Signed Over to Santino - Page 37

‘I managed to get myself a scholarship to university a year early. He turned up the day before I left, mistakenly thinking the coast was clear. I finally got a chance to give him a big piece of my mind. The next time we met was when I returned to Menor Compostela after my mother died.’ His mouth tightened for several tense seconds. ‘Her last wish was to be buried within her family crypt. I guess in death she wanted to belong somewhere. But they refused. My father has the power to overrule their decision.’

‘But to do that he has to publicly acknowledge his association with her?’

‘Sí,’ he breathed unevenly. ‘He refused to help. Until three years ago.’

Dread liquidised her insides. ‘What happened?’

‘His grapes were wiped out by freak weather a week before the harvest. He lost millions of euros’ worth of stock overnight. His Rioja had been producing mediocre wine due to bad management for years anyway, and he was on the verge of bankruptcy. Had it been left to me, I would’ve happily watched him sink into the mud he valued over my mother’s life,’ he grated icily.

‘But you stepped in?’

‘On condition he did the right thing by my mother.’

Foreboding gripped Carla’s nape. The bleak landscape he’d painted required no maps as to how the story ended. She wanted to tell him to stop, to forgive her guilt by association. But Javier was ruthlessly laying out the full picture. Helplessly she stared at him, bearing the full brunt of his complete condemnation.

‘The tabloid quote about my bastard parentage was printed three days after I saved his precious estate. It’s one thing to have your secrets whispered behind your back. As long as no one dared to confront him with the truth, he could pretend he was a pillar of society. The potential for outing a dirty little secret prompted other journalists to dig even deeper. My mother, finally accepting he would never do right by her, had got her own back by listing him as the father of her child once she knew she was dying. Someone got hold of my birth certificate and it was suddenly all over the news. He refused to take my calls for two years.’

She flicked her tongue over suddenly dry lips. ‘Javier, I’m so very sorry.’

He strode back to where she sat. One falsely indolent hand tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear before his flat eyes scoured her from forehead to chin and back again.

‘You probably are, querida. But the reality is my mother is still buried in that back yard I detested all my life because that is where she settled for when she knew she couldn’t be with her family. I watched her settle for less than she was worth all her life. I have no room in my life now for forgiveness. Not until I make things right for her.’ His eyes slowly narrowed. ‘And you throwing obstacles in my way hasn’t helped my disposition one little bit.’

Her breath shuddered out. She opened her mouth, to say what, she didn’t know.

He rose abruptly, strangling any response she might have thought of. When she realised he was heading for the front door, she regained her power of speech.

‘Where are you going?’

He flicked the keys he’d plucked up from a nearby console. ‘This day off has turned out to be a terrible idea.’

‘You’re going into the office?’

‘Yes. For one thing, I need to deal with the fire your father started.’

A wave of relief swept through her. ‘You’re stopping the Vita Italia articles?’

‘Unless he’s prepared to prove to me that there’s nothing damaging to you in them, they will never see the light of day. Not unless he relishes opposing me in court. I hope he doesn’t. My tolerance levels are stretched thin as it is.’

‘What about your father?’

‘His grapes are failing again. I just need to bide my time.’

He gripped the door handle and turned before she summoned her voice once more. ‘And what about me, Javier?’

He turned with a lithe grace that was sublime to watch. Dark eyes raked her from head to toe, returning to hers far more intense than they’d been a few minutes ago. ‘Patience, Principessa,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll get round to dealing with you sooner than you think.’

He was gone before she’d exhaled her next breath. Like a deflated balloon, she sagged onto the sofa. When she managed to get her reeling senses under control, she pulled her legs to her chest and replayed everything Javier had said to her.

Cradling her chin on her knees, she closed her eyes in despair.

No wonder he’d been furious with her. It didn’t matter that the major fault was her father’s. Between the two of them, they’d denied Javier the one thing he craved most—peace for his mother.

She couldn’t do anything about it now, the harm was done. But she could see to it that her father got the message about her life being her own from now on, once and for all. Heading to her suite, she located her phone and dialled his number. She let it go to voicemail three times before she finally left a message. Her father would ans

wer her summons, or face the lawyers she intended to hire on Monday.

As for Javier, she prayed that, when the time came, whatever punishment he chose to dole out would be tempered with the same consideration that had prompted him to take her to his mother’s secluded garden.

Tags: Maya Blake Billionaire Romance
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