Chapter Two
AMELIA LAUGHED. She couldn’t help it. Though it was nothing like her normal laugh—she’d forgotten what that even sounded like. This was a noise of derision and derangement, a sound that was torn from her against her will.
But seconds passed and the sound died in her throat.
She stared at him, her brain sluggish and slow to cooperate. ‘Did you—are you actually serious?’
A muscle throbbed at the base of his jaw, but he simply stared at her, as though that were an answer.
‘Why on earth do you think I’d marry you? We literally just met.’
His eyes bored into hers. ‘This would not be a normal marriage.’
‘Obviously,’ she said, rolling her eyes a little. And even though she had no intention of marrying him, her mind began to spin with the idea, picturing herself in this man’s orbit, belonging to his world.
It was absurd.
They were chalk and cheese. She was a waitress at a cheap east London diner.
He was Massimiliano Moretti. She didn’t know how much he was worth, only that he lived in a world of expensive cars and never-ending luxury.
She couldn’t even cover the interest payments on her credit card. ‘And there’ll be no marriage.’
He moved infinitesimally closer, so his large frame loomed over hers. ‘Even if I could click my fingers and make all of your money problems disappear? If I could do the same for your grandparents?’
Her heart twisted. ‘I don’t even know them.’
‘But you don’t want to see them destroyed.’
‘Do you?’
‘I gave up on feeling loyalty to anyone a long time ago, besides my own grandfather.’
‘You said they’re friends. Surely he would want you to do something on their behalf.’
His lips shifted in a sneer. ‘He would not ask it of me.’
‘But—’
‘No, Amelia. The only reason I would have for helping your grandparents from financial ruin is if they were family. With you as my wife, I would not feel I had a choice but to intervene.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘Are you seriously trying to blackmail me into marriage?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I prefer incentivise.’
‘Tomay-to, tomah-to,’ she muttered.
‘There is your own considerable debt to consider, as well. Not to mention your living circumstances.’
She pulled herself up to her full height. She was not short, and yet he still towered inches over her. ‘What’s wrong with my living circumstances?’
He ignored the question. ‘Is this truly what you want from life, Amelia?’ he asked, the words breathing over her, pulling at old wounds, reminding her of the hopes and dreams she’d cherished before her father had become ill and her entire focus had shifted to him.
‘Not everyone has the luxury of living their dreams,’ she said, the thought one she’d had often.
Whenever she caught her mind wandering into ‘this isn’t fair’ territory, and needed to have a stern talking to herself.
Because life wasn’t fair and bemoaning the fact achieved nothing.
Far better, in Amelia’s opinion, to duck your head and get on with it.
‘But you could,’ he said. ‘Marry me, and you can do and be whatever you want.’
Her jaw dropped as her heart began to race, and, for the first time in she couldn’t say how long, something inside her began to lift, giving her a strange kind of hope. Dreams she’d given up on suddenly flared to life once more, tempting her. Tantalising.
But at what cost?
Marriage to a stranger? All so he could trade on a name she’d long ago disavowed. A name she associated with betrayal and hurt, with a side of herself she wished didn’t exist. And what would this marriage even look like?
‘You could come home, to your grandparents.’
‘Italy is not my home.’
‘Fine. You could move there for a while, temporarily, and get to know them.’
Her heart turned over and she spun away from him, desperately needing to put physical space between them.
‘I don’t want to know them,’ she said, aware that it was so much more complicated than that.
Wanting to know them went hand in hand with not being able to understand why they hadn’t ever contacted her.
The thought of seeing them brought with it a certainty she would need to take care of herself, for surely they were as cold-hearted as her own mother.
‘Are you sure?’
She closed her eyes on a wave of frustration, hating that somehow he was able to see beneath her words, to the truth of her heart.
‘I can’t marry you,’ she said, turning around. ‘It goes against everything I believe in.’
‘Which is?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What is it you believe a marriage should be that makes it so hard to imagine agreeing to my proposal?’
‘It’s supposed to be a relationship of love, and trust. A couple who want to spend the rest of their lives together.’
His nostrils flared as he expelled a sharp breath. ‘That is not what our marriage would be.’
‘Obviously.’
‘Yet it would still be beneficial, to both of us. Better than the alternative.’
‘Are you saying I’m the only person you could possibly marry to fix your family’s reputation?’
He stared at her across the diner, features unreadable, eyes dark. ‘Your financial situation—and that of your grandparents—makes it more likely you will be reasonable when it comes to negotiating the details of this marriage.’
‘You mean, you think you’ll have me over a barrel financially, so I’ll be more compliant than some fancy society woman with money?’
His eyes glittered, showing the truth of that, and he nodded to confirm it.
‘I’m twenty-three,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I have my whole life before me.’
‘Exactly.’ He swept across the diner, minimising the space she’d put between them. ‘You have had every disadvantage, Amelia. Life has not been kind to you. So marry me. Become wealthy, and then do whatever the hell you want, without the financial impediments you currently face.’
Her heart twisted. He made it sound so easy. So good. But in her experience, there was always a catch.
‘Okay, I’ll humour you,’ she said. She wasn’t stupid.
While her first instinct was to shut him down, there was no harm in at least hearing him out fully.
Her father would encourage her to do that.
To get all the details, take some time, then make a decision.
She almost heard his voice in her mind, so strong was her certainty that his advice would be thus.
‘Tell me exactly how you would imagine this working.’ She lifted a hand then.
‘I’m not saying yes. I’m just…getting all the facts. ’
He nodded, but she could see from the way his body relaxed slightly that he was taking her agreement as a foregone conclusion.
‘We would marry quickly. I want my grandfather to have time to enjoy the rewards of this. I can procure a special licence, meaning we’d have the ceremony within a week.’
Her jaw dropped, but she didn’t interrupt.
‘There would be a financial settlement for you on the day of our wedding—enough to pay off your debt, and make you more comfortable than you can fathom. You would be able to breathe easily for the first time in a long time.’ She closed her eyes against the relief of that thought.
‘In three months, I would start to clear your grandparents’ mortgages. ’
‘Why three months?’ Then, as the penny dropped, ‘As an insurance policy against me leaving.’
‘Yes.’
‘So…this is blackmail.’
At least he didn’t correct her to ‘incentivising’ again.
‘How long would you see this “marriage” lasting?’
‘As long as my grandfather lives,’ he murmured.
‘Well, hang on,’ she demurred. ‘That might be a very long time. You don’t know yet. And for your sake, of course, I hope that’s the case. I just mean…’
‘You don’t want to be indefinitely tied to me.’
She nodded once.
‘Then let us put a time frame on it. Two years?’
She stared at him, her heart racing. In two years, she’d be twenty-five. ‘And then what?’
‘We divorce quietly. You would receive, at that point, a large settlement.’
‘How large?’
‘Large enough that you would never need to work a day in your life. You will never need to worry about paying rent, or buying a single thing.’
She couldn’t even imagine what that would be like.
Finances had been a struggle for her all her life.
Her parents had been broke, and it had got worse after her mother had left.
Only, Amelia’s goal wasn’t to not work. It was to work in the field she was most passionate about.
To go to university, study medicine, become a doctor.
And with money behind her, she could do that without having to worry about juggling a job at the same time.
She could also, depending on how much money he was talking about, help people, like her father, get access to the medications they couldn’t currently access.
Her eyes lifted to his, trying to see beneath the impenetrable mask of determination.
What was this man actually like? Just who was she considering making a deal with?
‘And our actual marriage?’ she asked, looking at him with a face that felt as if it were on fire. ‘Would you expect…?’ Her voice trailed off and she glanced down at the table.
‘No, Amelia. This is not a sexual proposition. Cristo. You are far too young for me.’
She glanced up at him sharply. ‘Am I?’
‘There are twelve years between us,’ he pointed out. ‘I can barely remember what it was like, being twenty-three.’
She bit into her lip to cover the disappointment that washed over her.
‘But we would need to live together. In order for this to work, my grandfather must believe we are genuinely marrying for love. Knowing your grandparents as I do, this would also be the best way to spare them any further pain.’
She blinked across at him.
‘They are proud people, Amelia. I expect they will only accept my help if they know it comes from the actions of a man in love.’
‘Oh. So we would have to pretend…’
‘Yes. Around our families, we would pretend.’
‘But behind closed doors?’
‘We would live our own lives.’
‘In the same house.’
‘My apartment is large enough for you to have plenty of privacy.’