Maisey Yates

Postcards From… Collection


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his face a mask of pure rage.

       CHAPTER NINE

      RIGO’S FIST CONNECTED squarely with the photographer’s fleshy jaw, sending him to the ground instantly, where he lay cowering. He grabbed the camera, hurtling it at the boundary wall of the estate with a satisfying smash.

      ‘You’re going to regret this, Marchesi.’ The man spat blood onto the ground, groaning as he held his rapidly swelling jaw.

      Rigo leaned down, grabbing him by the collar and watching him wince in preparation for another punch.

      Nicole’s hand on his arm was the only thing that stopped him from pummelling the man to within an inch of his life. The red rage lifted and the sound of his daughter’s terrified cries was suddenly all he could hear.

      His security guards stepped in, pulling the man to his feet and holding him in their grasp while one began contacting the local law enforcement.

      Rigo reached out, taking Anna from Nicole’s shaking arms. The little girl nestled into him, her cries still fearful but not as piercing now that he held her close. Holding Nicole by the arm, he guided her away from the ugly scene, back towards the villa as his heart hammered painfully in his chest.

      Once inside, Rigo calmed Anna with quiet shushing until she was laughing once more. He set her down in her playpen and surrounded her with toys. He had to tend to Nicole’s injured feet. The sight of her panic-stricken face flashed through his mind, making his fists clench. He blocked it out. Needing to do something practical to calm himself, and to stop himself from running out and physically attacking the rat once more, he grabbed a first-aid box from the kitchen, getting to work cleaning her raw wounds and bandaging the more open cuts.

      Nicole hissed with pain. ‘I lost my shoes when I ran from him.’

      Rigo clenched his jaw. ‘He’s going to be taken care of—don’t worry.’

      ‘He’s going to sue you for attacking him,’ Nicole whispered, looking past him to the windows.

      ‘I’d like to see him try,’ Rigo gritted, putting one last rub of salve on her skin before closing up the kit with a dull click.

      He stood up, needing to move, needing to rid himself of the awful sensation of his control slipping further and further away. He had acted rashly in punching the bastard, but he would do it again—countless times.

      ‘Rigo, this is bad.’ She looked up at him. ‘You have basically just started a war with the very people we’ve worked so hard to sway.’

      ‘Would you have preferred that I let him walk away with pictures of our child?’

      ‘No, of course not.’ She winced as she put pressure on her foot. ‘I’m just worried about how this will affect your deal...your company.’

      Rigo’s chest tightened. He hadn’t been thinking about the company at all. If he was honest with himself he hadn’t thought about it in days. He had acted on instinct, protecting what mattered most to him. For the first time in his life that hadn’t been his own interests or the bottom line. When had Nicole and Anna become more important?

      He stood up, pacing away from her to the window. In the distance he could see the repugnant photographer being bundled into a polizia car. Alberto stood at the gate, turning to look up at him with an expression he knew mirrored his own.

      He had messed up—royally.

      * * *

      Nicole sat in the breakfast nook the next morning, watching as Rigo paced on the terrace and continued his phone call with the legal team. It unsettled her that she didn’t know whether to reach out to her own husband or leave him be. Seeing him lose his temper so completely yesterday had been terrifying—like watching a stranger.

      He returned inside, laying the phone down on the counter with a click and taking a long sip of his espresso.

      ‘The photographer has started a lawsuit,’ he said, clenching his fist tightly on the counter. ‘He is claiming that because he was on a public road he should have had the freedom of the press. The media are pressing to have our injunction turned around.’

      Nicole’s hand froze, her croissant dropping back to her plate. ‘He can’t do that. He’s just one man.’

      ‘It’s never “just one man” when it comes to the paparazzi and what they see as their God-given right to give the public what they want.’

      Nicole felt suddenly cold, even though the morning sun shone in brightly through the windows. If their injunction was overturned it would mean that every detail about their relationship, their child, would be fair game.

      ‘We will need to leave for Paris immediately,’ he said, turning back to her, his hands thrust deep into his pockets.

      ‘I am not going to Paris.’ Nicole looked at him in amazement that he could even suggest such a thing.

      ‘We need to tackle this, Nicole. If the Fournier deal falls through now thousands of jobs will be at stake. Not to mention the effect it will have on the Marchesi Group.’

      ‘Your company is not my priority right now.’ She bit her lip hard.

      ‘Nicole, I need you by my side if we’re to stand any chance of braving this,’ he said earnestly. ‘You’re my wife.’

      ‘Exactly. I’m your wife. So stop thinking of me as a media device and consider my feelings for a change.’ She stood up, ignoring the pain it brought. ‘That man chased me down a hill to get pictures of my child, Rigo. Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to know that I still can’t protect her?’

      Rigo raised his voice. ‘You agreed to this when you married me. You knew what a high-profile relationship involved.’

      ‘I didn’t agree to walking right into the heart of a fresh scandal. I can’t go back to Paris. I can’t put myself back out there for you. I’m sorry.’ She shook her head, walking into the living room.

      Rigo followed her, backing her up against the door. ‘I did what I did to protect my family. I stood up for you. And now you are running away like a coward.’

      ‘You know...that’s exactly what my mother always said whenever she had done something that made my life more difficult,’ she spat, and saw him react as though she’d slapped him.

      Rigo frowned. ‘That’s unfair. You know that I care about you—and about Anna.’ He stepped away from her, giving her some breathing room. ‘I need you both with me in Paris, and that is final.’

      ‘If you cared about us you wouldn’t make us leave this estate ever again.’

      ‘Nicole, listen to me. I will protect you both from the media.’ He took her hands in his. ‘I made that vow and I have already proved that I meant it. Let me protect you.’

      Nicole shook her head sadly. ‘You can’t use me again and again to protect your company from scandal and still make out as though you’re putting family first.’

      He dropped her hands hastily, stepping away as though she’d burned him. ‘So what? You’re going to hole yourself up here and raise my daughter alone in this house like bloody Rapunzel? You think that’s better than risking a photo of her being leaked?’

      Nicole remained silent. Refusing to look at him.

      He shook his head with finality. ‘The only person being unreasonable here is you. I hope you’re happy here in your own personal prison.’

      He stormed out, leaving Nicole to stare at the door blankly.

      * * *

      Rigo remained completely silent in the conference room as all hell broke loose around him. The PR team had worked furiously for three days now to uphold the injunction, but with the story gaining steam on social media it had