Page 10 of A Son Hidden from the Sicilian

“You could have told me of his existence,” Lorenzo replied evenly. “Even last night. You had ample opportunity. Yet you chose to keep him from me.”

“Imagine that. That when I learned I was pregnant after being so coldly discarded, and decided I wanted to have this child, that discovering the man I’d shared my body and heart with had lied to me. Had hidden his true identity.” But that wasn’t why she’d kept Gio a secret, was it? Because she’d still been ready to tell Lorenzo, to hope for some kind of reconciliation no matter how hurt she was. Because love made a woman stupid.

But a child did not. “And still I would have told you,” she said, though it was embarrassing to share the truth. But it was necessary he understand this wasn’t about her. It was never abouther. “Until I learned you were engaged in some kind of business battle that would leave a child harmed. Now, whether this is true or not, does it matter? What I read was that a child was hurt. And I would not allow the same to happen to my child.”

“You can be angry at the way things ended for us, Brianna, but you know I am not the sort of man to hurt my own.”

“No. IthoughtI knew that. Then I learned everything I thought I knew about you was a lie. Why shouldn’t your lack of violence be a lie too?”

His jaw was tight, and frustration flashed in those dark eyes. “Not a lie,” he gritted out.

“What is it you said last night? Not a lie, but you kept something from me. Lots of somethings. You claim to prefer the truth, but you hid everything you were. So I couldn’t trust anything I might have felt.”

“A simple internet search when we were together would have told you everything. I was hardly engaging in back-alley machinations to keep you from discovering more about me.”

“But I didn’t search, Lorenzo. Because I trusted you.” She looked away from him then because she hated reliving this pain in front of him. And it had been painful. More painful than she cared to admit to herself. Because she had loved him. Deeply. Immovably.

And he’d deserted her without a second glance. She had been that unimportant to him. “More the fool me, I know,” she murmured, staring at the glittering building people were pouring into, glittering themselves like so many jewels.

She didn’t belong here.

But shewashere, and here was an opportunity. “I did what I thought was best. I always will when it comes to Gio,” she said, calm and detached, she liked to think. “You can be angry about it. You have every right to be. But it changes nothing. Not what happened, not how I feel.”

Lorenzo’s door opened. He didn’t move right away. His gaze was on her, opaque and unreadable, for what felt like forever. Then he moved, sliding out of the car.

Brianna let out a long breath she had not been fully aware of holding. Holding her breath. Holding her own. She was managing and she had to keep managing, but it was a hard-won thing.

Her door opened, and Lorenzo stood there, still a figure that took her breath away. She knew what he would look like without the jacket, the tie. With the buttons unbuttoned, with his hands in her hair and his mouth hard and demanding. Or soft and exploratory. She knew what it would feel like to slide her hand into his as she now had to do.

With all that had happened in two years between them shooting barbs and reigniting old hurts. And still she knew the contact would spread through her like warmth and want.

She steeled herself and then took the hand he offered to help her out of the car. She looked up at Lorenzo and held that dark gaze, determined to be as strong and angry as he was. “I will do everything to protect my son. Right now, I’m trying to believe that you would too. The minute I don’t—I don’t care what billions you have, what power—I will doeverything and anythingto protect him from you if you or your business poses a threat. And I meananything. So perhaps you should take a pause in hating me and blaming me and look inward and make sure nothing you’ve done will follow you and land on Gio’s doorstep.”

Lorenzo stood there, Brianna’s hand in his, her blazing anger focused solely on him. She clearly had no idea how easily he could crush her. With his money. With his power.Hehad all the control.

And yet she stood up to him, all naive confidence that she could best him simply because she wanted to.

This was not the woman he remembered. How soft she’d been back then. Eager. There’d been passion in her, but it had been open. Enthusiastic. Not this sharp-edged force of nature determined to protect something at all costs.

Worse than this surprising new side to her, which didnothingto ease the lustful turn of thoughts that even now he was fighting off, was the fact that she was right. Regardless of his power or his money, therewasthe chance he was a threat to his own son.

There was a tiny, minuscule sense of rightness to her keeping his son from him. Protecting this boy he’d never met nor laid eyes on. Because even though he had not ordered the attack on Dante’s son, Dante clearly thought he had.

And that made Dante dangerous. Just because he hadn’t retaliated yet did not mean he wouldn’t. Particularly if he found out that Lorenzo had a son of his own.

Brianna raised an eyebrow at him now. A silent look that said,Are we going to go in or stand here and stare at each other all night?

She’d rattled him with this idea thathewas an inadvertent threat. When nothing in his adult life had been inadvertent.

Except everything to do withher.

He pushed all these whirling thoughts aside, tucked her soft arm into his and moved them toward the building. A cocktail party was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now, but he knew how to compartmentalize. How to do that which he wanted for the greater good.

Whilehedid not care about Brianna’s dream or talent, their son no doubt would, as he grew. Lorenzo would never be the tool Brianna used to turn their son against him. He would ensure Brianna hadeveryopportunity she desired. If he had to charm everyone at this party himself.

They entered, were greeted by the organizers, and Lorenzo didn’t miss the speculative glances. The whispers in their wake. Perhaps he should not have had them arrive together, but he didn’t trust her not to bolt.

He’d find her. No matter what. But this all worked better, would go smoother, if they did things his exact way.

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