Page 152 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

Antonio didn’t knowwhether to believe that Ms Quell had been ‘forced’ to bring forward the second assessment or not. They shouldn’t have met with her for at least another six days. But her frostily delivered explanation of being needed in court for another client‘whose time is just as important as yours’had been delivered with the sole purpose of putting him in his place.

The interview had gone from bad to worse from there, and no matter how much both he and Ivy had tried to suggest that two days was simply not enough time to achieve what Ms Quell was asking for, it did not help their cause.

‘It’s not the big things that make a marriage work, Mr Gallo, it’s the little things. Like knowing what skincare brand she uses, what perfume. How she likes her coffee.’

Ivy didn’t even like coffee.

Frustration had held him by the throat, and Ivy’s hand on his had been both restraint and warning in one. He’d focused on simply hoping to survive this second assessment, until Ms Quell asked if Ivy would be going with him to the Gallo family party at the end of the week.

Dio mio, he cursed the press and their fascination with his family. Ivy had done well to hide her surprise when he’d replied thatof courseIvy would be going to the family party with him. So, instead of taking Ivy to a gallery opening, he now found himself obliged to attend a party he’d intended to avoid.

Three days later, he still wanted to add Ms Quell to the list of people he would wilfully murder, as he changed gear with a little more force than strictly necessary and punched the gas with his foot. The engine roared satisfyingly beneath him as he palmed the wheel and hugged a familiar corner of the road. But instead of the thrill he usually felt, he was overwhelmingly aware of the tension emanating from Ivy in the passenger seat beside him. He eased off the accelerator.

‘Is my driving making you uncomfortable?’ he asked.

Ivy smiled apologetically. ‘It’s the twists and turns. When we straighten out it’s fine.’

The way she said ‘fine’ made him think of the way he felt about paperwork, and he barked a laugh.

‘Ivy, you can tell me if you don’t like something. You don’t have to be polite.’

‘Okay,’ she hedged. ‘I really don’t like your driving,’ she informed him primly, her hands in her lap, over the skirt of the dress she wore.

Antonio couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips and he shook his head, marvelling how quickly he could flit between murderous anger, amusement and then…howwasit he felt about the upcoming visit with his mother’s family?

It would be good to see Maria and his mother, but for the rest…? He could happily never see or hear from them ever again. Gio’s siblings, and there were many, had been as profligate as their brother, and more proliferate. Every single one of them wanted a piece of Gallo Group, and when they discovered that they weren’t going to get it they would be out for blood. Mainly his and Maria’s. But if Micha chose to show his face, things could get very interesting.

‘What are you brooding about?’ Ivy asked.

‘Brooding?’ he repeated, changing down gear to take another corner. Slowly.

‘Yes, you get this—’ she stopped to gesture with her hands, as if she were rolling a ball between her palms ‘—look about you.’

He glanced at her hands and back to the road.

‘Cogs turning,’ she explained of her gesture. ‘Thinking too hard.’

He sighed. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ he admitted.

Ivy crinkled her nose. ‘Ms Quell seemed to imply that it was a vital part of the assessment.’

‘I think she’s got it in for us.’

‘Do your family know? That we’re married?Whywe’re married?’ Ivy asked hesitantly.

‘My mother and Maria know, as did my grandfather. But it was not the business of anyone else,’ he concluded in clipped tones. ‘It would be best for the rest of the family to believe, like Ms Quell, that we married for love and are considering reconciliation. That way, when we divorce, it won’t be so surprising and it won’t give them a reason to challenge the will when it’s made public.’

Since Gio’s death, the members of the Gallo family had been like wild dogs: rabid and desperate.

‘But they know the terms of the will?’

‘No. Only the four of us—myself, Maria, my mother and Micha—know the terms of the will.’

‘Micha?’ Ivy asked, turning to look at him with a frown.

‘Micha Rufina. He was once a childhood friend. He’s worked for my grandfather most of his life and stands to inherit Gallo Group if Maria and I don’t marry.’

Ivy bit her lip and nodded, before looking out of the window, squinting into the distance.

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