1

Emma hung the last garland in her tree which looked like it had caught a bad cold. A few thorns fell at his feet before he even finished walking around. She looked at them wondering if her situation could get any worse. She flicked one of the balls of the tree and it swung cheerfully, then a second tuft of thorns fell to the ground.

"I'm sincerely sorry, Miss Brok"

The words of this doctor had been ringing in the corner of his ears for nearly a week. Emma massaged her temples to make them disappear before a new panic invaded her body already sore from this terrible news.

There are still a few weeks, she was dancing in the middle of her living room to burst her joy of this pregnancy that she had so dreamed of. Without knowing for a single second that this baby was the child of one of the most formidable men in Italy. The ruler of the most influential dynasty in the country....

Emma walked around her little living room shuffling. She stopped in front of her laptop to look for the umpteenth time at the photo of the man, from behind, hidden by two other men. In reality, this photo did not help him at all.

She let out a muffled gasp and resumed pacing. What should she do? What should she consider?

To shut up ?

After all, she was the only one who knew, and the doctor who had inseminated her was risking his place if he ever mentioned it. His fault was serious. He had even asked or even begged her not to say anything.

Emma crossed her arms and stared at her Christmas tree with her head tilted to the side. As if the latter had the solution to his problem.

This serious error had consequences on her and on this man who gave this sperm sample to be kept for the sole purpose of using it later or in the event of death. To ensure an heir and to continue the line of his family.

Emma felt nauseous and rushed into the bathroom.

She sat for a long time in front of the toilet bowl, weighing the pros and cons.

Two solutions imposed themselves on her.

The first: Tell this man the whole truth.

The second: To keep silent while praying to the sky that he would never use this sample that now rested in his belly and raise his baby forgetting this history.

She got up and held back at the sink to come and face her reflection. That of a young woman completely lost, no longer knowing which choice would be the right one...

And to be able to make the right choice, Emma had to meet this man.

And only then will she make her choice.

It was with a tender and protective gesture that she put her hands on her still flat stomach.

Her heart began to race, she tried to make a plan for tomorrow. Because to even try to see the man, you had to enter the property. A property that is surely secure on both sides from all possible angles.

Emma had to go through the portal at all costs....

The next day, when she finally found the famous Palazzo, Emma knew she would have no chance of passing through the large gate of the property perched on a hill. When she lowered the window of her car, she breathed a breath of fresh air, thanks to the sea which was nearby. She now wanted to flee the place. Run away from reality.

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, keeping her eyes glued to the large white gate in the hope that fate was on her side. Unfortunately, half an hour later, nothing happened. Emma rubbed her temples before starting the ignition and went down the forbidden alley to go around the property. Once on the other side,

Emma got out of her car, squeaking the door.

Despite the winter, the afternoon was laden with flowery scents, no snowflake suggested that the end of year celebrations were about to begin. She readjusted her coat and walked to the outer walls. She took on the appearance of a thief, hopping in the tall grass and approached the closed gate to peek into the small gap which gave her the possibility of distinguishing a beautiful green lawn.

"You are on private property!"

At this voice, Emma gave a start and turned to face the stranger who had just yelled at her. Her blood instantly froze when she found herself in front of a man who looked suspiciously like the man she was trying in vain to meet. Tall, dark, his elegant black suit could not hide his athletic build. When she managed to look up into his eyes, Emma was left speechless. On his face, she found features of a hard character. Hostile, virile, proud, icy, without the slightest heat. His thick black eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth twisted into a grimace conducive to a bomb waiting to explode. When he took a gruff step forward, the brilliant glare of the sun reflected on his coppery, typically Italian face.

No doubt, the father of her baby was in front of her.

At the cost of a miracle, she managed to pull herself together.

I know, I'm sorry...I got lost and I...

You, you often lose in forbidden alleys. he cut in a voice as sharp as a cleaver.

Emma swallowed.

No ... no of course not, I was curious and lost.

Her response reignited the man's anger. Emma cursed herself for saying that.

Journalist ? He deduces by seizing her by the arm.

She bit back a grimace and raised her head to face him.

Not at all finally!

His fingers clenched on his arm, causing a jolt of electricity to his elbow that crept into his surely crimson face.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked insidiously.

His voice was so hard and low it made her sick.

"I'm sorry I walked down your driveway...it's a...a horrible misunderstanding. She stammered, lowering her eyes.

Your name, immediately! The latter demanded, shaking her slightly.

Her vision had blurred, Emma felt beads of sweat talking on her forehead.

Emma Brok...

He tilted his broad head towards hers. She thought she was suffocating. Confused, she found the strength to raise her chin.

His piercing gaze expressed so much hostility that she parted her lips to inhale a breeze as he shamelessly eyed her.

There was nothing sweet or nice about him.

"I could have you arrested for walking down that alley. he declared in a sweet voice.

"But you won't, will you?" She asked with a pale face.

So he was the father of her child? Emma hated herself for having listened to her heart and having entered this property for the sole purpose of getting to know her. Now his choice was made...

She just had to find a way to escape.

I arrived in Tuscany a short time ago, I'm English, I wanted to take a little walk and I got lost.

Emma paused in which he remained just as insensitive and cold.

When I saw your Palazzo I was curious and just wanted to admire it, please forgive me sir...

He released his arm and straightened up.

Emma massaged her aching elbow, suppressing a grimace.

Leave quickly, before I change my mind! he said abruptly.

She walked away from this monster without looking back. She never would have thought that this devilishly attractive man would be so contemptuous and ruthless.

Emma jumped into her car, glancing furtively in her direction. When she saw him approaching her car with clenched fists, she drove off and squealed her tires on the gravel, slamming her foot on the accelerator.

She lost control of her car when she met his gaze in the side mirror.

Her heart began to beat rapidly, she left the forbidden alley and stopped at the stop sign to catch her breath.

"Lord! she whispered in a strangled voice.

To her dismay, she had no time to recover from this horrifying encounter, as a ferocious engine began to roar behind her car. A black Lamborghini was right behind her. Emma changed her turn signal and took the left lane. A flush of heat rose to his cheeks as the Lamborghini headed in the same direction.

"Keep calm, Emma..." she ordered herself, taking care to return to the main road.

He followed her for the sole purpose of making sure she was not a journalist, and Emma had to go at all costs to a neutral place and not to her home.

There was no way this caveman knew where she lived.

For her safety and that of her baby.

As her black car snuck up on her, Emma kept a reasonable pace so as not to give her another reason to have more suspicions.

If she ever accelerated, if ever the situation took on the appearance of a chase, she was definitely finished.

Thank heaven a place was freed up at the last minute. Emma put on her turn signal at the last moment to park on the right, forcing the man to brake.

She inhaled painfully, grabbing her bag and her book, it was absolutely necessary to pretend not to know that it was him. She got out of the car with a gait that was meant to be relaxed. The black Lamborghini was still in the middle of the road, blocking all traffic, yet no one seemed to dare to honk their horn. Emma crossed the road to go to the nearby restaurant. She took a seat on the terrace and tried to smile at the waiter.

An orange juice please ... please.

At the same time, the noise of the lush Lamborghini was heard, the acceleration was so brutal that the engine had reasoned in the narrow street full of beautiful purple flowers.

Emma closed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

She felt her heart resonate in her temples, beads of sweat beading on her forehead as if she had just run a marathon. She felt like a deer cornered by a hunter.

Emma held back a tear. Now she knew which of the two solutions she would choose.

She would take the second...

Five weeks later:

Again !

Emma applied the foundation by patting it on the model's face.

More !

She patted her face faster, trying to hide her tired features from the night before. She was hungover. The madness of her boozy evening was displayed on her tanned complexion.

"Would you like a glass of water?" she offered politely.

What I want is that you hide my dark circles, kind of sluggish! Give me that!

She had snatched the powder from his hands to apply it herself.

Emma swallowed a trail of swear words and picked up the hair straightener.

It shows that you are an intern! Look at this!

The model was on the verge of a panic attack, but Emma preferred to ignore her haughty tone and silently took care of her hair. She let the heat of the straightener absorb her body. On first touch, Emma found the texture of her hair to be rough and very damaged.

Do I make loops? She asked looking at her reflection in the mirror.

She groaned hoarsely to express her annoyance.

Good blood, but who stuck me such a gourd! Of course you buckle them!

Emma busied herself making her curls, she wanted to burn her hair...but ordered herself to resume a professional attitude. When she had accepted to do this internship Emma had not expected that the insemination would work so quickly. Now her belly had grown, fifteen weeks had passed and she realized that she was really pregnant. A smile appeared on her closed lips, the smile of a fulfilled young woman. Her dream took on a little more shape in her every day, and nothing that happened around her could take that happiness away from her.

Go ! Go ! All in your places!

The sharp voice of the photographer tore him from his delicious torpor. Emma completed the last loop before the lead actress of this shoot got up from her feet.

Damn Sharon, you're as surrounded as my grandfather! asked the photographer, following her with his gaze as she passed in front of him.

Emma stifled a laugh as she cleared her throat and turned around so her smile wasn't noticeable.

Azzario exhaled a sigh as the elevator doors swung open for him, and before they even opened fully, he strode through them with a brisk, determined step. He hated this kind of place, the smell of perfume and beauty products was almost unbearable to him. To hide his annoyance, Azzario remained impassive and walked more slowly towards the deafening music.

Azzario was coming out of a long and trying depression that had lasted an entire year, which had very nearly led to suicide. He had managed to tear himself away from it only by concentrating on his work, on his family's dynasty. During the long months which had followed this depression, Azzario had erected a rampart which isolated him from his own emotions. He was aware of being sometimes inhuman...

He opened the door and slipped aside, his hands in his pockets. The photo shoot seemed to go on forever much to her dismay. He restrained himself from interrupting her and observed Sharon with a wise eye. At that moment, he wondered why he had taken her as his mistress. Probably to make up for the boredom in bed he'd felt for months, only now he realized he'd been too quick. Even if it was a short idyll, he wasn't ready... any more ready to bring a woman into his life, into his intimacy. Even while playing the indifference, Azzario saw in this woman the uprising of too painful memories. She was like all the others, sly, haughty, sure of herself, born into worldliness and he unfortunately had to deal with it every day.

To hide his annoyance, Azzario turned his head away and briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Azzario stopped on a frail figure in the distance. He squinted and his blood began to flow faster in his veins...no doubt, Azzario had in front of him the little English girl who a few weeks ago had entered his property. He would have recognized him among a thousand! Her diaphanous complexion did not go unnoticed, her slender figure and her blue eyes were impossible to avoid. His black hair was loose this time, his face was freed by a butterfly comb, the ripple of his hair cascading down his chest revealing some red highlights.

He would never have thought to see this young woman again...

But seeing her here takes away any suspicion he had had about her. Indeed, she had nothing to do with the profile of a journalist. His blue eyes reflected panic like a doe caught in the clutches of a hunter, yet they seemed full of life.

When she turned completely towards him without seeing him, Azzario straightened instantly when he saw a small detail on her that was impossible to avoid. Her belly was slightly rounded, molded by a simple tank top.

Immediately, he felt guilty as his bad memories washed over him like a raging sea. Was she already pregnant when he brutalized her? Azzario clenched his jaw and took a step forward to get a better look at his stomach. He was almost feeling tender for this stranger. He had to pull himself together immediately!

"Who disconnected the cable!"

The photographer's voice cut short his thoughts. He took his eyes off the young woman to cast a quick glance at the young man.

"Find me that cable!"

Azzario turned his attention to the young Englishwoman. She had disappeared. He took his hands out of his pockets and began to scan the studio. Such was the amazement when he saw her crawling on all fours in his direction, following the electric cables with her eyes.

"Dios mio!" he whispered in a deep voice.

No one seemed to care about her, and what she was doing.

Pregnant.

Azzario decided to put an end to this inconceivable moment in his eyes and put his foot on the cable. When she found herself in front of him, blocked by her foot, she tried to pull the cable without raising her head.

Could you remove your foot sir?

His voice didn't rise above a whisper.

Azzario didn't move until she finally looked up.

His big blue eyes widened and he found a certain satisfaction.

Her white skin turned red erasing her little freckles.

How we meet again...