Postcards From… Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
ambushed his wife and child. He had been on public land and therefore within his rights. The fact that a billionaire had assaulted him and damaged the property of one of the ‘little guys’ was far more interesting than a case of child protection. The case would go to court, and the directors at Fournier had already called for an emergency meeting with the board.
They were going to jump ship, and there was nothing Rigo could do to stop his entire world from unravelling.
If only Nicole had trusted him enough—maybe together they could have swayed the public in their favour. But instead she had chosen to stay hidden away.
‘Rigo, are you even listening to this?’ The senior director of his legal department was looking at him expectantly, along with the rest of the room.
He sat up, suddenly very tired of the whole situation. All these people had been working tirelessly for him, likely neglecting their loved ones in the process, and all for what? These past five years had been devoted to growing his family company into the biggest fashion corporation in Europe. He had absorbed countless smaller companies, and with each one he had felt that same rush as when he’d first pursued Fournier. Now, with the deal set to crash and burn spectacularly, he felt nothing but emptiness.
The realisation than he no longer cared was so unsettling that he stood up and left the meeting without a single explanation, ignoring the shouts of concern as he shut the door behind him and ordered the car to take him home.
The drive through the busy streets of Paris passed in a blur. His mind was foggy and he felt subdued—likely to do with the fact that he hadn’t slept or eaten properly in the days since he’d returned to Paris.
As the car pulled up to the kerb he noted the gangs of photographers still camped outside his apartment building. The abuse he had endured from their angry mouths for the past three days had opened his eyes to the kind of life Nicole must have lived. As Rigo Marchesi, golden boy CEO, he had never known anything but professionalism from the press. But now, branded a paparazzi attacker, he was subject to threats, taunts and worse from these men and women who hounded him day and night.
It was an eye-opening experience.
He entered his apartment, immediately noticing the vibrant blue fedora that lay on the kitchen counter. His father sat on the sofa, nursing a brandy, and looked up as Rigo walked into the living area.
‘I came straight here as soon as I saw the news.’ He stood up, pouring a second glass and handing it to his son with a half-smile.
‘Aren’t you meant to be in the rainforest somewhere right now?’ Rigo raised a brow. ‘Or did Uncle Mario send for you the minute he realised how badly I’d messed up?’
‘Mario did call.’ Amerigo nodded, looking down at his glass. ‘But I’m here for my son—not for the CEO of the Marchesi Group.’ He sat back, eyeing Rigo intently. ‘Before this wedding, when was the last time you took a break, huh?’ he rasped.
‘I’ve got bigger things to worry about than that right now.’
‘Another vital acquisition, I heard?’ The older man shook his head. ‘I admire everything that you have accomplished, Rigo. You have brought our family business to levels I never dreamed of achieving myself. But when is it going to be enough?’
Rigo looked at his father blankly. ‘If everyone stopped after a certain level of success the world would grind to a halt. I believe in constant progress.’
‘Progressing? Is that what you think you’re doing? Because from here it just looks as if you’re running on the spot.’
‘Papà, I’m under a lot of pressure right now and I don’t appreciate your taunts,’ he gritted.
‘You need to be taunted every now and then. You’re so bloody stubborn—just like your mother...’ he mused. ‘Ever since that damn girl took you for a ride you’ve been like this. Running and running from the pain.’
‘I have been getting on with my life. Why is that so hard to believe?’
‘Because it’s absolute crap.’ His father sighed. ‘And once you realise that maybe you will finally get over yourself and see that it is more important to leave this mess to fizzle out and go and enjoy the rest of your honeymoon. The company will survive the loss of Fournier.’
‘It’s not that simple.’ He took a long swallow of the amber liquid and felt it scorch his throat. ‘If I lose this deal the board will react. They have already expressed their anger.’
‘Son, if I could impart to you one life lesson, it’s this. Don’t waste valuable time on what the board or anyone else thinks you should do. Live your life.’
His father’s words echoed in his mind long after he had left him alone with his thoughts. He had told Nicole not to let the media dictate her life, but here he was, doing the very same thing. He had told her to trust him, that he would protect her from her fears. And yet the moment things got tough he had asked her to throw herself under a bus for his company.
He had treated her no better than her mother had for all those years and the realisation made him suddenly nauseous.
* * *
As the town car rolled slowly along the streets of Paris, Nicole wondered for the millionth time if she was doing the right thing. Once she had heard that the court case was today she’d known she couldn’t stay away any longer. She had to try to do something.
She stepped out of the car and looked up at the steps of the courthouse, seeing Rigo standing near the top, finishing up his statement to the press. He stood alone as the cameras turned away to move towards the prosecution group, who had just emerged from the building.
She felt her stomach tighten as Rigo turned and saw her. She suddenly felt a lot less brave. His face tightened with surprise and he powered down the steps towards her, his eyes darting towards the cameramen, who hadn’t yet seen her.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked harshly. ‘Get back into the car now—before they see you.’
‘I’m here to give my statement,’ Nicole said. ‘I’m here to stand by your side.’
‘It’s all over.’ Rigo exhaled harshly. ‘I paid them off and the case has been thrown out. If you had told me you were going to come I would have told you to stay exactly where you were.’
‘In my prison?’ she asked quietly.
‘I was angry at myself when I said those words.’
He took her hand, looking down at her with such fierce sincerity she thought her heart might break.
‘No, you were right, Rigo. I can’t live my life running away and hiding from these people or my voice will never be heard. I can’t teach my daughter to be fearful.’
‘When I said those words all I was thinking of was myself. I’ve been living under a microscope for days now and it’s already driven me halfway to madness. But it was my actions that got us into this mess and I will face it alone.’
‘I’m not just here for you, Rigo. I’m here for me, too. To prove to myself that I’m strong enough to protect my daughter.’
‘You are strong enough, Nicole. You are the strongest woman I have ever known.’
A cameraman turned, catching sight of the candid discussion he was missing out on, and soon the whole press camp was descending upon them.
‘Last chance,’ Rigo warned, his fingers holding in a tight grip on her arm, as though he wanted to haul her away from the crowd.
She looked up at him, her eyes gravely serious. ‘No more running.’
The crowd of cameras and microphones surrounded them with an excited hum.
One ‘respectable’ news journalist took an immediate jab. ‘Nicole, what have you to say on the allegations that your marriage is a complete sham?’
Nicole