The Bonus -
Chapter 19
The sound of Dom’s regulated breathing sounds through his bedroom like a drone. The sun is just peeking through the curtains, and I don’t think I slept a wink all night.
How can I be married to someone else while knowing that I still have feelings for you.
I exhale heavily. I don’t need this drama in my life, and after freaking out all night, I have made a decision. I’m not thinking about it again.
I slowly climb out of bed, put my robe on and go to the bathroom. I catch sight of myself in the mirror and cringe, oh hell…I look like crap. I wash my face, tie my hair up into a bun and make my way downstairs.
“Good morning,” I hear his deep voice purr.
Glancing up, I see Gabriel standing at my coffee machine, he’s freshly showered and wearing navy suit pants, his white shirt is open and his tanned broad chest and torso are on display.
I am instantly reminded of our mornings back in his office.
“Coffee?” He raises his eyebrow in question.
“What are you doing?” I pull the cords of my robe tighter, suddenly feeling very exposed.
“What does it look like?” He holds his coffee cup up.
“It looks like you are being a poser, that’s what.”
He gives me a slow sexy smile as he sips his coffee. “I should ask what are you doing.”
“What do you mean, what am I doing?”
“Why are you wearing that hideous dressing gown?”
My mouth falls open as I look down at myself. “This is a beautiful dressing gown,” I gasp.
“If you’re ninety.”
“Listen . . .”
“We need to talk.” He cuts me off.
“You’re damn right we do,” I whisper.
“I have to go back to New York, but I’ll be back on the weekend.” He sips his coffee casually. “We can tell the children then.”
“Tell them?”
“I’ve made the decision and I am staying in their lives; you can’t ask me not to. I am their father, Grace; I want them to know. My new life with them needs to start, and I’m not putting this off any longer.”
My heart sinks and I know he’s right, I can’t fight this anymore, the writing is already on the wall. I nod in resignation.
“I move into my new place on Saturday,” he continues.
“Your new place?” I frown.
“I’ve rented a property in town.”
“Here?”
“There was nothing suitable to buy at the moment, but I’m on the lookout.”
I feel faint.
“You’re actually…moving here?”
“I’ll be splitting my time evenly between here and New York. I’m setting up a second office here and can do everything else by Zoom.”
What the hell?
“I have an opening for a PA if you’re interested in the position.” He winks.
“I’m good.”
“I hear the Christmas bonuses are worth it.” He smirks.
“Hard pass.” I snatch my coffee cup from him. “When are you going back?”
“This morning.” His eyes hold mine. “Just waiting for them to wake up so I can see them before I leave.”
I sip my coffee, unsure what to say next.
“What are you doing today?” he asks.
I shrug. “I have the week off.”
“Oh.” He thinks for a moment. “I would ask you all to come to New York with me, but…”
But what?
“I’m in the middle of a situation in New York and now is not a good time.”
His mother.
“I wouldn’t go anyway. Did you think about what I said last night?” I ask him.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve already made my decision.”
“It’s not too late, Gabriel. You can still have it all.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that I want you to be happy, you can still be a father, see your children and marry Ariana.”
“That’s not the all I want, Grace.” His eyes hold mine.
“Gabriel… It’s not going to happen between us.”
“Not now.”
“Not ever.” I glance down to see the ripples on his stomach, and then, remembering where I am, I snap my eyes back up to his.
A trace of a smile crosses his face.
“What?”
“Do you like what you see?”
“Nope.” I pull my gown closed tighter. “Hideous.”
“Ah…” He sips his coffee. “You told me I was hideous once before.”
“I did?” I frown.
“Yes, right before you told me you fucked my computer mouse.”
Oh hell…I’ll never live that down.
“Yes, well…” I feel my face flush with embarrassment, “…my stationery intercourse days are well and truly over.”
“Shame.”
“Or not.” I need to change the subject. “Why do you have someone watching me?”
“Because I want you safe.”
“I am safe.”
“If the press get a hold of this info about you and the children, you will have reporters camping out the front, this is for your protection, not mine.”
I don’t want him knowing everything I do. “No.”
“It’s nonnegotiable, Grace, and not up for discussion.” His eyes hold mine in a silent dare.
I may be seeing this slightly new and improved version of Gabriel Ferrara for the first time, but his strongest instinct is still to fight. I don’t have the energy for more dramatics today, I’m going to let it go for now.
“Go upstairs and wake the kids, they need to get up now anyway,” I tell him.
“Okay.”
“I’m going to make some breakfast. Do you want some?”
“Ah…” His eyes flick to the kitchen as he hesitates. “Ah…”
He’s scared to eat my cooking, I roll my lips to hide my smile. “I’ll make you something special.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It would be nice for you to eat breakfast with the kids, go wake them up.”
He disappears up the stairs and I open the fridge and peer in.
Now, what’s the worst breakfast I can possibly make?
Gabriel
I make my way up the stairs and down the hallway. I catch sight of Lucia sitting up in bed, her hair is all messed and she’s in a cute pink nightdress and reading a book.
What child reads a book when they first wake up? She’s a literal genius.
“You’re such a good girl, no wonder that your mother is so proud of you.”
She smiles sweetly over at me and I feel my heart melt. “I bet you were the cutest little baby.” I sit down beside her on the edge of the bed.
“I was,” she agrees.
I smile at her innocence. “I wish I knew you then.”
She nods as she thinks. “Me too.”
“Do you have any photos of you when you were a baby?”
“Mom does.” She nods. “There are even some when we are still in her belly.”
“Really?”
Pregnant Grace.
“Can I see them?” I ask.
“Okay.” She smiles, all excited, she takes off and I follow her down the hallway into Grace’s bedroom. She bends down and looks under the bed.
“What are you doing?” I frown.
“They’re under here.” She slides a chest out from under the bed.
“Oh.”
She opens the lid and smiles proudly. “These are all our photos.”
I stare at the box in awe, a transportation to the past, to all I’ve missed. “Thanks, Lucia, this is perfect.”
“Mom keeps everything special under her bed.”
“Does she?”
Hmm…
“Well, this is great. Thank you.” I push the hair back from her forehead as I stare down at her. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more perfect child, not that I’ve ever looked closely at any, I guess. “Is your brother awake yet?”
“Don’t know. Where’s Mom?”
“Downstairs.”
“I’m going to go see her.”
“Okay.”
She toddles off and I wait until she has gone down the stairs and I quietly close the door.
Let’s see what other special things Mom keeps under her bed.
I kneel down and peer under, there are a few boxes and I slowly slide them out.
Photographs mainly.
Hmm, right at the very end is another box that looks identical to the one with the baby pictures. I wonder what’s in there. I slide everything out of the way and nearly have to half crawl under the bed to retrieve it.
It’s dusty and looks like it hasn’t been opened in a long time.
I glance back up at the door. If Grace comes in now, I’m dead. I slowly open the box and frown, it’s full of notes and trinkets and random things. I pick up a coaster and turn it over.
Peter’s New York
Hmm, that’s the bar we used to go to, haven’t been there for years, actually.
Why would she have kept this, weird.
I keep digging through the box and pull out a napkin, a note is scribbled on it.
It’s not possible to miss someone this much.
Gabriel…where are you?
My stomach twists.
I read it again.
It’s not possible to miss someone this much.
Gabriel…where are you?
When did she write this? I turn it over to try to replace a date.
She missed me?
But she told me last night that we were just a cheap fuck on a desk…she lied.
A little knock sounds at the door. “Gabriel?”
Damn it, Lucia has impeccable timing. “Just a minute,” I call.
I slide everything back under the bed and quickly stuff the box I’m holding into my overnight bag and put my clothes on top of it. I’m taking this box home; I need to study that napkin. I’ll sneak it back in later.
I open the door and see Lucia standing there, waiting patiently for me. “Yes?”
“Breakfast is ready.” She smiles up at me.
“Great.” I glance up to see Dominic come out of his room. “Good morning, Dominic,” I call.
“Hi,” he grumbles as he walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.
Hmm, we need to work on this, damn kid hates me.
“Let’s go see Mom.” I take Lucia’s hand and walk down the hall with a spring in my step.
She wrote about me on a napkin…and she kept it.
Things are looking up.
“Everything all right?” Mark’s eyes flick up to meet mine in the rearview mirror as we drive to the airport. “You’re very quiet.”
I run my tongue over my teeth. “What are the ingredients in scrambled eggs?”
“Eggs.” He frowns. “Milk, maybe cheese.” His eyes meet mine again. “Why do you ask?”
“I just ate scrambled eggs that tasted like fish and were laced with eggshells.” I wipe my mouth with a tissue as my stomach rolls.
“Really?”
“You have no idea how bad her cooking is.” I wipe my mouth again to try to get rid of this vile taste in my mouth.
He smiles to himself in the front seat.
“Not in the least bit funny.”
“Actually, it is.”
“Yeah well…” I turn my attention out the window. “If I die, tell the police who poisoned me.”
“Sure thing.”
“I’ll be moving out here on the weekend.”
“Permanently?”
“Thursday through to Monday morning each week.”
“Oh.” He continues to drive.
“You have your own house on the property I’ve rented. Although I understand if you don’t want to be here. You can stay in New York, I mean…let’s face it, this place is a fucking dump.”
“I’ll come.” His eyes flick up to meet mine. “I kind of like it here.” He turns the corner into the airport. “And besides, I go where you go, remember?”
I give him a lopsided smile and nod in a silent thank you.
Mark is the only person who goes wherever I go, whenever that is.
At a time in my life where everything is unknown, his steadfast presence is a calming force.
“How did it go last night, with Grace I mean?” he asks.
“Well…” I run my hand over my stubble as I think. “She told me she hates me.”
“Okay.” He drives as he listens. “And the kids?”
“We tell them who I am on the weekend.”
“How does it feel to have two children?”
I twist my lips. “Terrifying.”
“So…what’s on today, boss?” He smiles as we pull up at the airport.
“First stop. My mother.”
The plane touches down onto the tarmac and I immediately dial Frank’s number.
“Hello, Mr. Ferrara.”
“Where is my mother?”
“She’s at a charity lunch for the Ferrara Institute at Town Hall.”
I clench my jaw, annoyed. “What time does that finish?”
“It goes well into the evening, sir.”
Fuck’s sake.
“Fine, call me tomorrow when she’s up and about.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hang up and glare out the window as I imagine how tomorrow is going to go.
Twenty million dollars is all my happiness is worth.
The city lights twinkle over New York. I pour myself a glass of scotch and place it on my desk beside the box that I got from beneath Grace’s bed. I’ve been anxiously waiting all day to get to this box, what did she mean when she wrote on that napkin?
I take the lid off the box, sit down and slowly begin to sift through it, there’s photos and note cards, a weird combination of things that don’t really go together but they all seem to be from around the time that Grace was pregnant.
I pick up a piece of paper that has been ripped out of a book.
The Lord knew that I would miss him so much that one baby couldn’t fill the hole that he left
So he gave me two.
For a long time I stare at her handwriting and I don’t know what the hell kind of box this is, but it’s fucking depressing.
With a big sip of scotch, I dig a little deeper and replace a diary, the cover is creased as if it has been taken everywhere. I open it up and read the entry.
I went to New York to tell him about our baby.
He refused to see me and I’ve never been so humiliated in all of my life.
Or heartbroken.
I can’t see this page for the tears, I don’t know if I can do this alone.
He’s given me no choice.
Alone I am.
I close my eyes in regret.
My heart twists as I think back to that day, if only I had handled things differently. If only I had gone down to see her, would things be different now…would my children know me?
My vision blurs and, feeling like the biggest piece of shit on earth, I keep digging through the box until I get to a pastel pink-and-blue congratulations baby card and I open it up.
Gracie,
You were a rock star in birth
and we are so proud of you.
Love,
Mom and Dad.
She didn’t even tell her mom and dad about me. I picture her with two little babies and nobody knowing who the father is and my heart hurts.
She really has done this all alone.
I can’t imagine what it would be like having a child and not being able to tell anyone who the father is. Did they ask her questions, or did she just lie straight from the beginning?
I think back to my mother’s offer of twenty million dollars and what an insult that is. If she had wanted the money, she could have taken it years ago.
There’s a black velvet box underneath everything and I frown and open it, the diamond tennis bracelet I bought for Grace is inside. Carefully strapped into place, it’s sparkling and looks brand new, as if never been worn.
Why would she wear it, she hates you, remember?
My stomach twists some more. I couldn’t have fucked this up harder if I tried.
I flick through the diary and read another entry,
Today I start prenatal classes and what should be a day that’s exciting and one that I’ve been looking forward to…all I can feel is dread.
I’m the only single parent in the class, it’s bad enough I have to do this alone…but being forced to watch everybody else’s husbands and partners be excited feels simply too much to bear.
I get a lump in my throat as I stare at the entry, I hate that she did this alone. I hate what I put her through.
I pick up my phone and scroll through the numbers. Ring ring…ring ring…
“Hello,” Grace answers.
“Hi.” I smile softly, just hearing her voice makes me feel better.
“Gabriel, hi. I’m sorry but the children are asleep.”
“I’m not after the children.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I just wanted to hear your voice.”
Silence…
I close my eyes, filled with regret.
“Grace,” I whisper, “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not being there when you needed me.”
“It doesn’t . . .”
“It matters to me.” I cut her off. “I hate that I wasn’t…” I stop myself saying anything more, unsure how to make this better, “…there for you.”
We fall silent as we both wait on the line for the other to say something.
“I’ll be there Thursday night after work,” I tell her. “As soon as I finish, I’ll be on my way.”
“It’s probably going to be too late by the time you get here to see the kids, they have school the next day.”
“I know.” I think for a moment. “I was hoping that you and the kids could come over to my house on Friday night…and…”
“Are you sure you still want to tell them?”
“Positive.”
“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.”
“I’m not changing my mind.”
“Call me on Friday.”
“Okay.”
“Good night.”
I smile as hope fills me. “Good night, Gracie.”
I walk out to my waiting car to replace Mark standing by it. “Good morning, sir.”
“Morning.”
“How did you sleep?”
“Like a baby.”
The drive to the office is relatively short, and my mind is a whirlwind of nervous excitement. I just want to get back to Greenville…to her.
I think about the weekend and moving into the new house and telling the children, and I smile out the window. . . I have so much to look forward to.
I’m more excited about this weekend than I ever was about my upcoming wedding. That in itself says a lot.
I thought that perhaps I was making the biggest mistake of my life by ending it with Ariana, but replaceing that box has brought with it a sense of relief.
I’m not in this alone, Grace did feel the same, and I know that a lot of time has passed since then…but if she felt it once, she can feel it again.
The car pulls up to the front of the office to a media circus with security guards waiting around. “Fuck’s sake.”
“Shall I keep driving?”
“No, I have to go in. Pull the car up.”
The car comes to a halt and Mark gets out and opens my door, the cameras start to flash and the bodyguards begin to push people. “Get back.”
“Mr. Ferrara, are you devastated about the wedding?” someone yells.
“Is it true you’re having an affair, Gabriel?” another shouts.
“Who is the other woman, Mr. Ferrara?”
I brush past them as the cameras flash.
“Where is Ariana now? Is it true that she has checked into a mental health clinic?”
I clench my jaw in fury as I push through the crowd.
Fuck this.
I take the elevator and walk through reception. “Good morning, Mr. Ferrara.”
“Good morning.”
“Mrs. Ferrara is in your office, sir.”
Great.
“Thank you.” I walk up the corridor and into my office to replace my mother sitting at my desk, her back is ramrod straight with not a hair out of place.
I roll my lips to stop myself from outright verbally attacking her, close the door behind me and take a seat at my desk.
I can hardly contain my anger, and animosity swirls through the air. “Yes, Mother?” I say. “Can I help you?”
She crosses her legs and sits back in her chair. “You’re angry.”
I glare at her as I hold my tongue.
“I went to her to protect you,” she stammers as she begins to get nervous. “And I saw her evil firsthand with my own eyes.”
The anger in my soul begins to smolder with a new fire.
“You cannot throw away what you have with Ariana for Grace Porter. I cannot allow it.”
“Ariana and I are over.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you love Ariana.”
“And you are supposed to love me.” I slam my hand on the desk, causing her to jump.
“I do love you.”
“You tried to buy my own children out of my life,” I bellow. “How the fuck is that loving me?” I glare at her, on the verge of a full-on meltdown. “You’ve gone too far this time, Mother.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Don’t say that,” she whispers. “She’s no good for you, Gabriel.”
“You are no good for me,” I scream. “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Office. Right. Now.”
The door bursts open and Alessio comes into view, his eyes flick between us. “What’s going on?” he asks as he closes the door behind him.
“Get her out of here,” I snap as I walk to the window. I drag my hands through my hair, too angry to even look at her.
“What’s happened?” He frowns.
“Your mother offered Grace Porter twenty million dollars to leave me.”
“I did not,” she lies. “I offered her a nondisclosure contract, there’s a big difference.”
Alessio’s eyes widen. “You’re with Grace Porter now?”
“No, he’s not. He’s having a mental breakdown, that’s what he’s doing,” Mother snaps, infuriated. “He’s going to patch things up with Ariana…that’s if she will even take him back.”
“Get out,” I whisper as a thermonuclear atomic bomb comes dangerously close to blowing up.
“I will not stand by and watch you ruin your life,” she spits.
“Good. You’re not invited to, anyway.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she cries.
“It means that I want nothing to do with you.” I point to the door. “Get out!”
“You fool,” she fires back. “You’re ruining everything you worked so hard for.”
“I’m warning you. If you dare go near Grace or my children again…there will be fucking hell to pay, do you hear me?”
“You do not get to speak to me like this.” She picks up her handbag in a huff and marches from my office and slams the door behind her, the office falls silent.
Alessio begins to pace in a panic. “That was way too much.”
Adrenaline is surging through my bloodstream, and I’m positive that the whole building just heard that exchange.
So much for keeping it together and being calm.
Fuck.
My phone rings on my desk, the name Elias lights up the screen.
What now?
“Yes,” I snap as I answer it.
“Hello. Umm…Mr. Ferrara.”
“What is it?”
“I just called to let you know that Grace is having lunch with a man,” he says nervously. “He met her at her work and he had his arm around her as they walked into the restaurant.”
What?
“Who is it?” I growl.
“I believe it’s the man that you told me to watch, Jack Spalding.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention as a fury like never before runs through my blood. “Go inside and sit at the table next to them.”
“Inside the restaurant?”
I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.
“Do not leave them alone for one fucking second.”
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