness finally snaking its way through her shock.
She couldn’t quite seem to think straight, not when she knew better than anyone that the paparazzi in London were even more brazen and disrespectful than they were here.
Not when she couldn’t hold her son in her arms and make sure that he hadn’t been frightened by an errant photographer outside their door.
Her hands scrambled for her phone, fingers shaking uncontrollably as she tried to scroll to her favourites list to call Jem.