Sweet Temptation by Cora Reilly

Mother touched my cheek. “You’re not old.”
I stepped out of her reach. “Where’s Father?”
“In the cigar lounge. He won’t listen to me. Can’t you tell him to drop this
awful habit? He’s already had three heart attacks. The smoking doesn’t help.”
“Father won’t listen to me either.” The cigar lounge was filled with the
thickly sweet aroma of Cuban cigars. Father sat in the armchair in front of the
fireplace, a glass with whisky in one and a cigar in the other hand.
He smiled, the wrinkles in his face deepening. “Good to see you, Cassio.
Take a seat.”
I sank down in the armchair beside his and shook my head when he offered
me a cigar. I’d never liked the taste very much. “What is it you wanted to
discuss?”
“How are things back home with Giulia?”
I gave him an exasperated look. “Is that what this meeting is about? Marriage
counseling?”
Father leaned forward, putting his cigar down in the tray. “Our men admire
you. They fear you too. Some might even hate you. If your second marriage ends
as unfortunately as your first, then hate and fear might become too dominant.”
I pushed out of the chair, but Father put a wrinkled hand on my arm. “Stay.
I’m an old man. I’m allowed to tell my son the truth.”
“It’s the truth as you see it, Father.”
He waited.
Sighing, I sank back down and leaned back. “Things are as well as they can
be, considering Giulia’s age and the situation as a whole. Nothing about this is
ideal. I’m trying to exercise damage control.”
“Damage control,” Father scoffed. “Marriage is a matter of emotion. If you
expect the worst, the worst is what you’ll get.”
“If you expect the worst, you’re prepared for the worst. I won’t be caught
off-guard ever again.”
“Maybe you should give Giulia the benefit of the doubt. She’s a lovely girl.
She’s nothing like Gaia.”
“I don’t know what kind of woman Giulia is.”
“And whose fault is that?” Father inquired.
I shook my head. “Does this conversation serve another purpose than to
criticize the way I handle my marriage?”
“I’m worried about you, Cassio,” Father said quietly, his eyes filled with
sorrow. “You are everything I wanted in a son. You are strong, you are just, you
never shy away from the hard decisions. I never doubted your ability to rule
Philadelphia.”
“But now you do?”
Father’s shoulders sagged. Even though his parlor was pale, he reached for
the cigar again. “A temple needs more than one pillar to stand. There’s more to
life than work.”
I stared off into the flames of the fireplace. “Work is the only constant in my