Page 33 of A Son Hidden from the Sicilian

“Oh. Do you? Perhaps you should be more worried about yourself,dusci,” she said, trotting out that little term as if turnabout would somehow make this all fair play. But none of it was fair, and she was so...mad about that. At him. At the situation. At herself. “About whatyou’reafter. Because your actions are not matching your words.”

“Three years ago I fired him, Brianna. Now he works for Dante Marino. The man bound and determined to make our son a target. I have kept that from happening, and will continue to do so, but you cannot be so...so...naive.”

Naive.

“Oh, so flirting with me is his great revenge? Explain that to me, Lorenzo, when you don’t even care about me. You brought a date. The whole idea is to make certain no one thinks there’s anything remotely romantic going on between us. A man flirting with me—regardless of what he’s after—suits your little narrative, does it not?”

His mouth firmed at that.

“You’re, in fact, ruining your own plan by talking to me. By taking me off to this isolated room where no one can see us. If people noticed, don’t you think they’ll talk? Don’t you think they’ll wonder why you left your date to pull me away from a veryniceman complimenting me about my art?”

“I don’t care what people think.”

She laughed, and she knew it was a tad high-pitched, maybe even borderline hysterical. But the man was driving her insane. On multiple levels. And still, in spite of all of that, she wanted to be right here. Talking to him—not...whatever the other man’s name was. Not her manager. Not anyone but Lorenzo.

She wanted to know what Lorenzo thought of her latest piece. She wanted to hear him speak of his family, or she wanted to tell him a funny Gio story. She wanted to kiss him. To find a way back to Florence and those two blissful months she still looked back on as some of the best days of her life.

She still felt like that woman in a sense, but she wasn’t. Because that had been before Gio. She was the same person in so many ways, but she’d grown. Matured.

Had Lorenzo? He hadn’t known he had a son. He hadn’t had a broken heart. He’d walked away scot-free and now some of the consequences were at his door. Was he exactly the same man he’d been? Would he change?

Couldhe change?

She studied him in the dim light. So full of restrained frustration. Shealmostfelt sorry for him. He had taken Gio in with open arms. He was made to be a father after all, but that didn’t mean he’d dealt with any of the emotional implications. No, he was too busy plotting and planning what the future would look like. Too busy thwarting Dante Marino’s attempts to ruin his reputation.

He was trying to wrestle the world under his control, and he was very good at it. But there were things you could never fully control. Namely other people.

He thought he could though, didn’t he? Control her. The woman he’d brought. The narrative of how people thought of him in regards to hisenterprisesand what he wished to do there.

The only reason Brianna was back in his orbit was because of their child, so he would mold her into the lifehewanted...with no concern to her own wants. No concern to anything except his preciousplansandcontrol.

Hedictated who she spoke to.Hedictated what events they were allowed to be seen at together.Healone made the choices.

She could love him and still know that was no way to live.

“I am not some toy, some possession, Lorenzo. I never have been. Maybe that’s why you left me the way you did. Because you could not control how I would react. You could not put a neat little bow on it if I had a chance to have a say in it.” She preferred the dream world where he left because he simply loved her too much, but this one made a lot more sense.

He scoffed. “You are obsessed with the past.”

Which was interesting because it was still not agreement or denial. Every time she brought up two years ago, he evaded. Would she ever understand what had happened or would he always leave her wondering?

It didn’t matter.Sheknew she had no control over the world and most especially other people. That was a major lesson in motherhood.

“No, Lorenzo. Not obsessed. I’m workingthroughthe past. Working through the events that shaped me, that still affect me emotionally. It’s healthy, actually. Necessary to adapt and grow. I’d suggest you do the same, but I know how you’ll respond to that.”

“The past is gone. We must prepare for the future.”

“Ah, the future. Let me guess.” She crossed her arms over her chest to mimic his pose. To meet his cold decisiveness with a frigid dismissiveness. “You know exactly how that’s going to go.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I have a plan.”

He looked so...royal. Standing there tall and shoulders back. Expression remote, but with a confidence that never seemed to shake. She should not find it appealing. Should not be distracted by the shape of his mouth, the intensity in his eyes.

So she tried to focus on how she felt about hisplans. “I’m eager to hear it. You’ll have a hard time walking out in the middle of the night when I’m staying at your estate, Lorenzo. What are you going to do? Escape to Florence this time when things get a little too real?”

He said nothing to that. Nor did he leave. Maybe he was not as in control as he liked to believe. Or she did.

“Go on then. Lay this plan on me. If not escape, what’s next? How is our future going to go, oh, Wise One?”

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