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“I did,” Adeline insisted, nodding her head. “That buyer—the one I arranged to see the resort—he was a fake. There was never any offer to buy the Romano del Mare. I lied to you.”
The words were out, and Adeline braced herself for the shattering of her entire world.
NICOLO
Nicolo’s head pulled back but his hands held onto hers. “No, how can you know the mind of a buyer in and out?”
“No, he was never a buyer. He was doing me a favor by coming and seeming to be interested. I”—she sniffed—“wanted you to believe that someone would want the Romano del Mare restored. I wanted you to believe that she could be whole again. You mean so much to me. I couldn’t stand this lie being between us any longer. It’s been eating away at me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Nicolo sat back in his chair, and Adeline’s hand slipped out of his fingers. “He was a fake?” Within him, the sun set and the world went black. Adeline was not who he’d thought she was. How could he love someone who did not exist?
Adeline pressed her trembling lips together and nodded her head. She finally looked at him instead of everywhere else, and a heavy tear fell from the curve of her lower lid to her cheek. He should lean forward and brush her tear away—but he stayed as he was, leaning back with his arms fallen at his sides.
“Me and my family committed to spending millions more on the renovation of the Romano del Mare on top of the millions already owed, and we did it because you manipulated my pride.” Nicolo’s voice was monotone. Empty. It was a reflection of the hollowness of his chest.
“My” pride, a voice within him reminded himself. His pride had taken him down his current path, that was true. It was not Adeline, not really. She had not made him do anything that he had not wanted to do, but that did not keep his blood from boiling. It did not stop his feelings of being misused and manipulated. She had used his feelings for her against him, and rage filled him as he stared at her, wondering where the girl he’d thought he’d known had gone.
“Who are you?” he asked, bewildered.
A strangled sob escaped Adeline in response to his question, and she covered her mouth with shaking fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said again. She reached her other hand across the table, but he did not lift his hands to meet her. Instead, he remained as he was with his arms hanging down.
“I have never loved anyone as I have loved you, and it’s clouded my judgement. You have made a fool of me. A fool, bedda. I am a man, a man who loves you, and you have made me a fool.” He slammed his closed fist into his chest above his heart. “You make me wonder if it’s better to not love at all if women can be trusted to have no honor. You used me to get what you want, and me and my family will pay the cost of your childish wants and fairy tale dreams. It costs you nothing. Not honor, because you had none to begin with. Not money, because money has no value if it’s in somebody else’s hands. And it did not even cost you me because a fake person”—he motioned a hand to indicate her—“cannot truly lose anything because they didn’t exist in the first place.”
Nicolo stood up so abruptly from the table that his chair flipped over onto the hard floor with a clatter. Then, turning on his heel, he stalked off to the kitchens and left Adeline crying at the table. In less than two minutes, he was back with a young man dressed in black pants, a sleeveless t-shirt, and a full length apron.
“This is Pietro. He’s going to take you back to the plane, and the plane will take you back to Sicily. I will make sure that there is a car waiting for you to drive you home from there.” He couldn’t stand to be near her for another minute. He had been nothing more than her marionette, and he was cutting the strings.
Adeline’s large, round eyes went wide as her tender lips parted. It took her a moment to find her voice. “You’re not coming?”
“The plane will come back for me. I’m needed in India.” He had planned on renting a car and driving down to the tip to take a ferry across to Sicily, but there was no point.
There was no one in Sicily that he wanted to see.
12
Nicolo
“You did what?” Leonardo demanded.
Nicolo flinched and then remembered that his brother could see him over the video screen. “It will work out,” Nicolo reassured. “We can sell the Romano del Mare for much more if she is fully restored. If we show her to be a proven earner, it will benefit us all the more.”
“Oh, we will get back to that and your decision to move forward with fixing her without including either of us in the decision, but I’m talking about Adeline. Are you telling me that you have already messed things up with her?”
“What do you care about Adeline?” Nicolo exclaimed. His personal affairs were none of his brother’s business. It was true that he had not spoken with or seen Adeline in weeks. What he wasn’t telling his brother was that her lingering absence from his life had not been his idea. Since that night in southern Tuscany, she had refused to take his phone calls. He had been tied up in India during all of that time and had not had the chance to track her down in person, but that had changed. His feet were finally back on Sicilian ground.
It had taken him nearly a week of thought and self-reflection to soften his anger and to see Adeline more clearly. Fueling his inner reflection was the misery that had descended on him in Adeline’s absence. She had done him wrong—she had done his entire family wrong—but that did not change all the ways that she was good for him. And, she was good for him. She’d made him want something more than living a transient life with no connections. She had made him want to belong to someone, and his life was empty and without purpose without her in it. All of the goals he’d set for himself and that he’d thought were important became meaningless; his achievements meant nothing without her to share them with.
“I care about you, little brother. You finally found someone to come back to. You found your anchor. Now you’re telling me that you’ve thrown her overboard.”
“She lied!” Nicolo exclaimed. He still cared more about her lie than he wanted to. It had been difficult to let go of her deceit with full forgiveness.
“I don’t care if she did! You have to get her back.” Leonardo yelled back with equal passion. “So she had you wrapped around her little finger? So she manipulated you into doing what she wanted? You know what that is? That’s a woman you want on your side. That’s a woman who will move mountains to take care of and provide for the ones she loves. Who named the Romano del Mare?”
It felt like a trick question, but Nicolo answered anyway. “Nanno.”
“And who told Nanno that he wanted to name it the Romano del Mare?”
Nicolo pursed his lips.
