Kłamca 2,5. Machinomachia. Jakub Ćwiek
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Luigi was angry, fiercely angry. His stomach was a tight, knotted ball and he wanted to lash out. He had felt bad enough when Megan left him, but for her to be carrying his child when she did so went beyond the pale. Had she hated him that much? Did she still hate him?
In truth, he hadn’t realised that anything had gone wrong with their marriage. Night after sleepless night he’d racked his brains for a possible reason and come up with nothing. He’d thought she was happy, she had no reason not to be. He was a good provider; she’d never been left wanting. He’d worked long hours, yes, but she understood that. It was the only way to get anywhere.
None of her friends or even her parents had known where she’d gone, and his search had proved fruitless. Not even the police could help him. He had immersed himself more deeply into his work, hoping that one day she would get in touch. Finally, though, he’d had to accept that their marriage was over. And he’d worked even harder.
When he’d seen her in his London store he’d been stunned, and when he had looked closely at the little girl he’d known at once that it was his child. He had an old photograph somewhere of his mother at the same age and there was a distinct likeness.
Megan had denied him his daughter and now she was trying to say that he had no rights to her. Lord, she really must hate him. What the hell had he done to her? Of one thing he was sure; he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. She was not going to walk out on him again.
‘I have no choice?’ she questioned now. ‘Believe me, no one, and that includes you, makes me do anything I don’t want to do.’
He admired the way she stood up for herself. Her bright eyes and prickly stance reminded him of an animal defending its young. And that was exactly what she was doing. But Charlotte was as much his as Megan’s.
‘Give me a reason why you don’t want to spend Christmas with me.’ He was sure she had none, except that she no longer loved him. But that was no excuse for depriving her daughter, his daughter. He’d never very much liked children, and he’d always worked over Christmas, but all of a sudden he found himself looking forward to taking a few days off and getting to know this beautiful little girl who kept peeping at him from behind her mother’s dressing gown.
He would shower her with presents, she would want for nothing, and it would be a Christmas filled with all the good things in life.
And after that? asked his conscience.
After that he would keep her with him, of course. It was her rightful place. Both Charlotte and Megan. He would accept nothing less.
‘The reason,’ she told him swiftly, ‘is that Charlotte doesn’t know you. And, to be quite honest, I don’t want her to get to know you. An absentee father is worse than not having one at all.’
‘What do you mean, absentee father?’ he asked sharply. ‘You were the one who walked out.’
‘Because I never saw you, dammit. What sort of a life was that? And I don’t want Charlotte suffering the same way.’
‘You belong with me,’ he growled fiercely. ‘Are you forgetting your wedding vows?’
‘Mummy, what’s the matter?’ Charlotte tugged at Megan’s dressing gown, forcing her to soften her face and look down at her worried daughter.
‘Nothing, sweetheart. I’m just not sure that I want to go and spend Christmas with your—father.’ It pained her to say the word.
‘I’d like to go,’ whispered her daughter, giving him a timid smile.
Luigi felt exultation. The battle was half won. All he needed now was Megan’s acceptance.
‘It looks as though you’re getting your wish,’ she finally managed to choke out. ‘You’ve always been the same, haven’t you, Luigi? Nothing ever stands in your way. How many million have you made?’
The question surprised him. ‘Enough to buy the whole Gerards Group,’ he admitted proudly.
‘What?’ she asked, her eyes narrowing, a deep, incredulous frown dragging her fine brows together. ‘I knew you had ambition but I never imagined that you’d do this well—so quickly.’ Gerards was a department store par excellence. ‘Where are you living these days?’
‘I have an apartment right here in the City where I spend most of the week, but my house is in Sussex.’
‘Did you know I lived here?’
She looked appalled at the very thought and his lips twisted bitterly. ‘Not at all. I was checking that everything was running smoothly when I overheard this little girl asking Santa Claus for a daddy. It was such an unusual request that I watched as she ran back to her mother. You can imagine my astonishment when I saw that it was you.’
‘And so you put your spies on the job and found out where I lived, is that it?’ she demanded, her grey eyes bright now with accusation.
‘Wouldn’t you have done the same if you’d found out that you had a three-year-old daughter whom you knew nothing about?’ he countered harshly. ‘I find it hard to believe that you’ve done this to me.’
Megan shrugged, as if she couldn’t care less what he thought.
‘I think,’ he said, ‘you’d better get dressed and start packing.’
‘Not on your life,’ she retorted. He thought she meant that she wasn’t going to come at all until she added, ‘There’s still a whole week before Christmas. And I have to work for a living. I don’t finish until Thursday.’
Beginning to fear that he was losing the battle, Luigi snapped his dark eyes and shot her a condemning glance. ‘You won’t need to work when you’re back with me. Give it up.’
She looked beautifully indignant. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I do not want my wife working, it’s as simple as that. And may I ask where you leave Charlotte while you’re doing whatever it is you do? I hope she’s safe.’
‘Of course she’s safe,’ snapped Megan. ‘We have a crèche; I can be with her at a second’s notice. And I have to work, otherwise how would I keep myself?’
‘You won’t need to; you’re going to live with me,’ he repeated impatiently. ‘It’s your rightful place.’ Now that he’d found out he had a daughter he most definitely wasn’t going to allow her to escape again.
Megan sucked in a harsh breath. ‘You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of your minions, Luigi; you’d best remember that. Charlotte and I will come to you on Friday, not a day before. And as soon as Christmas is over we’re back here.’
He decided not to make an issue of it in front of Charlotte, but he wasn’t happy with the situation and he intended to tell Megan so at the very first opportunity. ‘I’ll send a car for you,’ he announced stiffly.
Megan’s chin jerked. ‘There’s no need. Give me your address and we’ll make our own way.’ She held his gaze, her grey eyes, tinged with amethyst, were as cold and belligerent as his.
‘Don’t