Melanie Milburne - The Scandalous Sabbatinis

She had spent most of the night once she got home arguing with herself over whether she should have told him from the get-go about Ella. But then the counter argument was always the same: how could she trust him not to take Ella away from her? After all, he had left her in London without a single explanation as to why their affair was over. What was to stop him doing the same thing again, but this time taking Ella with him? It was just too risky. She had to protect her daughter. She had to protect herself.

‘So are you seeing him again?’ Rachel asked.

‘Yes,’ Bronte said, slipping out of her street shoes to begin her stretches. ‘Dinner tonight. I don’t know why I agreed to it. I know it’s only asking for trouble. He wants to resume our relationship as if nothing happened.’

‘That’s men for you,’ Rachel said, rolling her eyes. ‘So did he tell you why he broke things off before?’

‘Not really,’ Bronte said, frowning. ‘Just that it was a bad time for him or something.’

‘You think there was someone else?’

Bronte let out another long breath. ‘I don’t know what to think. When I spoke to the housekeeper at his place in Milan she was adamant he was involved with someone in LA.’

‘But?’

Bronte met her friend’s grey gaze. ‘I get the feeling Luca is not being totally straight with me. I don’t trust him. I don’t think I will ever trust him after what he did. He could have a woman in every country for all I know.’

‘You said he wants to resume his relationship with you,’ Rachel said. ‘But how are you going to do that without telling him about Ella?’

‘He knows about Ella,’ Bronte said. ‘He just doesn’t know she’s his. I left my phone behind and he saw some of the pictures I’d taken of her lately. I let him assume she was someone else’s child.’

Rachel frowned. ‘How’d you do that?’

Bronte gave her a sheepish look. ‘I sort of lied about her age.’

Rachel shook her head in disapproval. ‘That could come back to bite you, Bronte. You should have told him. It will only make things much worse the longer you leave it.’

‘I can’t tell him,’ Bronte said, pressing a hand to her aching head. ‘He could take her off me. You don’t know what the Sabbatinis are like, Rachel. They’re one of the most powerful dynasties, not just in Italy but all over Europe. They’re practically royalty. They have money and prestige and power beyond belief. I spent a bit of time on the Net last night when I couldn’t sleep, looking them up. His father died about three years before I met Luca, but Giancarlo and Giovanna Sabbatini brought their three sons up with more silver spoons than you could possibly count. Luca’s grandfather, Salvatore, is reputed to be one of the richest men in the whole of Europe. Luca told me very little of his background when we were involved. I’m not sure why, maybe because so many women were attracted to him and his brothers because of their wealth. I didn’t even know who he was when we met. He thought that was highly amusing. I think it might have been one of the reasons he let our relationship continue as long as it did as it was such a refreshing change from what he was used to. He was sick of people fawning over him. He once said to me it is hard to really know who your friends are when you have money.’

‘You do realise that Ella is by birth entitled to some of that money, don’t you?’ Rachel said. ‘She’s got Sabbatini blood in her veins. And, according to what I read in the papers about Luca’s older brother’s marriage breaking up without an heir, Ella is so far the only grandchild.’

Bronte pressed her lips together. She hadn’t thought of it quite like that. She hadn’t thought about Ella’s rights and entitlements as a Sabbatini heir. What if some time in the future her daughter resented her for not allowing her to get to know her father and his family?

‘Look, Bronte,’ Rachel went on. ‘I know Luca hurt you and you don’t trust him not to hurt you again, but you can’t keep his own flesh and blood a secret from him for ever. For all you know, he might be surprisingly good about it. After all, he was the one who cut you from his life. You did your best to contact him so if anyone’s to blame for him not being a part of Ella’s first year and a bit, it’s him.’

Bronte’s shoulders sagged. ‘I know I have to tell him some time. It’s just finding the right time to do it.’

‘There’s probably never going to be a perfect time to drop that sort of news into the conversation,’ Rachel said. ‘But it’s better he hears it from you rather than from someone else or, worse, stumbles across the truth himself. Photos are not the same as seeing someone face to face. As soon as Luca walked in here yesterday I realised who he was. That’s why I kept my mouth shut. Ella might favour you primarily, but no one could ever question she wasn’t his daughter. Once he sees her in the flesh, he’s going to see it for himself.’

Bronte tried to put her fears aside as she got on with her day but it was impossible to ignore the prospect of the evening ahead. She got home early enough to feed Ella her dinner and bathe her and have some play time before putting her to bed. Ella was a little grizzly and out of sorts and kept gnawing on her fingers, which made Bronte feel uneasy about leaving her.

‘I think she might be teething again,’ Bronte’s mother said as she came into the granny flat to babysit. ‘She was a bit grumpy yesterday too.’

Bronte placed her hand on her daughter’s forehead, frowning as she felt its clammy heat. ‘I’d better check her temperature. She feels hot.’

Tina produced the rapid test ear thermometer and handed it to Bronte. The reading was normal but still Bronte felt in two minds about leaving her daughter in such an unsettled state. ‘Maybe I should ring Luca and cancel,’ she said. ‘He gave me his contact details. Or I could just leave a message with the concierge at the hotel.’

Tina plucked the whining child from Bronte’s arms and cuddled her close. ‘Get it over with, love,’ she said. ‘Have dinner with him and then say goodbye and leave it at that. He’ll soon get the message you’re not interested. I know Rachel thinks you should tell him about Ella but I think you’d be better to let this particular sleeping dog lie.’

Bronte knew why her mother was so adamant about keeping Ella’s paternity a secret from Luca. Tina was frightened her little granddaughter would be taken to live far away in another country. Apart from Bronte and Ella, Tina had very little in her life. A single mother herself from a young age, all she had was her work at a machinery parts factory, which could hardly be called a fulfilling career. Bronte and now little Ella were the entire focus of her life. She had never dated, rarely socialised and had few hobbies. Rachel had warned Bronte many times that her mother was living her life vicariously through Bronte but it had been too hard for Bronte to do anything about it. She had needed her mother, just as much if not more than her mother needed her.

‘If she doesn’t settle, promise you’ll ring me,’ Bronte said as she rummaged through her wardrobe for something to wear.

‘She’ll be fine,’ Tina assured her. ‘I’ll nurse her for a while until she drops off.’ She looked down at the infant in her arms and continued wistfully, ‘I love watching her sleep. It reminds me of when you were a baby. It was just you and me in those days. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you. You were my whole world.’

Bronte smiled and leant down to kiss her mother and her little daughter. ‘I won’t be late,’ she said softly. ‘And thanks, Mum, for everything.’

Tina smiled back but Bronte could see there was a tinge of worry in her eyes as she watched her leave.