Read Online The Italian Billionaire's Disgraced Fiancée by Betsy Swann - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Betsy Swann
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blame Enzo for being unreasonably demanding or difficult. He had to assume that she knew everything that was needed to write that report. After all she had been the managing director’s PA for some time now - only that in truth this was her first day at the office, and that it had taken her half an hour just to find the relevant files for her research in Luca’s office.
After enjoying some crispy baguette and a mozzarella and tomato salad on the terrace, she had a hot shower, dried and brushed her hair until it fell down to her waist like a cascading mass of silver and changed into her cream coloured silk pyjamas. Holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate she settled on one of the comfy white sofas in the living room and suddenly felt utterly alone. Enzo’s cold behaviour and his insulting words had left her more vulnerable than she wanted to admit to herself at the time, and thankfully she had been too busy afterwards to ponder on it. But at this very moment, with nothing else to distract her from the memories but the hot chocolate, she wished her parents were here to comfort her and take her into their arms.
Slowly she pulled out the secret drawer in her antique walnut coffee table. The two letters inside were her greatest treasure, and they always made her cry. Who would have thought that both her parents would only find the strength to tell her the truth from beyond the grave, never during their life time, just like they had never talked to each other to sort out their problems? How could two fully grown adults possibly behave in such a way, making each other – and their children – utterly miserable due to their stubbornness? No matter how much Izzy tried to understand, this would always stay a mystery. Her parents had been madly in love, but already at the first hurdle they had fallen because they hadn’t trusted each other.
Just like Enzo had not trusted her.
She carefully unfolded the first letter, the one her mother’s lawyers had sent her upon her 21 st birthday together with the notification about the huge inheritance she was able to access from this day forward. Utterly bewildered Izzy had read her mother’s account of her relationship with Luke Jones, Izzy’s father. How they had met, she the rich hotel heiress, he the poor artist, and how they had fallen deeply in love. How her family had warned her that Luke was just after her money, and that she hadn’t believed a word of it until all her dreams came crushing down when he unexpectedly asked for a large sum of cash. At that very moment her mother’s heart had broken. Her family had been right after all, she had known. Luke had wanted her for her money. And so she had run and got engaged to Bill Hetherington, the rich and handsome owner of a chain of luxury hotels. The man her family had chosen for her. Just days after the engagement it became clear that she was pregnant with twins, Luke’s babies, but Hetherington married her anyway.
Even now, reading the letter for the thousandth time, Izzy felt tears stream down her face when she got to the part where her mother had appeared on Luke’s doorstep with their two baby girls in her arms, leaving fifteen minutes later with just one baby. It was unbelievable. They hadn’t even discussed that terrible misunderstanding that hovered above their heads. During all this heartache her parents had never spoken again and the following year, when her mother had Nick, Hetherington’s son, she died in childbirth, and it was too late.
Izzy put her mother’s letter back into the drawer and took out the one she had found in her father’s writing desk after his death, her own name written neatly on the envelope in his bold, artistic handwriting she knew so well.
Please forgive me for sending this letter , her father had written, but how could I possibly tell it to your face that your mother and I tossed a coin about who got which baby?
He went on to explain how Clarissa, the love of his life, had left him
After enjoying some crispy baguette and a mozzarella and tomato salad on the terrace, she had a hot shower, dried and brushed her hair until it fell down to her waist like a cascading mass of silver and changed into her cream coloured silk pyjamas. Holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate she settled on one of the comfy white sofas in the living room and suddenly felt utterly alone. Enzo’s cold behaviour and his insulting words had left her more vulnerable than she wanted to admit to herself at the time, and thankfully she had been too busy afterwards to ponder on it. But at this very moment, with nothing else to distract her from the memories but the hot chocolate, she wished her parents were here to comfort her and take her into their arms.
Slowly she pulled out the secret drawer in her antique walnut coffee table. The two letters inside were her greatest treasure, and they always made her cry. Who would have thought that both her parents would only find the strength to tell her the truth from beyond the grave, never during their life time, just like they had never talked to each other to sort out their problems? How could two fully grown adults possibly behave in such a way, making each other – and their children – utterly miserable due to their stubbornness? No matter how much Izzy tried to understand, this would always stay a mystery. Her parents had been madly in love, but already at the first hurdle they had fallen because they hadn’t trusted each other.
Just like Enzo had not trusted her.
She carefully unfolded the first letter, the one her mother’s lawyers had sent her upon her 21 st birthday together with the notification about the huge inheritance she was able to access from this day forward. Utterly bewildered Izzy had read her mother’s account of her relationship with Luke Jones, Izzy’s father. How they had met, she the rich hotel heiress, he the poor artist, and how they had fallen deeply in love. How her family had warned her that Luke was just after her money, and that she hadn’t believed a word of it until all her dreams came crushing down when he unexpectedly asked for a large sum of cash. At that very moment her mother’s heart had broken. Her family had been right after all, she had known. Luke had wanted her for her money. And so she had run and got engaged to Bill Hetherington, the rich and handsome owner of a chain of luxury hotels. The man her family had chosen for her. Just days after the engagement it became clear that she was pregnant with twins, Luke’s babies, but Hetherington married her anyway.
Even now, reading the letter for the thousandth time, Izzy felt tears stream down her face when she got to the part where her mother had appeared on Luke’s doorstep with their two baby girls in her arms, leaving fifteen minutes later with just one baby. It was unbelievable. They hadn’t even discussed that terrible misunderstanding that hovered above their heads. During all this heartache her parents had never spoken again and the following year, when her mother had Nick, Hetherington’s son, she died in childbirth, and it was too late.
Izzy put her mother’s letter back into the drawer and took out the one she had found in her father’s writing desk after his death, her own name written neatly on the envelope in his bold, artistic handwriting she knew so well.
Please forgive me for sending this letter , her father had written, but how could I possibly tell it to your face that your mother and I tossed a coin about who got which baby?
He went on to explain how Clarissa, the love of his life, had left him
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