Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
It was dark outside, New York lit up like shining jewels on black velvet. The streets snaking along in golds and silvers. Inside, the light over Rachel’s desk had long been switched off; what little leaked from Emilio’s office cast dim shadows.
He was the only one still working on the floor. Not working. No. More like rueing.
Emilio sat with the paternity test result. There was no doubt. He was the baby’s father.
‘Cazzo,’ he swore under his breath.
‘One day your impetuousness is going to cost you, and it’s going to cost this family.’
Enzo’s words haunted him. He wondered if his brother would celebrate being right.
They were all that was left of the De Luca line and they could barely tolerate each other.
The legacy had already been in jeopardy for many years: Enzo would never attempt to marry again because of the mark Emilio had left on him by sleeping with his fiancée.
By Emilio’s betrayal. That much was obvious.
Emilio himself had no intention of subjecting himself to a path that could only end in rejection and regret.
But now there was an heir—his child, not Enzo’s.
His child.
The word terrified and—to his great surprise—excited him in equal measure. That was ridiculous. He didn’t want children or family.
Didn’t want, or resigned yourself to not having?
Emilio pushed away from his desk and went to stand at the window, unwilling to go down that path. Excited or not, a child born of a one-night stand with a woman he’d picked up at a club would be a scandal he couldn’t afford. A scandal that was entirely his fault. For being impulsive, yet again.
Impulsive, yes, but he was not, had never been, irresponsible. He wouldn’t be the CEO of one of the most respected financial companies in America if he were.
Emilio had taken responsibility for his actions in the past. He had worked so hard to control that impulsivity in him.
He’d made drastic changes to his life because he could never allow himself to forget the damage he could do if he let that side of him out.
Enzo’s hatred of him would always stand as the proof of that damage.
Emilio had used it, used his mistake with Gia, as motivation to act responsibly for the company—to ensure he always took the best decisions for his employees, the legacy and the family.
He would do the same now. He turned around, picked up the manilla folder on the corner of his desk and opened it to view a fact file on Jasmine. As soon as she had left the building, he had called one of his fixers, asking for everything they could find on her. They hadn’t disappointed.
Pacing his office, Emilio read through it: excellent schooling; an impressive scholarship; ownership of a thriving start-up.
Its year-on-year growth surprised even Emilio.
She was intelligent—but that had been evident from the moment he’d met her, even if they hadn’t been much interested in each other’s intellects at the time.
He skimmed the section on her personal life.
She had been raised by a single mother, no father in the picture and…
The next line gave him pause.
There had been an engagement announcement, but the marriage hadn’t happened yet. When he saw the date set for the wedding, he cursed yet again. Well, that would explain why she had been drinking alone that night at the club.
He had seen enough. He tossed the file on his desk, picked up the results and left his office. He knew exactly what he needed to do and how to propose it.
***
‘Wait here,’ Emilio instructed his driver as he exited his Maybach.
It had been a short drive from the financial district to downtown Manhattan.
Now he stood outside an older, somewhat industrial building that had seen some careful modern restoration.
He went inside, taking the lift up to a loft-style work space with whitewashed walls that exposed the brickwork.
Open work stations stood in careful, practical clumps, with only a few enclosed spaces dotted around the floor—and, even then, the walls were made of glass, with black metal frames.
On one wall in large black letters were the words ‘Style on Point’.
Jasmine, as she had been this morning, fit in here perfectly. The woman from the club? He couldn’t see her at all.
Emilio walked through the darkened work space—here too, everyone had clearly already left for the day—towards the only office still brightly lit. Within it sat Jasmine, frowning at her screen.
It would take all his charm and power for his plan to work, because this woman was not afraid to challenge him. But Emilio was okay with that. So far nothing in his life worth having had come without a fight. He wouldn’t be swayed.
He knocked on the open door, obviously startling her. Perhaps she’d thought he wouldn’t come. He watched as the surprise faded and she quickly put up her guard.
‘Can we talk?’ he asked.
‘If you’re going to act like a civilised human, then yes.’
It took a great deal of restraint not to smile at her tone.
Damn this woman! The pull she had on him was frustrating.
And he couldn’t help but admire how completely immune she was to his name.
When she had arrived at his officer earlier, there’d been no hint of intimidation.
It took a brave soul to barge into a De Luca’s office like that.
When he looked at her now, he could see all that strength.
He took the available seat at her table, arranging his thoughts before he began. ‘I apologise for my behaviour earlier,’ he said. It would be best to get her attitude towards him to soften before they talked further. ‘The news came as a shock.’
‘Yes, because I was fully prepared for it,’ Jasmine sniped.
‘That’s fair.’ Emilio placed the test result on her table. ‘But we need to get past this unpleasantness. We are going to have a child and I plan on being part of their life.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she said. ‘And I agree, maybe we should start over— honestly , this time.’
There it was again, a cryptic hint about trust and honesty that unsettled Emilio. He had broken trust before. Destroyed it absolutely, in fact. But he wasn’t going to think about Enzo and Gia when he was here to do the right thing for his child and his family.
‘I’d like that.’ He extended his hand. ‘I’m Emilio De Luca.’
‘Jasmine Hall,’ she said, shaking it. It was as if her touch burned. Scalded him to his marrow. He wanted to let go and keep holding on at the same time. Judging from the way she looked at him, she felt it too—and quickly let go, not giving him the choice.
Emilio shut down the disappointment; he still had to achieve what he came here to do.
‘About the baby…’ he said. ‘You’re carrying a De Luca heir.’
‘What does that mean?’ He could hear the apprehension in her tone.
‘It means they will have the De Luca name,’ Emilio said plainly.
Jasmine was an impressive woman, a self-made entrepreneur, but her heritage didn’t bring with it any power.
His did. His child would inherit centuries’ worth of history and prestige.
His name would open doors that Jasmine couldn’t imagine in her wildest dreams. Most importantly, this child was his . They would be denied nothing.
Including the vineyards.
The realisation hit him like a physical blow. The vineyards meant twice as much now: not only had his mother loved them, but one day his child would inherit them. Emilio was willing to fight for both those causes. For everything his child deserved.
‘I have no reason to trust you,’ Jasmine said. ‘If you stick around, we can hyphenate.’
‘Not happening.’ He wasn’t about to relinquish the De Luca name to Enzo by hyphenating. His child would be the next De Luca heir. ‘They will have my name; it’s not negotiable. But that’s not all—you will have my name too. We will be getting married.’
‘What?’ Jasmine was on her feet in an instant.
‘You heard me.’
‘No, no, I’m certain I heard wrong.’ Emilio could see her using that tone in a boardroom. He was certain anyone else would have been back-tracking right about now, but he wasn’t just anyone.
‘I said, we will be getting married.’ He could tell his calm tone was further inciting her anger.
‘You’re out of your mind, Emilio! I’m not marrying you!
’ She looked around the office, searching for who knew what; when she looked back at him, her hazel eyes were vivid with repressed rage.
‘It’s the twenty-first century, Emilio. We don’t have to get married just because I fell pregnant.
We can co-parent. Come to a satisfying custody agreement.
There is a myriad of options that don’t include marriage! ’
Absolutely not! Emilio wasn’t going to miss out on any part of his child’s life the way his father had removed himself from his.
Shared custody would mean he would have to go days, maybe weeks, without seeing or living with his child.
No way was that happening. He wanted every moment.
His child would not wonder where he was, would not question why they weren’t enough for his attention. They wouldn’t grow up with that pain.
‘Together, we can give our child a better future, Jasmine. A better life. Surely you want that for them?’ She had grown up poor; that had been clear from the fact-file.
‘If we share custody, they would be bounced from house to house, having to unpack a suitcase just to turn around and pack one again the next week. They will have more stability if we marry.’
Jasmine planted her hands on her desk and leaned towards him, a vein throbbing in her temple. ‘You mean you can avoid a scandal if we marry.’
Emilio didn’t want to lie to her, so he said nothing.
‘I know how it works with old money, Emilio,’ she said through clenched teeth.
‘Surely you would agree that growing up in a two-parent household is better than the alternative?’