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Trying to train it. So far, she’d failed miserably, and living in his damned apartment hadn’t helped. As she very much liked the thought of the kidnapping bastard suffering to know she was making herself at home in what had been his home, she couldn’t bring herself to go back to her own apartment. Besides, it would be like admitting defeat, although she didn’t know what for.

She just felt all out of sorts. Maybe she had that post-traumatic stress thing. After all, she’d been kidnapped and forced to suffer premade pizza. That diagnosis had to be better than believing herself in love with him.

She wondered if Mattia had progressed beyond ready-made crap food.

Argh!!!! She was thinking of him again.

Who cared what he was eating?

Angry with herself and on the verge of tears, Elvira stomped up the stairs to the bedroom that had been Mattia’s until only a month ago…

Oh for heaven’s sake!

That was it. She admitted defeat. She was moving into one of the spare rooms. She would not spend another night sleeping in the room that bastard had slept in. Having it redecorated and new furniture installed, including a new bed, had done nothing to remove his presence. With any luck, a different room untainted by him meant she wouldn’t have any more of those horrible Mattia dreams she kept suffering the few times she was able to snatch a little sleep.

Chapter Eighteen

Security at Elio’s villa was as tight as the security Mattia had enjoyed in the villa he’d grown up in. He was glad of it. It meant his baby sister was as safe as she could be.

The last time he’d been here, it had been so Elio could theatrically announce stealing everything from him. Mattia didn’t suppose there would be any nasty surprises awaiting him this time.

It was only early days, but the truce seemed to be bearing fruit. Tommaso had retaken his place in the Esposito Group, now renamed the Ranieri Group, his wife Gabriella slotting into the picture too. It didn’t surprise Mattia in the slightest that Siena had taken control of running it, or so Rico had told him the other day when he’d gone over to say goodbye.

It surprised Mattia how little interest he had in the business. Surprised him, too, how indifferent he’d been when he’d dropped in to see his mother, currently living in a tiny cottage on Rico’s land. Not indifferent to her, but indifferent to her suffering. He’d had her released from the Ranieris’ penury and put into a different kind of penury. She was forbidden from leaving the cottage. Even Marisa, Rico’s angel, agreed this was necessary. The barn currently being converted for her would give his mother more living space, but she would still live out her days alone under effective house arrest.

But no, Mattia had not been the least bit indifferent to actually seeing his mother. The rage he’d felt to be in her presence had been too strong to even pretend at indifference.

People used to say he was the child most like her, and he had been. He’d been cold and calculating, but where his coldness and calculation had come from an inbuilt survival mechanism, hers was entirely natural. That she loved her children was something hardwired into her, but judging by Siena’s experience, something she could override when she felt it necessary. For everyone else, she had no feelings at all. She’d been the perfect match for his father. Both of them saw other humans as pawns to be used or disposed of for their benefit.

He’d looked in his mother’s eyes and seen Elvira. He’d pictured her as a toddler, bewildered at the loss of her mother, too young to comprehend the magnitude of what had been so cruelly taken from her.

He’d turned around and walked away from the woman who’d given him life without uttering a word to her.

He never wanted to see her again.

Climbing the steps to the villa’s front door, it was opened before he could knock on it. His sister appeared, greeting him with a wide smile and a tight embrace.

“Something smells good,” he said as she led him by the hand through to the dining room.

“It’s something Rocco’s whipped up for us,” Siena said happily. “We thought you could do with a decent meal to see you off after weeks of fending for yourself.”

“I get by,” he lied. He’d come to the conclusion that he despised cooking and would dine out or live on takeout for the rest of his life, and no sooner had he imagined Elvira’s face if she knew the zero progress he’d made with his culinary skills in the last three weeks than he’d stepped into the dining room and come to an immediate halt to see her seated at the table.

From the wide shock in Elvira’s silver eyes, Mattia’s presence was as much of a surprise to her as hers was to him.

“Nice of you to warn me you’d invited the kidnapping Esposito bastard,” the woman who’d plagued his mind these last three weeks shot at her brother as Mattia took the seat next to her after shaking hands with Elio (he didn’t think he’d ever be able to bring himself to make the traditional tactile Italian greeting of cheek kisses to him).

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your spark,” Mattia retorted lightly. How he was able to make his voice light when his heart was pumping so heavily was a mystery.

She glared at him without actually looking at him, folded her arms across her chest to glare at her brother and twisted her back to him. She was wearing one of her sparkling spaghetti strap tops, this one an emerald green.

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t know you’d been invited,” Mattia said to her cold shoulder.

“Did I forget to mention it?” Siena asked, her face the picture of innocence.

He pulled his best big brother face. “You know you did.”

“Sorry.”