Chapter 16
The wrought-iron gates of the Re estate situated on the edge of Milan swung open, revealing a sun-drenched villa. Emily adjusted her sunglasses as Nicolas reached for her suitcase. He didn’t allow the staff to help, carrying it inside himself.
Alessandra Re walked up to them, looking beautiful in a floral dress and gold jewelry adorning every part of her.
She swept Nicolas into a hug. “Ben tornato a casa, figlio mio,” his mother said, kissing both his cheeks.
Then she turned to Emily, her smile polite. “Welcome. You’ve done a great service to this family.”
Her eyes flitted to Nicolas for a second. His parents knew about the fake marriage, but did he not tell them she was gaining something from this as well? With the way Alessandra looked at her, you’d think Emily had done them a huge favor, expecting nothing in return.
“Um…it was no big deal.”
His mother’s gaze lingered. “I know this arrangement wasn’t born of love. But you two are now bound by law. I expect you’ll both honor that.”
Why did that sound like a bit of a threat?
Anna, Nicolas’s younger sister, bounded down the stairs. Her hair was dark like his, just with more curls.
“Emily!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “I’ve been dying to meet you.”
She gave Emily a hug, surprising her by the display of affection to someone the girl hadn’t met before. Then she stepped back to take her in, head tilting with a mischievous smile. “Wow. You look even better in person.”
Anna glanced at Nicolas, her smile knowing.
He shifted slightly, clearing his throat, but said nothing.
His sister turned back to her, her tone friendly. “Come on, let me show you the garden. It’s where Nicolas used to hide when he didn’t want anyone to see him brooding.”
Emily wheezed.
Nicolas shot his sister a look. “Emily just got off an eight-hour flight. She needs a moment to rest and she still hasn’t unpacked,” Nicolas replied.
“She’ll be seated in the garden. As for the unpacking, you can handle that. Isn’t that what husbands are for?”
His look darkened into a glare, but he didn’t deny it.
Emily stifled a giggle. She appreciated Anna’s warmth. The expectation was that his family was cold, distant. At least she’d proven her wrong and that calmed her nerves.
However, that feeling was short-lived.
A slow tap echoed from the hallway.
The sight of an older man with a cane came into view.
Nicolas’s father, Riccardo Re, entered the space with a gaze that made her uneasy. There was nothing in those eyes. Just a void so deep it made her forget how to breathe.
Emily’s mind flickered with memories: a hotel theatre, a closet, and a boy wiping away tears.
She couldn’t help the slight grudge she held against him.
“So this is the actress you’ve married,” Riccardo said, his voice causing Anna to stiffen.
Emily noted how Alessandra placed a hand on her shoulder. Anna leaned into her touch.
“Her name is Emily Pinault,” Nicolas spoke. Her eyes found him. He sounded so detached. Like he was mirroring the man before him. “I’m certain John told you as much.”
“Yes, he did, seeing as David refused to. Seems he’s forgotten who he should be answering to.” His hand tightened over the cane at the end.
“My personal assistant is called mine for a reason,” Nicolas said. “He doesn’t owe you any insights into my life. You agreed with the board about an impromptu marriage, so you shouldn’t care much about who it’s with.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he snapped. “What board, much less me, would not be concerned about who their CEO has married?” Nicolas became rigid.
“Your little excuse of her contractual agreements as an actress has as much footing as running in sand.
Speaking of which, on Monday a statement will be released regarding your marriage.
Everyone needs more assurance. And the fact that I have to give it to them makes me greatly disappointed in you.
“They’ve been waiting on the public’s attention to this matter and you’ve been sitting on this news, Nicolas. Just sitting. This could’ve driven up our stocks months ago. Exactly what are you prioritizing here?”
Nicolas’s face reflected his anger before he buried it. “She can’t reveal she’s married to me.”
“Well, she is,” Riccardo stressed. “And why the hell can’t she? Are you not husband material? You know what, keep the pity party to yourselves. It wasn’t like she was forced into this.” His hard gaze found Emily. “Were you?”
She shook her head. “No, but…”
“No buts,” he said with a clipped tone. His eyes swallowed Nicolas when they returned to him. “A statement goes out on Monday. The whole damn world will know you’re tied down and are a man of responsibility.”
Emily’s eyes caught Nicolas’s fist curling by his side. She thought he’d push back, not say what he did next.
“Okay, you can release your statement.”
What the hell?
He knew she still had Jake to deal with. She’d shared enough about her revenge plan without having to spell everything out loud.
Emily squirmed next to him, trying not to react, but she clearly already had.
He continued. “You can release your statement, but her identity stays anonymous.”
“Dio mio, basta!”
Everyone flinched except for Nicolas.
Instead, he replied to his father’s outburst, “No, ha qualcosa di importante da fare. Non può rivelarsi adesso. O così, oppure quei vecchi restano scontenti di me.”
Both men’s eyes stay leveled on each other.
“Plus we already agreed to have the announcement with her identity revealed early next year. It will be done, Father. Just not now.”
Riccardo continued staring. “Nicolas…are you telling me her business is more important than yours?”
“We both know you won’t like the answer to that question, so why ask it?”
His expression stayed stoic as he searched Nicolas’s face for something. Then slowly, he gave a stiff nod. “Fine, but the next time something like this happens I will not be listening to a word you say.”
“It won’t.”
“Let me start preparing dinner,” Alessandra interjected. “Anna, take Emily outside for some fresh air. The lilacs have shown some off-season blooming. I’m sure she’ll like them.”
Her daughter promptly escorted Emily from the tense showdown between the Re men. Before she could make it out the door, Riccardo’s voice stopped her. “Your cousin, Jason.”
She turned to face him.
There was a gleam in his gaze, enough to send a shiver through her.
“The one who tanked his clothing company and has been dragging your family’s name through the mud,” he continued. “Rumor has it he borrowed money from the wrong people. If he doesn’t pay up in the next few months, there’ll be a bounty on his head.”
All the muscles in her body contracted.
As much as Emily hated Jason, he was still family. She remembered how he’d begged their grandfather for money again recently. But this time, the old man had told him he’d have to figure things out on his own.
Was this what he’d come up with? Borrowing black market cash?
Nicolas stepped to shield her, his lips parting, but she beat him to it.
“And why is that any of my concern?”
A beat of silence.
Riccardo gave a low, gruff laugh. “Just thought I’d give you a heads-up. We’re now family, after all. All of us.”
The way he said it was like a verdict.
It made her feel somewhat sick.
Yes, this marriage was a contract, but she was legally tied to him because of his son. His son who resembled him in every way and yet, somehow, didn’t.
Her voice was unwavering. “Jason’s made his mistakes, and I’m sure he’ll learn from them. I appreciate your concern, but trust me, it’s misplaced.”
His cane tapped the floor like a metronome. “You’re good at pretending, aren’t you?” he mused. “I suppose that’s why you became an actress. Does it serve you just as well outside of work?”
“Enough.”
Nicolas’s arm went around and rested on Emily’s hip. Those brown eyes were gentle as he took her hand in his. She gulped, looking down at where they were now joined, trying to mask her surprise.
Looking back at his father, his lips curled into a sneer. “You can insult me all you want. I can take it. But not her. Never her.”
Riccardo’s expression faltered.
Nicolas brought Emily snug against him to prove his point. His touch was possessive and his tone dark. “She’s my wife, regardless of how it came to be. If you can’t respect that, then we really do have a problem on our hands.”
Riccardo said nothing. He simply looked between the two of them joined together. It took him a moment to absorb the image before he turned and walked away, his cane tapping a little faster.
Dinner had been a performance to say the least. Nicolas’s father presided at the head of the table, every word curt, each glance heavy.
His mother, compliant, nodded along, her smile wavering between genuine and practiced.
Anna’s chatter was lighthearted and constant, and if she noticed the tension, Emily couldn’t tell.
Nicolas had eaten in silence, stealing glances at her from time to time. He’d told her earlier that the statement about their marriage wouldn’t include her name which brought a sense of relief. That would have surely put an end to her revenge plan.
Or maybe it would have achieved it even quicker—in an instant, really. And that would have been so…disappointing, considering all the effort she’d put into it.
Now, Anna was tugging Emily upstairs, rescuing her from the small talk.
“Come on,” she said. “I want to show you my room.”
She’d grown attached to Emily in just a couple of hours. Leaning across the table with eyes alight, Anna peppered her with questions about her favorite actors, artists and performers. Each answer from Emily drew a broader smile, the kind when one found a kindred spirit.
When the door to Anna’s room swung open, Emily’s breath caught. It was more of an art studio than a bedroom. Canvases were stacked against the walls, jars of paint across the floor and a notepad with sketches was on a desk. The bed was shoved into a corner, an afterthought.
“Are you an artist, Anna?” Emily asked softly.
Nicolas had told her as much, but she wanted to hear it herself.
“Yeah, I just started undergrad at PoliMi. I’m studying Design.”
Emily was well-acquainted with The Polytechnic University of Milan because of an actor who studied there. It was competitive. She was impressed that Anna had a spot there.
“Looks like you really enjoy it.”
Anna laughed. “Couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else.”
She looked at Emily, suddenly serious. “I know that what I’m doing isn’t as respected as what Nicolas or our father does, but it’s what I want to do. Art has its own merit, you know?”
Indeed it does.
“I think you understand that more than anyone else in this house. You went to Juilliard. You’ve won an Oscar. You’re the embodiment of the arts.”
“I’m sure Nicolas understands as well.”
She wasn’t quite sure why she’d tossed that out there. Maybe it was because his sister probably had no clue of what he’d done for her.
Anna’s brows furrowed.
“Yeah, maybe he does,” she admitted. “He loves the arts as much as I do. Secretly, of course. He could never express his love for it without being condemned by our father. I think the only thing he got away with was watching your shows.”
Emily’s heart skipped a beat. “What? He watched my works?”
Anna grinned devilishly. “He’s done more than that,” she said, hopping off the stool she’d sat on earlier. “Let me show you.”
Grabbing her by the arm, the girl led her to a room across the hall.
She pushed a door open. Emily’s eyes instantly took in the space. She knew whose bedroom it was without asking.
It was Nicolas’s.
She was standing in his childhood bedroom. It smelled faintly of cedar. The walls were painted a soft gray, shelves lined with books.
Her eyes flittered to the right and froze.
“Is that…me?”
On the wall, slightly faded was a poster of her from a series she’d starred in years ago. She was mid-laugh in the photo, hair tousled, eyes bright.
Anna chuckled. “Yes! He’s been obsessed with you since forever. Our mother thought it was a little crush, but to hear that he’d married you, she’s convinced this was his grand plan all along.”
Emily was speechless. Goosebumps flooded her skin. She wanted to say that couldn’t have been the case since she was the one that proposed to him.
As she was about to speak, the door to the bedroom widened. Nicolas entered, eyes bouncing from Anna, to her, then to the poster on his wall. The horror on his face was fleeting, before he turned to his sister.
“Ti ammazzerò,” he said. “Piano.”
Anna screamed at the words before dashing out the room.
Emily looked to see him rubbing the back of his neck.
His brown eyes danced across her face. “I can explain.”