Page 34 of A Son Hidden from the Sicilian

“Now is not the time or the place.”

She leaned forward, ignored the punch of the scent of his expensive cologne. The low twist in her belly that somehow seemed more potent and dangerous with all this anger whirling around inside of her. “Oh, it’s exactly the time and place. Tell me, Lorenzo. What’s the plan? What’s my future?”

“Honestly, Brianna.”

He made a move as if to leave. After dragging her here. After interrupting her conversation. All dismissive arrogance. Oh, no. She all but jumped in front of him, barring him from exit unless he bodily moved her.

He could, she knew, but he was being so very careful she got the feeling he did not want to touch her.

And what didthatmean?

“Tell me, Lorenzo. What’s my future?”

“Very well. It is simple. You will stay in Palermo, on my estate, as will your parents, should they be amenable. You will have your own space, an art studio, and whatever else you require. This way, Gio will never feel as if he’s being shuttled back and forth between two different families.” He recited these all as though they were facts. Set in stone. Already a foregone conclusion.

All that certainty that should make her volcanic, but Brianna had nothing smart to say to that. Shewantedto be angry, but it was... It was everything she wanted. For Gio.

For yourself.

She blinked at that. Why did she want to stay and keep putting herself through this? The same estate? So close to this man when he couldn’t admit anything about what he felt?

She couldn’t believe love was a lie, because to her way of thinking, love was the only thing powerful enough to make an otherwise intelligent woman this stupid and willing to torture herself.

“It will go quite well. A modern solution. Then, to ensure it is seen as such, I will be married by the end of next year to an appropriate wife and stepmother to Gio.”

Married.Stepmother.

Because thisappropriatewife would not be her.

The pain of the blow was truly astonishing. She should have been ready for it. But in one breath he was building her dream life—staying close for Gio’s sake, an art studio for her. But in this dream life he was creating, he would be married to someoneelse.

She wanted toweep. Which she would decidedly not do in front of him. Not when he expected her to just...live on the same estate? Accept this as indisputable fact when the woman he was going to marry didn’t evenexist. Unless it was the woman out there...

Whom he’d paid very little attention to. He’d been looking atBriannaall night. Instead of engaging in conversation with his date, he was too busy dragging Brianna away from nice men making pleasant conversation.

So she didn’t crumble at the idea of him marrying someone else and her just having to take it. Not yet. Because he wasn’t claiming tolovesomeone else. He was just building empires. Maybe it hurt. Maybe she thought him a complete and utter fool. But she could fight it if it wasn’t aboutlove.

She lifted her chin, still blocking his exit. “What about me?”

“What aboutyou?” he returned coolly.

“Am I allowed to marry in this scenario?”

There was a long, stretched-out silence as a muscle ticked in his jaw. When he spoke, it sounded strangled. “As long as I approve of the groom.”

Thiswas enough to make her laugh, rather than cry. But before she could say anything, he continued.

“This is how it will be. You can argue with me. You can whine about it, but in the end, you will see, it is best and that’s what will happen.”

“You are an idiot, Lorenzo. Delusional or too arrogant to function, or both.”

“I grow tired of this insult hurled at me this evening.”

Brianna laughed. Again. Honestly, even with her heart cracking into a million pieces, the whole farce was hilarious. “Did it ever occur to you that everyone insulting you iscorrectif there’s consensus?”

The expression on his face was such that it appeared he hadnotconsidered that. “I’ve had quite enough, Brianna. So move.”

“But you brought me here. To shout at me about my naive choices in having conversations with men at an art show in which myjobis to talk about my art. Tell me, Lorenzo, what did you expect to happen when you dragged me into this dim room, alone?”

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