“Christmas, birthdays… when they remembered.” Bitterness coated his words. “I basically grew up in this house with my grandfather.”
Without meaning to, I squeezed his hand.
“That must have been hard.”
“It’s all I knew,” he said simply. “Sometimes I think it was better that way. My grandfather may be harsh, but at least he was there. He cared, in his own way.”
“That’s why Carmen said she practically raised you?”
“Yes. My grandfather ran the business, and she took care of me day to day.”
Silence settled between us again, heavier this time. My mind kept circling around the picture of Christian’s childhood-parents absent, a demanding grandfather filling the gap.
“And this Francesca?” I asked before I could stop myself, remembering the conversation cut off on the plane. ” What exactly did she do?”
I felt him tense beside me.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because you almost told me on the plane. And because…” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I think I know what it’s like to have your trust broken.”
Christian drew in a deep breath.
“Francesca worked for Montgomery Wineries. Our biggest competitor.” His voice was low, controlled. “We met at a wine fair four years ago. We started seeing each other, and… I fell in love.”
The admission startled me. It was hard to imagine Christian Kensington in love, vulnerable.
“For three years, I thought we had something real.” He paused, and I felt his fingers tighten slightly around mine. “Until I caught her stealing fermentation formulas it took us decades to develop. Cultivation methods. Market strategies.”
“How did you find out?”
“I caught her in my office, copying files. When I confronted her… she didn’t even try to deny it. She said she’d been hired for that from the start. That our relationship was just… a means to an end.”
The pain in his voice was almost tangible. In that moment, I understood why he kept everyone at arm’s length, why he seemed so cynical about relationships.
“And the worst part,” he went on, his voice now barely a whisper, “is that she was also having an affair with my best friend at the time. Richard. He… was in on it too. The two of them were planning to take everything to Montgomery together.”
Without thinking, I shifted closer to him.
“Christian, that’s awful.”
“Yeah. It was.” He let out a sigh that seemed to carry years of hurt. “After that, my grandfather nearly lost faith in me completely. Said I’d risked the family legacy for a woman. And maybe he was right.”
I didn’t know what to say. For the first time, I saw Christian as he truly was-not the arrogant billionaire, not the man who calculated every move, but someone deeply wounded. Someone who had lost the ability to trust.
Someone like me.
“I think that’s why you and I…” he began, but stopped, as if reconsidering his words.
“What?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
On impulse, I reached out and touched his face in the dark.
“You’re not to blame for what she did,” I whispered. “Believing in someone isn’t a weakness.”
I felt his hand cover mine, holding it against his face.
“Even when that belief destroys you?”
“Yes. Even then.” I swallowed hard, thinking of Alex, of Elise, of all the times I doubted myself after their betrayal. “Because the alternative is to never trust anyone again. And that… that would be the real defeat.”
But before he could continue, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The glow of the screen briefly lit the room. Reaching for it broke the moment, the space between us widening instantly.
It was just a message from Annabelle:
“So, did you sleep with him yet? I bet you did!”
I sighed, setting the phone back down. When I looked at Christian again, something had shifted. He leaned away slightly, as though the interruption had broken a spell.
“The rain’s easing up,” he remarked, the thunder now faint and distant.
“Yeah… it is.”
“I should get back to the sofa.”
I wanted to ask him to stay, but the words wouldn’t come. The moment was gone. With a smooth movement, he rose and returned to his makeshift bed.
“Good night, Zoey.”
“Good night,” I replied, an odd hollowness settling in my chest.
Despite my exhaustion, sleep didn’t come easily. When it finally did, I dreamed of endless vineyards and secrets whispered in the dark.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of a low, controlled voice. Christian stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, already dressed in slacks and a crisp shirt.
“Yes, confirm all the tables are ready by noon. And make sure the tasting area is flawless.” He paused, listening. ” No, I don’t want any last-minute changes. Stick to the original plan.”
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, flooding the room in golden light that highlighted every luxurious detail. For a moment, I just watched him, noting how at ease he looked in his role as CEO. It was a side of him far removed from the vulnerable man of last night.
He turned, noticing I was awake.
“I have to go. Handle it,” he said briskly into the phone before hanging up. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I answered, sitting up in bed, trying to tame my messy hair. “Problems?”
“Just the usual before a big event.” He checked his watch. “Breakfast is on the terrace if you’re hungry.”
I nodded, suddenly very aware that I was only wearing the silk slip.
“I’ll take a quick shower first.”
He gave a short nod, averting his gaze.
“I’ll meet you there.”
When Christian left, I allowed myself a long breath. After the intimacy of the night before, the formality of the morning felt jarring, misplaced.
Twenty minutes later, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a casual blouse, I headed to the terrace. Christian
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.