CHAPTER SIX

Aria did not sleep.

She lays in the master bed that filled the guestroom of Adrian Morelli's penthouse, staring at the ceiling while counting shadows made by city lights shining through floor to ceiling windows. Darkness never completely descended upon New York. Even when the clock struck three in the morning, the skyline throbbed and glittered as if oblivious to how one whole life can die between lunch and dinner.

She laid her palm flat on of her belly.

She was pregnant with a child. A baby that wasn't her ex-husband's, the man she'd dedicated four years of her life to. Inside her? A baby..which, according to the stone-faced billionaire napping in a far corner of this sprawling apartment like an evil dragon on top of its gold, had been put there by mistake, as casually as a misplaced memo.

She almost laughed. Have she not been so tired, and nearly heartbroken?

The contract sat upon the nightstand she left it on. Twelve pages. Embossed letterhead. A total at the very bottom that had nearly made her inhale: 5 million dollars, upon finalization of an amicable divorce within three years. The child would stay with Adrian. She would walk away solvent and free.

Free. The word tasted like ash.

She came and sat up, she took the paper, over again blue half-dark of it. The seventh clause read that all public appearances should represent a believable loving romantic bond. Clause eleven stated that she had no claim to Morelli assets beyond the agreed amount. Clause fifteen,the one which hurt her chest deep inside  said that on dissolution of the marriage, the child (referred to at all times as 'the heir') would be handed over to the prong custody of Adrian Morelli.

Her child. The one piece of life in the world that was, wholly, biologically hers even though it had happened by accident.

She set the contract down.

She remembered the expression on her stepmother's face that afternoon, that slowly growing, satisfied smile as Jeffery stood in front of her saying: You have to get it out. With one hand wrapped around her own belly as if to protect it, she had been staring with wide bright eyes at Valerie. She reflected on the fact that not one person in that room had ever looked at her like she mattered.

She picked up the pen.

She signed.

….

The day began with a pallid, milky light and a low drone of Manhattan stirring from slumber. Aria took a shower, put on a light cream-coloured blouse and a pair of black pants; the most sophisticated clothing she had owned since she'd been kicked out of whatever life she had believed to have built, and made her way into the kitchen. It was huge․ All white marble‚ and brushed steel‚ and there was a chef's island the size of a small boat․ At one of the renovated stoves‚ a little woman sat․ She must have been in her sixties․ Her silver-streaked hair was wound up in a neat bun․ She turned when Aria came in and slowly smiled․

"You must be the young lady‚" she said․ "I am Marianna․ I look after Mr․ Morelli's household․" She gestured to a stool drawn up to the island․ "Sit․ I made eggs․"

Her legs were killing her‚ but it was the smell of butter and herbs that was the first thing in the last twenty-four hours to make her feel completely at home․ "Thank you‚" she said․

On the plate before her were scrambled eggs with fresh chives‚ sliced sourdough‚ and a small bowl of fruit‚ and Marianna studied her with the frank assessment of a woman who had seen too much to bother with pretense․

"He told me you were staying‚" Marianna said‚ refilling a coffee cup she had apparently already prepared for herself․ "He did not tell me much else‚ but he never does․"

Aria picked at her food․ The eggs she'd cooked were especially good․ "How long have you worked for him?"

"Fourteen years․" Marianna settled on her side of the island with her mug of coffee․ "Since before his parents handed the apartment over to him․ He was eighteen․ Convinced he did not need anyone․ "He still thinks that․"

Aria glanced up․

Marianna smiled‚ small and knowing․ "Don't tell him I said so”

It was, Aria would think later, the first real smile that she had remotely managed in the past few days. She was still sitting when Adrian came in. He wore a charcoal suit that fit him like architecture fits a skyline accurately, unavoidably and he stopped when he saw her sitting at the island. Something flashed across his face so brief that she could not read it. "You signed, " he stated. It was not a question. He must have already checked the nightstand. "I signed, " she said. He made a coffee for himself with the economical precision of a man who did every action exactly as necessary and no more. He didn't look at her when he was saying, "My parents have invited us for dinner tonight. You will have to be very convincing." "I can lie really well when I have to, " she said with a smile. That really made him look at her. His eyes a dark grey, the colour of storm clouds scanned her face with a feeling that was not really surprise but it was close to it. "Well, " he said. And then with the coffee in his hand, he was gone into the architectural silence of his life. Marianna followed him with her eyes and then she looked at Aria gave a look that was a mix of sympathy and amusement at the same time. "Don't mind him, " she said. "He probably doesn't understand what it means to be with warmth. That tends to throw him off." Aria lowered her eyes to the plate. "I am familiar with those people, " she murmured. In fact, she had married one. The difference was that Jeffery had only been acting. Adrian Morelli, on the other hand, she was realizing, didn't even make an effort. There was something almost truthful about that. She didn't quite know yet if it was a good thing or a bad one.