22. Alexander
Chapter 22
Alexander
I t has been a very long time—many years—since I’ve felt even close to being this angry. Is that anger directed at Chloe? No, it’s not, but I’m furious with Sophia. Absolutely livid. That woman is the bane of my existence.
The grief she has caused me since I met her is, frankly, unfathomable. She’s trouble with a capital T , and if I could completely cut her out of my life, I would. But doing that would mean losing Giovanni, and that’s a sacrifice I’m not willing to make.
When the truth about his lineage finally came out, my father wanted to wipe Sophia off the face of this earth, and he wouldn’t have hesitated to do that if I hadn’t begged and pleaded for her life.
She deserved everything that was coming her way, but I knew what a life without a mother was like, and I didn’t want the same fate for Giovanni. He’s the innocent one in all of this. He never asked to be born.
I lunge forward and grab hold of Chloe’s arm before she tumbles backwards into the bathtub.
Once she’s stabilised, I squat down in front of her. “Sophia is not my wife,” I tell her, taking a moment to prepare myself to finish my sentence. “And Giovanni is not my son.”
Fuck, even all these years later, that knowledge still stings. “He’s not?” she asks over a gasp.
“No.” I bow my head and continue. “She and I had a one-night stand many years ago.” If you could even call it that.
She actually cornered me in the men’s bathroom at a function I was at, propositioning me. So I did what any red-blooded male would do … I led her into one of the stalls, bent her over the toilet, and hiked up her dress. But Chloe does not need to hear all the gory details.
“I didn’t have any protection on me at the time, and when I told her that, she produced a condom.” That was my first mistake. “I had no idea that moment was going to come back and haunt me months later. She turned up at my club and told me she was pregnant.”
Honestly, at first, I had no recollection of her, so she filled in the gaps, and the unusual circumstances of our union were hard to forget. I’m not typically a man who does that kind of thing.
“When I told her we’d used protection, because that’s something I’d always done … until you,” I admit, “Sophia reminded me that she was the one who provided said protection … with holes poked in it apparently.”
“So she tried to trap you?”
“That’s what I thought at the time, but a huge part of me still doubted the child was mine. That’s when she brought my father into the equation. As his first-born son, I’m destined to inherit his kingdom when he passes, so he’s been riding me for years to produce an heir … someone to carry on the family name.”
“Diabolical,” she says, and I nod my head in agreement.
“He fell for it hook, line, and sinker, and the next thing you know, he was putting pressure on me to marry her. To make an honest woman of her.”
“Wow.”
“Reluctantly, I did as he asked. I didn’t even know the woman or particularly like her, but I moved her into my house—not this one—and we slept in separate rooms. I never laid a finger on her again. I wasn’t interested in having a traditional marriage with that woman, given the circumstances, but I did plan on being there for my child.”
“That’s very honourable of you.”
“I went to all the doctor’s appointments with her and made sure she had the best of everything. By the time she went into labour, I had come to terms with it all. I was actually looking forward to becoming a father.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, reaching out to place her hand on my knee.
“My father was over the moon when the child was born a male. As you may know, it’s common in our culture for Italian males to be named after their grandfathers. I was named Alessandro after mine—even though I go by the English version of Alexander—so naturally, my firstborn was named Giovanni after his paternal grandfather.”
“How did you find out he wasn’t yours?”
“Even though I loved my son from the moment I held him in my arms, there was a nagging doubt inside me that he might not be mine. And as the days and weeks passed, that doubt only grew stronger. So unbeknownst to his mother, I got a DNA test done in secret.”
I exhale slowly as everything I felt the day I learned the truth comes flooding back to the surface.
Chloe’s hand gently skims over my hair, and for some reason, that simple touch tightens something in my chest, and a lump forms at the back of my throat. “I can imagine how much of a shock that must have been for you. ”
“It shattered my fucking heart,” I confess, my voice cracking as I speak.
That has her pulling me into her arms again. A few minutes ago, I could’ve sworn she was ready to kill me, which is exactly why I needed her to hear me out. It feels like we’ve made so much progress in the past few days, only for one visit from Sophia to send us a thousand steps backwards.
Sophia didn’t come here today by accident. She came to stir up trouble. She practically admitted it. Someone must have told her I took a date to Antonio’s daughter’s birthday yesterday, which honestly, isn’t something I normally do. I prefer to keep my personal life private.
My family is constantly in the headlines for various reasons, so I try to stay out of the spotlight. It’s the only way I can maintain some semblance of privacy.
“She’s a despicable person for doing that to you. I take it you got divorced once you found out Giovanni wasn’t yours?”
“I didn’t just divorce her. I gathered all the evidence I could and went to the Catholic Dioceses and had the marriage annulled.”
“I respect the hell out of you for keeping Giovanni in your life, despite everything you now know.”
“You do?” I ask, pulling back to look at her. She’s one of only a few who think that. My father flipped the fuck out when he found out I maintained a relationship with the child.
“It wouldn’t have been easy, especially under those circumstances.”
“What hope did that poor kid have with a mother willing to stoop to that level just to get what she wanted? I loved him … I still do. Even though finding out he wasn’t mi ne crushed me, I couldn’t just shut those feelings off. He needed a positive influence in his life.”
Chloe’s eyes slightly widen, a flicker of accusation in them, which has the corners of my mouth twitching. “I’m far from perfect, bella , but trust me when I say I’m the better parent of the two. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that boy.”
“From the little interaction I had with him, I could tell he was an absolute sweetie pie,” she says, pulling my face back into her chest, offering me more comfort.
Is it wrong that, in this moment, all I can think is that if I suffocated in her cleavage, I’d die a happy man?
The following weekend, when it’s my scheduled day with Giovanni, I sent Nico to pick him up. Sophia is no longer welcome in my home. I’m supposed to have him every second Sunday, and if she wants to keep living the lifestyle she does, that’s how it’s going to stay.
When she left here last week, she was adamant that if I kept Chloe around, I would no longer be able to see my son, so I stuck by my threat and cut her off. If that woman thinks she can control my life, she’s mistaken.
Sophia is a gold digger and has only ever wanted me for my money, so the moment she realised she’d no longer be receiving funding from me, she quickly changed her tune—like I knew she would.
In all the years she’s known me, I’ve never been in a relationship with a woman, though I wouldn’t exactly call what Chloe and I have right now a relationship . But if things keep going the way they are, it’s definitely heading in that direction.
That thought doesn’t scare me in the slightest .
I like this woman more than I’m ready to admit, and I’m pretty sure she feels the same way. At least, I hope she does. There’s a small part of me that wonders if I’m being played, that she’s softening me up, getting me to drop my guard so she can disappear when I least expect it. Deep down, my heart tells me that’s not what’s going on, but I’ve been fooled before.
Chloe spent every night this week in my bed. I haven’t officially moved her in there yet; it’s way too early for that, but I’m comfortable with our current situation, and with where this is heading.
My biggest concern is the secrets I still carry. They have the potential to either make or break us—there’s no in-between—and I can only pray it’s not the latter.
I lean on the doorjamb at the entrance to the kitchen and smile as I watch Carmella and Chloe with my son. He may not carry my blood in those tiny veins of his, but I consider him mine nevertheless.
To me, not being biologically related to a child doesn’t make you any less of a parent. What really matters is the bond you share and the dedication you have for their well-being. It’s not DNA that defines fatherhood; it’s the love and commitment you feel in your heart.
The three of them are laughing and chatting as they pack the basket of food we are taking with us today. I glance down at my watch; the helicopter should be arriving any minute. It’s how Giovanni and I usually get to my cabin whenever we go there.
Since we only get to spend the day together, I don’t want to waste all our time on the road. I want to do all the fun things with him and make memories.
“Chloe,” Giovanni suddenly says.
“Yes, sweetie pie,” she replies, looking down at him and smiling .
“Do you know how to bait your own hook?”
“Umm, no,” she answers, scrunching up that cute nose of hers.
“I do,” he says, standing a little taller. “My dad taught me. He’s teaching me all the cool stuff so I know what to do when I’m old like him.”
Old like him? I’m only thirty-four years old. He makes it sound like I’m ancient.
“Wow, that’s awesome.”
“I can teach you if you like.”
“Umm, okay.”
“You’re coming with us today, right?” he asks.
“Your dad invited me, but I wanted to make sure it was okay with you first. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your special time with him.”
“I want you to come. I like you; you’re nice.”
“You’re nice too,” she replies, her smile growing.
She reaches out and gently runs her hand over his dark hair, just like she did with me last week when I opened up to her about my situation with Sophia. She may not realise it, but there’s something undeniably maternal about her. You only have to see the way she cared for her father after her mother left to understand that.
Sophia lacks that quality. I have no doubt she loves her son, but even when he was a baby, she showed no interest in breastfeeding. She insisted I hire a wet nurse, which I found incredibly cold.
We also had a full-time nanny who stayed on after I left. It was crucial to me that Giovanni was well cared for, even though he wasn’t technically mine. I was a more hands-on parent when he was born, despite being at work during the day.
“Have you ever been fishing?” he asks her.
“No, I haven’t. ”
“Dad and I always bring our catch back, and Carmella cooks it up for dinner.”
I clear my throat as I push off the wall. “Are you guys almost ready? The helicopter is due to arrive any minute.”
“Helicopter!” Chloe squeaks as her head snaps in my direction.
Did I neglect to tell her that part?
“Don’t worry,” Giovanni replies. “I’ll hold your hand if you’re scared.”
I settle back into my seat and slide the headphones over my ears. Giovanni has already given Chloe the rundown on why we need to wear them, and once they both put them on and strap themselves in, his little hand reached for hers.
He’s currently looking up at her in awe. I think my son has a crush on my girl, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I’m a tad amused and a little proud, but I’m pretty sure there’s some jealousy mixed in there as well. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make my boy happy, but I draw the line here. Chloe Carmichael is mine … she belongs to me, and he needs to accept that.
The chopper landed on the purpose-built helipad at the rear of my property. I use it frequently, not just for flying between my cabin and here, but also to visit my family in Griffith. The road trip home takes six hours, but by air, it’s only two.
Our flight to the Hunter Valley is around forty-five minutes, so we land in no time. Giovanni talked to Chloe through the headphones the entire way. I was feeling a little left out, to be honest. It’s usually me who gets his undivided attention.
“I think I got one,” Chloe squeals, jumping to her feet.
“Way to go, Chlo.” Chlo? A few hours with her, and he’s already converted to nicknames. “Hold this, Dad,” he adds, handing me his rod and moving to her side. “Jerk the line back to set the hook, like I taught you.” She does as he instructs, and when he follows that up with, “Good girl,” I bark out a laugh.
It’s comical that a five-year-old is calling a grown woman a “Good girl” . He’s basically parroting everything I said to him the first time he caught a fish, except the girl part, obviously.
I love that he’s retaining all the information I’m teaching him. His nanny, Mimi, does a good job with him, but his mother is useless. All she cares about is herself.
He continues to coach Chloe as she reels it in, and once the fish breaks the surface, he runs for the net. I just sit back and watch the two of them together.
Giovanni moves to the edge, ready to scoop it up. “Be careful,” Chloe says. “Don’t fall in.”
“I can swim,” he replies. “Dad taught me.”
“Still …”
“Relax, Chlo. I’ve done this heaps of times; I’m a pro.”
I find myself chuckling again. He’s like an old man trapped in a little boy’s body. I suppose only having adults around will do that to you.
I’m looking forward to him making friends his own age next year when he starts school.
When Giovanni leans over the edge of the deck, Chloe’s eyes dart to me. “Should you help him?”
I lift one shoulder. “He knows what he’s doing.”
She rolls her eyes, and when he lunges forward, she takes one hand off the rod and fists it in the back of his T- shirt. There’s that maternal instinct I was talking about. My son could benefit greatly by having someone like her in his life.
“Got it,” Giovanni states. “And it’s a beauty too. What do you reckon, Dad?” he asks, turning the net in my direction.
“Good size bream,” I answer with a nod. I lean forward in my seat and slide mine and Giovanni’s fishing rods into the rod holders I installed along the edge of the deck. “Do you need help with the hook?”
“Nah, I’ve got it, Dad.” I don’t particularly like him dealing with the hook while the fish is thrashing around, but he’ll never learn if I keep doing it for him. “He’s a slippery little sucker,” he says, glancing up at Chloe.
This time she laughs. “I can see that.”
When he finally gets the hook out, he lifts the fish and holds it towards her. “You have to kiss it,” he tells her.
She rears back. “I’m not kissing that thing.”
“It’s tradition,” he says. “Isn’t it, Dad?”
I fold my arms across my chest and wink at her when she gives me pleading eyes. “It sure is,” I state.
“Ugh,” she mumbles under her breath as she clenches her eyes closed and puckers those sweet lips of hers.
“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” Giovanni whines as I pack up the rest of his things.
“I wish that too, buddy.”
“Can you, me, and Chloe go back to the cabin next weekend?”
“I don’t have you next weekend, but we can go the following week. ”
He pouts his bottom lip, so I ruffle his hair. This happens every Sunday night.
We got back to the house a few hours ago, and while Carmella prepared our catch, we all headed upstairs to shower and change before dinner. Separately, of course. I got Giovanni sorted first while Chloe went to her room.
“Why can’t I live here with you, Dad?” he asks. It’s not something he’s ever mentioned before.
“Because you live with your mum.”
“But she’s no fun. She’s always going out with her friends and leaving me at home with Mimi.”
I blow out a long breath. “You like spending time with Mimi, though, right?”
“Yeah, but I’d rather be spending time with you and Chlo. Mummy makes Mimi teach me arithitic and algebra, instead of playing and having fun.”
“You mean arithmetic?”
“Yeah, that. It sucks donkey’s balls.”
My eyebrows jump so high they almost reach my hairline. “It sucks donkey’s balls?” I ask. “Where did you hear that?”
“Chloe.”
“Chloe?”
“Yeah. I heard her mumble it today when she was trying to untangle her fishing line.”
I roll my lips to hide my amusement. “Did she now?” I’ll be punishing her for that once we’re alone.
“Mummy said she wants me to be the smartest kid in the world, but I just want to be a regular boy.”
Poor fucking kid.
I squat down to his level and wrap him in my arms. “How about I ask your mum if you can come next weekend? Maybe spend the night here with us. ”
He draws his face back, and it instantly lights up. “Could we stay at the cabin?”
“I’ll ask your mum and see what she says.”
It’s a long shot, but I’ll give it my best try.
She’d never voluntarily agree to let me spend more time with him, but a nice cash advantage should do the trick. I’m not above bribing her for extra time with my son. It’s how I originally got him every second Sunday.
Sophia doesn’t do anything out of the kindness of her heart. She only keeps us apart to punish me for leaving.
She’s a selfish bitch like that.