‘Because…because I was scared.’ She hated admitting it, but she didn’t know what else to do.
‘What were you scared of?’
‘You. Sweeping into my life, making demands.’
‘Like seeing my own child? Is that such an outrageous demand?’
‘I was afraid you might ask for something else,’ Mia admitted in a low voice. Alessandro’s eyes narrowed to deadly slits.
‘Ask for something else…?’
‘A termination,’ she admitted, unable to look at him as she said it. ‘You didn’t seem thrilled about a potential pregnancy when you mentioned it to me…’ She trailed off, because the absolutely outraged look on Alessandro’s face kept her from any speech or thought. She shrank beneath his anger, hating that she was doing so.
She’d promised herself never to cower or cringe, and yet here she was, doing both.
‘A termination,’ Alessandro said, and then swore. ‘How dare you make such decisions for me?’
It seemed a strange twist of irony that in trying not to be controlled, she had come across as controlling. Mia sank onto the sofa, overwhelmed by Alessandro’s anger, by the way everything had been turned upside down.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I see now that I shouldn’t have. You just seemed so alarmed by the possibility of a pregnancy…’
‘And you assured me you couldn’t be pregnant! You were on the pill.’
‘I was, but I missed two, because of…well, because of everything.’
‘And you didn’t think to tell me that? To alert me to the possibility?’
‘It seemed such a tiny risk…’
‘Obviously not.’ He wheeled away from her, his anger making him need to move. ‘You made decisions you had no right to make.’
‘I thought I was doing what was best. And it isn’t as if you were checking up or even thinking of me all year, were you?’ she flung at him, tired of being on the defensive. ‘I did an internet search on you, you know. And I have to tell you, Alessandro, what I saw made me less inclined to search you out.’
Alessandro turned back to her, his powerful body taut and still. ‘What you saw?’
‘It looked like you were with a different woman every night.’ Mia lifted her chin. ‘Supermodels and socialites, by the look of them. Your bedroom must have a revolving door.’
‘You almost sound jealous,’ Alessandro remarked in a low, dangerous tone.
‘Hardly,’ Mia scoffed. ‘But from what I saw, you didn’t seem like father material.’ As soon as she said the words, she knew she’d gone too far. Something dark and deadly thrummed through Alessandro, tautening his body, flaring in his eyes.
‘You are not in a position to judge my parenting skills,’ he said in a voice that was all the more frightening in its quiet intensity. ‘That was not your right, just as it was not your right to keep this information—and my own child—from me.’ Mia opened her mouth, trying to frame a response that was not quite an apology, but Alessandro cut across her before she’d barely drawn a breath. ‘In any case, whatever you saw online…those were nothing more than social engagements.’
‘Are you saying it never went further?’ she scoffed. ‘I have trouble believing—’
‘I’m not saying one thing or the other,’ Alessandro replied, his voice rising, edged with ire. ‘It has no relevance. We weren’t a couple. I didn’t know.’ He took a step towards her, menacing in his stature, his pure physical presence. Mia held her ground, but only just. ‘No matter what photos you saw of me online, you should have told me I was going to be a father. End of.’
‘Fine.’ Her voice quavered as her hands once more bunched into helpless fists at her sides. ‘Fine, I should have. I admit that. But…can’t you admit your part in this? Getting rid of me the day after…’ Her voice trembled and broke. ‘The very next day, Alessandro. Can’t you realise how that made me feel?’
Colour slashed his cheekbones as he jerked his head in a brief nod. ‘It would have happened eventually, but I admit, our…liaison precipitated it. I thought working together would be a distraction. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been quite so…abrupt.’
‘So that was you making a unilateral decision,’ Mia returned, her voice shaking, ‘while calling me to account for doing the same.’
‘They’re entirely different situations, Mia. A job versus a baby. You cannot compare,’ Alessandro fired back, taking another step towards her so they were nearly standing toe to toe. Mia felt exhausted by his anger; her daughter was three months old, she’d been going it alone the entire time, and she was hormonal and sleep deprived and very near tears. Still, she took a steadying breath and met his furious, narrowed gaze with a challenging one of her own.
‘I’m not comparing, I’m only asking you to understand where I was coming from.’
‘I can’t understand at all where you’re coming from,’ he snapped. ‘What you did was inexcusable—’
‘Did you come here to blame me, Alessandro, for everything? Because I get it. This is all my fault. Message received. Now you can go home.’ Her voice trembled and tears she was desperate for him not to see stung her eyes. She turned away from him, too tired to keep battling.
She flopped onto the sofa, tucking her knees up to her chest. She’d just put Ella down for a nap and she’d been hoping for a little sleep herself. Clearly that was now an impossibility, which alone was enough to make her cry.
‘I’m not going home.’ Alessandro came to sit on the sofa opposite her, his hands resting on his knees. He gave her a level look that Mia could barely summon the energy to return.
‘What do you want, then?’ she asked tiredly, only to realise how open and dangerous that question was.
Now that she could think about it all properly, the shock of seeing him finally starting to fade, she realised he’d flown a long way for nothing more than a confrontation. He couldn’t have come simply for that. He had to want more. A lot more. But what?
‘I want my daughter,’ Alessandro stated simply, the words icing the blood in her veins and freezing her soul. She stared at him, as trapped as an animal in a snare, as his iron-hard gaze slammed into hers. ‘And I’m not leaving without her.’
Alessandro hadn’t meant the words as a threat, but he recognised that they sounded like one. He saw it in the flare of Mia’s eyes, the pulse that beat in her throat, as her hand crept up to press against her chest as if to still her fast-thudding heart. No, it wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.
‘Alessandro, be reasonable…’
‘Reasonable? What is reasonable about having my child hidden from me for
