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‘He blackmailed me,’ she whispered, fidgeting with her fingers. ‘He had a copy of the DNA results. He said that if I didn’t give him two million euros, he’d sell the story to the highest-bidding newspaper.’
Benedetto swore in Italian, crossing the room to stand right in front of Amelia.
‘And so?’
‘And so,’ she repeated, aghast, ‘everything would have been ruined. I’d discovered this awful secret of my mother’s, and mine, something that could ruin her life, her marriage, could change everything for my family, and then I’d told someone who saw me as a paycheque. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘Of course it is,’ she contradicted. ‘I should have known better.’
‘You were in a state of shock.’
‘Yes,’ she muttered. At least that much was true. ‘But that’s no excuse.’
‘What happened with Daniel?’
‘I paid him. He said it would be enough, “for now”.’
Benedetto swore beneath his breath.
‘I felt like I would never be free of him, Ben.’ She groaned. ‘And so I disappeared. I thought with me gone, the risk would go too. And it has. But if I go back...’
Benedetto felt as though he’d been punched in the solar plexus. He stared at her long and hard, as the pieces slotted into place and he understood, finally, why she’d run away, how selfless and courageous she’d been in taking herself out of the palace, away from her parents, to protect her mother, to disappear rather than risk any of this coming out. And how terrified she must have been, how heartbroken, after her bastard ex-boyfriend’s advantageous betrayal.
Something uneasy shifted inside Benedetto.
A sense that Amelia was vulnerable, that she’d been badly hurt. That despite what she’d said, if Benedetto wasn’t very careful, this could come to mean more to her than he wanted. Because no matter how much he desired her, Benedetto had no intention of staying in Amelia’s life. Or any woman’s. He would never risk that kind of attachment, permanence, connection. Not after what he’d been through.
Every cell in his body was committed to a lifetime spent on his own, relying on no one, depending on no one, loving no one. Never again. He had to make sure Amelia didn’t mistake his sympathy for anything else, especially not now he understood what she’d been through.
He wouldn’t become another man who let her down.
‘My whole life is a lie,’ she mumbled, wrapping her arms around her chest. ‘How could I keep going to family events, dinners, birthdays, Christmas, festivals, all the things we do together, knowing what I know, and what I’d done? And my father, the man who raised me and taught me to ride a bike and bake and laugh at corny old movies, how could I look him in the eye again?’
‘He’s still your father,’ Benedetto said, keeping a careful distance between them.
‘I don’t belong with them. I don’t belong anywhere.’
‘Listen.’ He spoke sternly, needing to cut through her sadness. ‘What you learned, and how you learned it, was devastating. There’s no excusing nor ignoring that. But it doesn’t change the fact that your family loves you. None of this is your fault. Don’t you think you should at least discuss the matter with your mother?’
Amelia gasped. ‘I could never!’
‘Why not?’
‘She’d be devastated to know I know. And furious with me for turning to Daniel, of all people.’
‘He was your boyfriend,’ Ben said rationally. ‘Trusting him makes sense.’
‘Not for us. We were raised to be more careful than that. I should never have told another soul.’
‘This is not your burden to carry,’ he said emphatically. ‘Your mother had an affair. That happens. It was a mistake. Decades later, she and your father are still together, happy. They’ve raised a family, are on the brink of watching their oldest son marry, presumably soon to welcome grandchildren into the mix. Life is long, if we’re lucky, and not always as we expect it. Your father would understand. Your mother would certainly not want something she did two decades ago to keep you away a day longer.’
Amelia dropped her head to his chest and sobbed properly now, her grief shifting to something else, to a cathartic release, so Ben found it almost impossible not to react. But this was a vital moment. He would support her, but he needed to make sure their lines didn’t get blurred.
‘I don’t want to go back to Valencia,’ she said softly, eyes searching his, looking for answers. ‘I don’t know what to do next, but running away isn’t going to fix this. It’s not going to solve it.’ She pulled back a little, looked up into his face. ‘Will you take me to Catarno, Benedetto?’
It was the right choice. She needed to stop running, to be back with her family.
