Free The Italian Billionaire's Disgraced Fiancée by Betsy Swann

after he’d asked for a large amount of money. He needed it to pay for an operation for his critically ill cousin, but Clarissa hadn’t even asked for the reason. She had just run, and the next thing he’d heard about her was when a glossy magazine covered the news of her high profile engagement to Bill Hetherington. And then, eight months later, she suddenly stood on his doorstep, the two baby girls in her arms.
    Believe me, Izzy. The day you came to stay with me was the luckiest day of my life, although at the same time I lost both your mother and your twin sister.
    He had named her Clarissa after her mother, he wrote, and this, in combination with their close likeness made his heart ache for the lost love of his life every single day of his life.
    Why, oh why had he not told her the truth about her mother, why had he pretended she’d died after giving birth to her? Had he assumed it was too painful for her to know that Clarissa had left them? And what had made him believe it was better for her never to meet her siblings, or even know about their existence?
    All my life I have regretted that I never explained to your mother why I needed that money . Clarissa’s betrayal broke my heart. She had hurt my pride and not trusted me. In the end she died not knowing the truth. I beg of you, Izzy, never let you and the man you love come to the point where a simple explanation could sort out the problems you are facing, and both of you are too stubborn to speak. I have learned my lesson. Love and trust go hand in hand. If you are not prepared to jump over your own shadow, you will always lose, never gain.
    Wiping the tears off her cheeks Izzy put the letters back into the secret compartment and closed the drawer. Her father’s advice was great, wonderful, but it was not as easy to follow as he seemed to imagine. She had tried to tell Enzo the truth, again and again, but he wouldn’t listen. He had not wanted to hear Samuel Carson’s explanations either, and the letter she had written to him a couple of days later had been returned to sender. Had Enzo only spared two minutes of his time, he’d now know that Samuel was Bella’s godfather and her late mother’s good friend. By pure chance he had been in that nightclub where Bella partied in the early hours of her 21 st birthday, when somebody had spiked her drink so that she’d gone all woozy. Samuel had rescued his goddaughter by bringing her to the safety of his flat - a good deed that had been totally misinterpreted by the paparazzi and vastly blown out of proportion. Samuel Carson had acted like a modern day knight in shining armour saving his godchild only to be slaughtered by the press as an aging playboy finding pleasure with yet another young lover between the silken sheets of his king-sized bed in his penthouse love nest.
    Frowning Izzy drank a sip of her hot chocolate. How she hated all these lies. Lovers who didn’t confide in each other. Readers who couldn’t trust what was written black on white in the papers. Children whose parents never dared to tell them the truth. Everything in Izzy’s mind screamed to perform better in her own life, to aim for the truth, to be outspoken and not fall into that terrible trap of not telling, not trusting. And still her parents’ history had repeated itself when Enzo had so willingly believed the worst of her and refused to give her a chance.
    The problem was that you needed two people to talk and to trust. If one of them was not willing, the whole wonderful plan didn’t work out. It was all good and well to have one party wanting to explain. If the other part declined to listen or read the other person’s letter, it was all to no avail. Enzo had cut her short when she had wanted to tell him what had happened. One needed two to tango, and he had refused to take the necessary steps. He had simply cut her out of his life.
    Strangely enough, now Enzo acted as if she was the one with the mercenary heart, and he was the wounded