The anger in her grew to a life force.

“I’ll kill him,” she said.

“All that Italian blood coursing through your veins,” Mia said, taking her arm. “I’m in favor of you telling him exactly what you think, but not right now. You’re too raw.”

“I’m not raw. I’m empowered. I could rip him apart with my bare hands.”

“There’s a visual.”

Mia tugged on her arm, and Brenna let herself be led to the back of the house. “Come on, Sis. You need a drink.”

“I need to destroy him.”

“Later. Let Grandma Tessa handle him.”

Brenna started to protest, but an odd thing happened when she sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. She couldn’t get up. In a matter of seconds her entire body shook as if she were having a seizure. Then she was crying. Great gulping sobs that nearly split her in two.

“Oh, Mia,” she gasped.

Her sister sank down next to her and pulled her close.

“It hurts,” Brenna sobbed. “Oh, God, it hurts so much.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I loved him.”

Mia squeezed her tight.

Brenna was grateful that her sister didn’t offer any pat phrases of comfort. The truth was, there weren’t any words left that would heal this wound. She’d trusted Nic with her dreams and her heart, and he’d never been interested in either. Instead he’d wanted to destroy her and her family.

How could she have been so wrong about him? How could she have been such a fool?

Sometime close to midnight Brenna told herself she couldn’t cry forever. Eventually she would run out of tears, although that didn’t seem close to happening anytime soon. She felt drained and puffy and more than a little sorry for herself. Every twenty minutes or so, a fresh wave of anger gave her energy, but then the sadness drowned it out, and she was left feeling broken again.

In the past few hours she’d tried to figure out which was worse-her stupidity or Nic’s betrayal. So far it was a toss-up. How could she have been so blind? Hadn’t she learned anything by being married to Jeff and having him leave her? And how could Nic have turned out to be such incredible slime? Worse, he was slime that was damn good in bed.

Her life had just hit bottom. Not only was she a moron, but she was a moron with a million-dollar debt.

Mia stuck her head in. “I know you don’t feel like it, but the Grands are fussing, so I said I’d bring you up a tray.”

Brenna nodded. “That’s fine. Just put it on the dresser.” She sniffed, then pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed. “What are they doing up?”

“Worrying about you.” Mia set the tray on the dresser, then approached the bed. “We’re all worried.”

Brenna pulled a tissue from the box and wiped her face. “That’s sweet, but not necessary. I’ve already figured out I’m not going to die because of this. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, but that won’t last very long. Eventually I’ll snap out of it. Maybe I’ll lose ten pounds in the process.”

Mia settled on the edge of the mattress. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to call Joe and have him bomb Nic’s house?”

“Maybe.” Brenna blew her nose. “No, that would be a bad idea. I wouldn’t want Max hurt. I’ll have to figure out my own form of revenge. If I had a chance with Four Sisters, I would go the success route. Man, I would love to rub his nose in it by winning awards and becoming the darling of the wine community.”

“That could still happen,” Mia said.

“Not likely. I have a feeling an attorney is going to come calling in the morning. Nic’s going to want his money back.” And she had no way to repay him.

She looked at her baby sister. “I told him I loved him. Can you believe it? Right before you drove up, I actually said that. Do I have lousy timing or what? Actually I have lousy taste in men.”

Mia’s mouth twisted. “I never knew he was such a bastard.”

“Me, either. I hate him.”

There was another knock on the door. Brenna was surprised when her grandfather walked into the room.

“Isn’t anyone sleeping tonight?” she asked.

“I sent Tessa and Mary-Margaret to bed. Mia, it’s time for you to be there, as well.”

Mia rolled her eyes, then kissed Brenna’s cheek. “If you want to talk later, come wake me up. I’m happy to listen.”

“Thanks.”

Her sister stood and left. Grandpa Lorenzo took her seat on the bed. He took her hand in his and patted her fingers.

“You have been crying,” he announced.

Brenna did her best to smile. “I already knew that.”

“About the boy or the money?”

“Both.” More Nic than the money, which just proved how stupid she was. A sensible person would be more upset about the loan.

“A million dollars is a lot to cry over. What did you do with it? I know you didn’t buy a new car.”

She started to laugh, then tears filled her eyes. She brushed them away. “I wanted to start a winery,” she whispered, despite the pain in her chest. “Ridiculous, huh?” She braced herself for the explosion of temper.

But instead of yelling, her grandfather only shrugged. “Not ridiculous. Not a surprise. How far did you get?”

The calm response caught her off guard. She blinked away the tears. “Pretty far. I bought those four acres of Pinot grapes I told you about, along with crops. I’m doing a cuvée, a Chardonnay, a Pinot, and a Cab.”

“Very ambitious.”

“I wanted Four Sisters to be up and running in two to four years. I figured I knew enough people to get my wines in the right places once it was ready. There would be a few lean years, but once I was through them, I could keep expanding.”

His dark eyes never wavered. “Four Sisters?”

She nodded.

“Where is your wine?”

“At Nic’s.” She explained how he’d loaned her equipment, a building, and storage facilities. She outlined his seemingly generous offers, only now realizing how each one got her deeper and deeper in debt.

“I should have realized,” she said. “I should have seen what he was doing.”

“How? He’s a smart man. Driven. Competitive. I suspect he didn’t plan to use you until you showed up wanting the loan. Then you were an opportunity he could not resist.”

She’d been easy both in and out of bed. Easy and easily fooled.

“Did you try getting your loan from the banks?” he asked.

She nodded. “And the Small Business Administration. I had no collateral, no formal education. They weren’t impressed.”

“What about your father? Marco has money in trust. He could have made the loan.”

In hindsight going to her father made a lot of sense. “I thought…” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t want to make him choose between you and me. There’s been so much fighting already. I knew you’d be mad.”

“Do I look mad?”

She eyed him. “No. You actually look okay.”

“See. I’m not so bad.”

“I didn’t think you were bad.”

“Just stubborn and set in my ways?”

Despite everything, she smiled. “Pretty much.”

Her grandfather squeezed her hand. “I understand.” He leaned close and kissed her forehead. “Now you sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

Brenna doubted that was true, but she was ready to be alone so she didn’t argue. She slid down on the bed and closed her eyes. Her grandfather clicked off the light as he left the room.

Once she was by herself, her eyes popped open and she stared into the darkness. Morning wouldn’t bring relief. Instead it would simply be one more day to survive knowing she’d been a fool for love and a sucker for her dreams.

Nic waited until after nine the following morning before calling to talk to Brenna. The previous evening when he tried to see her, Grandma Tessa had claimed she was ill. He knew that finding out about what had really happened between the Marcellis and the Giovannis all those years ago had been a shock, but he doubted it had been enough to make her sick. He reminded himself that Brenna had also learned that her grandfather might be willing to sell Marcelli. Still, she’d always been tough.

He had to speak with her. He hadn’t slept and had nearly gone over there a dozen times in the night. Only the thought of embarrassing her in front of her family had stopped him. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to tell her the truth, explain what had happened and why. Make her understand.

He waited impatiently through three rings. Finally the phone was answered.

“Marcelli residence.”

At least Lorenzo hadn’t picked up. He thought he recognized the voice. “Mia?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Nic. I’d like to speak with Brenna. I came by to see her last night, and your grandmother said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“She wasn’t.”

He frowned. “Did she catch a bug?”

“No, but you could say she escaped from one. Or would worm be a more descriptive term?”

He got a hollow feeling inside. “Mia, what are you talking about?”

“You, Nic. The charming, successful Nicholas Giovanni. I would have thought with all your land and money you would be beyond using any means to get what you want, but I guess I’d be wrong. I mean you’re the great-grandson of a weasel bastard; why wouldn’t you be just as devious and backstabbing?”

Shit! “You know.”

“That you’ve been planning to buy Marcelli Wines using a front of respectable businessmen because you knew my grandfather would never sell to the likes of you? If you mean that, then yes, we know. We all know. It was quite the surprise. I’ve gotten over it, but Brenna’s having a more difficult time. I wonder why. Hmm, you think maybe for her it got a little personal? You think she’s having a little trouble with the whole betrayal thing?”

He shouldn’t be surprised. Of course Lorenzo had the means to find out who’d set up the deal. “I have to talk to Brenna. I have to explain-”

“Explain what?” Mia asked, cutting him off. “Nobody here gives a damn about you or your explanations.” She sucked in a breath. “We took you in, Nic. We made you welcome in our home, and all that time you were planning to screw us. I never understood the feud before, but I do now. I want revenge, and if you think I’m pissed off, just imagine what Brenna would like to do with you.”