Page 107 of A Diamond Deal
‘What else did you find out about me?’
His eyes moved with cold determination. ‘Everything.’
She closed her own eyes on that, trying to blot him out.
‘I know that you’re twenty-three years old and drowning in debt, that you lost your father six months ago.’
She blinked back tears.
‘Well, you’ve certainly done your research,’ she said, voice uneven. She made her way around the counter, towards the front door. ‘And now, we’re closing. Please don’t worry about paying for your coffee. You need to leave.’
He stood, but, instead of walking towards the door, placed his elbow on the counter, regarding her with a look of indolent interest. ‘Would you like to know why I’m here, first?’
Curiosity sparked inside her, but she shook her head. ‘I stopped thinking of myself as Italian the day my mother left. Whatever you’ve come to say, if it has anything to do with her side of the family, I’m not interested.’
‘Even when your grandparents are no different from you?’
She stared back at him.
‘They were hurt by her, too. You are not the only person she abandoned.’
Amelia closed her eyes against that, a wave of pain washing her from the inside out. ‘Please leave.’
‘Not until you’ve heard what I came to say.’
She wanted to argue, but the shock of his arrival, of the things he was bringing up, made her feel weak and light-headed, so she let go of the door and stood there.
Now he moved, stalking towards her and turning the lock, so that they wouldn’t be interrupted. She was in too much of a state of shock to argue, or to feel anything like fear.
‘You and I have something in common, Amelia,’ he said, so close his words whispered across her cheek. She blinked up at him, jolted once more by the perfection of his features. ‘We both know what it is like to be abandoned by a parent.’
She frowned.
‘My father, when I was nineteen,’ he said. ‘But first, he scammed every single person we know, stealing hundreds of millions of euros, stashing it offshore, and then, when his criminality was exposed, disappearing without a trace.’
She could only stare up at him.
‘My grandfather and I were left to clean up the mess. We were interviewed over and over by the police, who could not believe my father had acted alone. All across Europe, our name—once one of the oldest and most respected—became mud. We were treated with disdain by all we’d once considered friends. In one selfish act, my father destroyed a legacy that had been generations in the making.’
Amelia’s curiosity was naturally stirred, and, in truth, she was glad to have something to focus on besides her own family.
‘I do not care for legacy, and I would gladly have nothing to do with those two-faced bastards.’
She lifted her brows.
‘But my grandfather does care. My grandfather wants, more than anything, to see our family name restored. To be respected once again.’
‘You are Massimiliano Moretti,’ she pointed out, managing his name with more aplomb the second time around. ‘You’re worth a gazillion dollars. Surely that buys you respect.’
‘Not with these people—they are proud, they are mad, and they are ice cold. Doors remain shut. My grandfather feels that pain daily.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, genuinely. ‘But I don’t see how I can help.’
‘Don’t you?’ he murmured, eyes tracing her features, as though he was looking for something. ‘You are a Rossi. Even from outside, I could tell, just from how you hold yourself. You have your father’s complexion, but everything else about you is your mother’s.’
She closed her eyes on a wave of fresh hurt. She knew that was true, but, oh, how often she wished it not to be the case. If there had been a way to carefully, surgically remove every single fibre of her mother’s DNA from her body, then she would have.
‘Did you come here just to insult me?’ she asked, voice trembling.
