Page 168 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

Sanzio breezed through his workload. Though he wasn’t taking on new business ventures, he had been impressed with the owner of a beleaguered engineering company near Milan. The company was well run but undercapitalised for its growing order book. Tomorrow’s meeting would decide if he wanted to contribute finance, at a reasonable rate of interest, or invest and take a shareholding, and when the company cash flow allowed, he was happy for it to be bought out again by the owner.

Meeting over, his desk would be clear and he and Eleanora could take off for Como, spend a few relaxing days there, then fly back to Rome and head off to the Palazzo. He was eager to get back. Eager to have Eleanora there.

A smile curved his mouth. How right he’d been to give in to his desire for her, the perfect next step to take. It was giving him so, so much—everything was working out just as he’d wanted it to.

I have exactly what I want.

And, he knew—his smile deepened—what Eleanora wanted. Her ardent desire for him, passionate and uninhibited, proved that to him night after night.

His smile thinned. As for Tonia—last night had given her exactly what she deserved.

And that—his expression hardened—was what he wanted too.

* * *

Tonia arrived late, which didn’t surprise Eleanora, nor had the choice of venue, one of the city’s most fashionable watering holes. Her greeting was careless, focusing on ordering a cocktail for herself. She was looking, as ever, a knockout, in a royal blue suit, tightly cinched at the waist, wide lapels displaying a generous amount of cleavage. Dark glasses, sporting a very exclusive label, held back her lush raven tresses, and she was wearing full make-up.

Her eyes ran critically over Eleanora in her smart moss-green shift and chic jacket. Out of force of habit, Eleanora braced for some scathing remark about her appearance. Then realised that Tonia wouldn’t be able to do that. Not now.

Because I look good—and, more essentially, I know I look good!

Both were thanks to Sanzio, releasing her from her sister’s malign spell.

And she’ll never be able to cast another one—I won’t let it happen. Never again!

Determination fuelled her, enabling her to dismiss Tonia contenting herself with a sideways snipe.

‘Sanzio really has had you brushed up,’ she remarked. ‘You must be costing him! But then,’ she added dismissively, ‘he obviously had to do something to stop you looking like your usual dog’s dinner—’

Eleanora made no reply, only sipped her glass of white wine. Tonia took a gulp of her cocktail. She sat back, looking sleek and relaxed. Was she really concerned about adverse gossip? Eleanora found herself wondering. She didn’t look it. She was about to ask when Tonia spoke again, tilting her head to one side, eyeing Eleanora. It was a familiar look, and was always followed by something waspish and spiteful. Again, she braced herself. She would outface Tonia, whatever she threw at her. But she hadn’t braced sufficiently.

‘So, baby sister, what’s Sanzio like in bed then? Do tell!’

It was asked so casually, as if it were nothing. Eleanora’s expression froze. The memory of that nasty little text Tonia had sent her on the day after her wedding asking just the same, but with far more mockery, assailed her.

‘Oh, come on, Ellie-Ellie,’ Tonia said impatiently, ‘don’t go coy on me! Of course he’s sleeping with you—that’s what the makeover was for—he couldn’t face sex with you otherwise! And he’ll definitely be wanting sex—he’s not the celibate type, Sanzio. I should know—I had a hard time holding him off!’ She gave a throaty laugh.

Eleanora’s face had stiffened. ‘Tonia, don’t,’ she said tightly. It was obvious Tonia was intent on having a go at her, any way she could.

But I won’t cut and run—I’ll stand up to her!

Determination filled her.

Tonia’s eyes had widened exaggeratedly. ‘Don’t? That was my line, sister dear—to Sanzio!’ She knocked back more of her cocktail. ‘OK, don’t tell if you don’t want to. I’m sure it’s nothing like the way it would have been with me. Still might be—if I feel like it.’

It was casually said, just like her intrusive, offensive question just now, her gaze on Eleanora baiting. Then she gave another laugh, drank some more of her cocktail. Expression mocking now. Eyes never leaving Eleanora’s.

‘You really don’t get it, do you, Ellie-Ellie?’ Her voice dripped acid. ‘Why do you think Sanzio married you after I turned him down? Not just to get that crumbling ruin he’s obsessed with and to wind me up for dumping him for Edouard. He did it—’ her eyes narrowed ‘—because he knows the one thing I really adore is a challenge.’

She drained her cocktail, ordered another. Went on talking. Her narrowed eyes were fastened on Eleanora’s. Like a snake’s on its prey…

‘And there really is, you know—well, you don’t and never will, but never mind, poor little you!—there really is nothing quite so delicious as helping yourself to a married man. Especially because, Ellie dear, it really does add a very special piquancy when it’s my own sister’s husband!’

Eleanora held up a hand. She’d come here to prove to herself, to show Tonia, that she was no longer her sister’s punchbag. Just because Tonia was punching her from a different direction—a particularly offensive one—now that she couldn’t mock her appearance any longer, made no difference.

She took a sharp breath. ‘Tonia, stop. I know you’re just trying to wind me up, upset me, but you can give up right now. I no longer buy it, anything you throw at me! And it’s just rubbish what you’re saying! You don’t mean any of it. Why would you? You’re married yourself now.’

A scornful laugh broke from Tonia. ‘What’s that got to do with it? God, how totally naïve you are! And I suppose you’re naïve enough to think your darling Sanzio wouldn’t play ball? What do you think last night was all about? Cold-shouldering me the way he did, being all over you! Just to get me interested again. That’s what it was for.’