Page 32 of The Tycoon's Shock Heir

The day of the funeral—that fateful day—things had risen to the surface like so much toxic oil. Claudio had walked towards him, arms outstretched. All the signs of Let’s bury the hatchet for your father’s sake. And Matteo’s urge to be comforted, reassured, had been huge. Here was his father’s best friend, full of remorse, come to console him. He’d wanted it so badly. Despite everything he knew about Claudio he’d wanted to keep something of his father alive—even a corrupted friendship.

He’d been ready to forgive until, deep in Claudio’s embrace, he’d heard those words.

‘Get your hands off my son.’

And he had seen his mother, white-faced, grief-stricken, standing alone behind him.

‘Don’t you touch him. Don’t you dare come here to start your tricks again...’

And then he had known. The suspicion that had wormed black holes into his brain had taken hold and a sickening rage had fallen. It was his father Claudio had loved—not his mother. That was the reason for his presence that had shadowed their lives for years.

His father—his hero, his rock.

Who was the man they’d just buried?

Ashes and dust and the truth gone with him. And Matteo’s own world had crumbled and died too.

His paralysis had been broken. He’d lunged forward and bone had met flesh. His mother had screamed. Vases full of flowers had crashed to the ground. Women had shrieked and men had jumped forward. Hands had heaved at him, pulling him back as he’d struggled to get his hands on him. But Claudio had stepped away, clutching his jaw, spitting through the blood.

‘Get out of here! Get out of our house or I’ll kill you!’

He remembered his own roar. He remembered the words. He remembered the faces of the police officers as they told him they weren’t going to charge him for assault but that he was lucky. And that he’d better give up on the idea of blaming anyone for his father’s death. There was no way he could prove that the alcohol in his bloodstream was the responsibility of anyone but himself.

His mother had been inconsolable, sobbing. Words she’d never dreamed she’d say had finally tumbled out, confessing her secrets while he’d held her grief-wracked body close.

He learned that his father’s relationship with Claudio had gone further than friendship.

They’d battled it together. She’d stood by him once, but she would not do it a second time.

And then that journey back to St Andrew’s. The urge, the yearning, the need to see Sophie, to see her smile and feel her arms and let himself go, let it all out. But he hadn’t been able to do that, because she had stood there naked, with another man. Betrayal had been everywhere he looked. Nothing had been safe, nothing sure. Love was worthless.

‘Matteo?’

David’s voice.

‘Hmm...?’

‘Maybe you should head up and start hosting. Things seem to be hotting up already.’

He was here. It was now. His father had done what he had done. He was never coming back, but after years of work the bank might just make it back to where it had once been. He might just pull this off. He might just be able to feel as if Claudio’s dark shadow wasn’t going to hang over them for ever.

He stared at the crowd of youngsters who’d now dispersed and were wandering through the rose bushes at the edge of the steps, with a photographer snapping them here and there as they moved.

‘Let’s go,’ he said.

He strode up the lawn. People turned to stare. He could feel the interested glances of women and their light-voiced laughter like torches lighting his way up the path.

White marble steps appeared. He bounded up them. At the top were more of the young men and women who’d won the Medaille d’Or that afternoon. Bronzed and happy and on their way to a good time. He shook hands and kissed cheeks, walked on through the throng.

Faces swam before him—bright, smiling faces, so much happiness. The bank’s brand was really on the rise. It was just what his father would have wanted. They were finally back in the big league.

He took all the praise with a smile, but it still felt undeserved. Until they had those extra clients from Arturo Finance he wouldn’t feel back in the black.

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