make that time now, Clio. As long as we carry on this pretense, you already have a full-time job of being my adoring wife.”
“Believe me, it’s not easy to remember the adoring part,” she quipped.
With a deft aim, he threw a plastic spoon at her.
The way his eyes lit up, he reminded her of when he had been so carefree and affectionate and open. The memory that smile brought was so strong that she stared at him greedily.
“My board members and their wives are dying to meet you. And my assistant tells me we’ve been invited to several dinners and charity galas, in and out of New York.”
“I should probably charge you for making me into a glorified escort.”
“I think escorts provide other services, bella.” He sent her such a scorching look that Clio should have combusted on the spot. “Are you offering?”
“Do you want to start our fairy-tale marriage with domestic assault, Bianco?”
He grinned and it was like her own personal sun had dawned in the living room, filling her with his warmth inside out. “No, Mrs. Bianco,” he countered smoothly. “I’d like to start it with a kiss from my wife.”
Robbed of speech, Clio stared back. It shouldn’t bother her. It was just a technicality. He was teasing her.
Still, the words clung to her like a physical brand on her skin.
Apparently satisfied that he had shocked her, he forked a piece of pancake into his mouth. The usually scornful curve of his mouth relaxed with a sigh.
“It’s not my fault that they all want to meet you. Apparently, you’re an asset any sensible man would be lucky to have.”
“Of course. Let’s not forget how valuable my blue blood and where I come from are. Because there couldn’t be any other reason in the world that a man would want me, right?”
“Do not put words in my mouth, bella. But I will tell you this because you seem to be forgetting it. It took guts to tie yourself to me, Clio. If you didn’t know it before, you know it now, sì? I will give you nothing but what you have rightfully earned from me.
“Yet you didn’t back off. It took guts to start on the path to reclaim yourself. It took guts to take a stand on what matters to you when Jackson used those filthy words for you.
“You’re far stronger than you give yourself credit for. Now find something on Jackson during the day while you dazzle the world as my wife at night.”
Clio stared at his back, his words ringing in her ears.
He was right. That decision had entirely been hers. But only two days in, she wondered if it was more dangerous than courageous.
* * *
Dazzle the world was what they did and they did it so well that even Clio couldn’t tell where the pretense ended and where reality began.
Charity galas and dinners with influential, powerful men from all over the world, sometimes in New York, once in Hong Kong and once in London—from visiting art galleries to the charity-sponsored schools and shelters all over the world.
And everywhere they went—big or small—the media followed them.
In just a couple of weeks, Clio and Stefan had been almost around the world aboard his private jet and had become the media’s favorite couple to talk about.
Frustrated more than once about hitting a wall with Jackson’s financials, Clio had taken to alternately learning as much as she could about the charity that Rocco, Christian, Stefan and Zayed had set up to help underprivileged kids in so many cities complete degrees through scholarships and find jobs.
The range and scope of the charity stole her breath. It made her immensely proud to learn of the continuing resources and time all four of them poured into it and excited her beyond limit that she could be a part of something so fulfilling.
And wherever Stefan and she landed after their marriage, she wanted to be a part of it for the rest of her life, could see herself carve a path through it.
In a weird twist of fate, she was enjoying the pretend life with Stefan more than she had enjoyed her real one with Jackson for three years, even though it was essentially the same kind of life—jet-setting, networking, showing off, making and breaking deals over dinner and drinks.
The man at the center of it, however, made all the difference.
Being around Stefan was like being caught in the orbit of a star—invigorating and exciting. And it made her never want to leave. Everywhere she went, she saw acquaintances—some she had known through Jackson—but it seemed like a foregone conclusion that, of course, Stefan was the victor in some fight against Jackson, and she the spoils.
She knew she shouldn’t feel pleasure at that so much, but as Stefan had said, Clio was going to take every small victory. Because the one time they had run into Jackson, he hadn’t dared meet her eyes, much less utter a word.
Only the price she paid for that felt increasingly high.
The most luxurious and spacious suite in one of the finest hotels in New York wasn’t big enough for the both of them.
She felt Stefan’s restlessness at being caged in the suite like a physical force, sensed a loneliness that had hardened into a shell around his emotions.
The only time there were flashes of the old Stefan was when one of his three friends was present. It was the only time she saw genuine laughter in his face.
And the more she saw of this new Stefan, the more she wanted to shatter that shell.
Despite knowing that it was the last thing she should be doing, she couldn’t stop from trying. She had already contacted his parents, was counting the minutes to when they would arrive in New York.
Was desperately praying that he wouldn’t throw her out of that suite the moment he saw them.
* * *
“Your wife is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen,” his fifty-seven-year-old accounts manager gushed and Stefan barely stifled the urge to punch the man’s ruddy face. The old lech had already pawed at Clio when Stefan had introduced her.
Smiling at him, which took quite a considerable effect, he turned away from the man, leaving him midsentence.
“Ready to go home?” he whispered, reaching Clio.
Flinching at the palm resting against her lower back, Clio covered up the wariness in her eyes.
Before she could reply, Stefan’s cell buzzed and he checked the identity of the caller.
It was the hospital where his assistant, Marco, was still struggling for his life. His gaze fell on Jackson in the crowd just as he switched his phone on.
Two minutes into the conversation, grief knocked the breath out of his throat. Turned his gut into an aching chasm.
Not trusting his temper, he
