Twenty-one
Matteo
I hand Colleen Delany a check for forty thousand dollars without hesitation.
It’s not the money that stings. It’s the fact that I have to buy distance between my daughter and her own mother.
Every penny is worth it if it keeps Willow away from Amelia.
Just the thought of them together turns my stomach.
There was a time I wanted them to have a relationship. But now, all I see is someone who’d use my daughter as leverage for attention, for money, for whatever twisted scheme she’s dreaming up next.
“Mr. Marino,” Colleen calls from the doorway, voice syrupy sweet. “Perfect timing. We just got our first demand from Willow’s lawyer. Come with me.”
My pulse kicks up. She touches my arm gently. “It’s exactly what we expected. They still don’t know our strategy.”
That helps. A little. But it won’t matter if Willow gets even partial custody.
She leads me into a smaller, private conference room. With a few keystrokes, a document fills the screen.
“This is textbook,” she says. “You work. Amelia’s with a nanny. Willow wants to move in and be the ‘nanny’ but also have another nanny of her choosing. But get this. She’s asking for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a month.”
She looks at me over the rim of her glasses. “Go big or go home, I guess.”
“Unbelievable,” I mutter. “What’s our response?”
“Ordinarily, we’d counter with something reasonable and begin negotiations.
But with the money she’s stealing from you?
” She shakes her head. “No. We go on offense. Highlight her behavior. Nine days in San Francisco, checking out tomorrow, and she’s spent—” She flips through her notebook.
“—a grand total of six hours with Amelia.”
My jaw clenches.
“We’ll argue she’s neglecting her parental rights, leaving your daughter with the doorman, and is solely responsible for any expenses beyond room and board. That’ll rattle her.”
“Especially since we got the bill today, and it’s exceeded two-hundred grand. Jim got me the updated numbers this morning, and they’ve included the extended time the room will be down for repairs that I’ll have to pay for.”
Colleen nods. “And just to confirm, you don’t want her in your home?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I’ve already spoken with Jim. Her next move will be to claim she’s staying at the Fairmont until the custody dispute is resolved. She’ll argue no one told her she couldn’t spend freely.”
“I’m not funding her lifestyle while she snorts my daughter’s future up her nose.”
“We’re shutting it down. And whoever approved those cash advances… I’ll make sure they’re fired.”
“If we find out it’s one of her friends, I want them sued.”
“Done. I’ll have our response filed by the end of the day. Just be ready—next, she’ll show up with a sippy cup and a camera crew.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I’ve turned the interior cameras on—which I hate. I just never used them because I value my privacy, but I can’t trust what Willow is going to do.”
Colleen chuckles. “Perfect. We shut ours off after our kids moved out.”
I laugh. “Something tells me you’ve got a wild streak.”
“Not anymore,” she says, smiling.
When I step outside, a black Range Rover is waiting at the curb, and I’m surprised to find Jim behind the wheel.
“Hey,” he says. “Wanted to introduce you to your new driver. This is Keith Reynolds. He’ll be working with the Brandts. With everything going on, you’re safer in a car. Todd and Jessica should stay focused on Amelia.”
I shake Keith’s hand and climb in. “Nice to meet you. This feels like overkill, but I still don’t know what Willow’s doing with the money she’s running through my card.”
“That’s not our biggest problem,” Jim says. “You’ve got a shadow.”
My jaw tightens. “A what?”
“Someone’s tailing you. Possibly your brothers, Gianna, Trixie, maybe even Ellory. They haven’t clocked Todd or Jessica yet.”
“Should I warn everyone?”
“I would.”
I pull out my phone and fire off a group text:
Me: Jim says I have a tail. You guys might too. Be alert.
Dante: Thanks for the heads-up. Time to be boring.
Luca: No way. I have plans at DF this weekend. Cancel?
DF equals Dark Fantasy. Our not-so-secret code for the sex club with a surprisingly good restaurant.
Me: Don’t cancel. Just keep it discreet. All she needs is one photo, something she can twist.
Luca: Motherfuckers.
Ciro: I have a date with the Silverthorn twins.
I roll my eyes. I never know if he’s joking.
Me: Then wear a robe. If this hits the tabloids, it’ll hurt the business.
Dante: Dinner tonight with Rebecca and Henry?
Me: Make sure you run it by them before we all show up.
It takes a few minutes before the next message.
Dante: Rebecca and Henry will see us at six. Be sure to bring Amelia and Trixie.
Me: Sorry, guys. I didn’t ask for this.
Ciro: Not your fault. Love you, bro. See everyone tonight.
My chest tightens. I’m lucky to have them. Always.
But right now, I need to see Ellory.
I tap Keith’s shoulder. “Take me to Olivier’s on Grant.”
“Of course,” he replies, adjusting course.
Jim glances over. “Going to see Ellory?”
“Yeah. I want to tell her in person.”
“I’ll get you in. Duane and Richard both work for me.” He pulls out his phone. “Richard? I’ve got Matteo headed your way for Ms. Matisse. Can you meet him?”
He nods after a pause. “Keith, take the employee entrance on Post.”
We pull up. Duane’s already waiting, holding the door.
“Ms. Matisse is expecting you.”
Inside, I’m struck by the space—soft champagne tones, antique displays, refined and elegant. Very Ellory.
She walks in behind me, heels clicking softly against the floor. “What’s going on?”
I glance over my shoulder and grin. “Can’t a boyfriend surprise his girlfriend at work?”
She arches a brow. “I didn’t know I had a boyfriend.”
That sass makes me grin harder. I tug her close, and she melts against me, her arms looping around my neck. Her kiss is slow, indulgent, like we’ve got nothing but time. My chest loosens. This—her—is exactly why I came.
A voice cuts through the moment. “I’m sorry.”
We spring apart.
A woman about Ellory’s age stands in the doorway. I feel the subtle shift in Ellory’s body beside me, the way her shoulders pull taut, the edge in her silence.
“I heard someone from Luster was here. I wanted to see the stones.”
“Heather,” Ellory says, cool and collected, though her tone is razor-sharp. “This is Matteo Marino.”
I step forward, extending my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Heather’s eyes lock on mine, holding too long. Too direct. I thought Olivier was her endgame, but maybe she’s just hungry for power, any power she can grab.
“I’m not here for business,” I say evenly. “Just visiting Ellory.”
Her gaze slides to our joined hands. “Is it something I can help with?” she asks, batting lashes she probably paid too much for.
Ellory shoots her a glare sharp enough to cut glass. I tighten my grip on her hand, staking my claim without saying a word.
“Thanks,” I tell Heather, “but I’ve already got everything I need, right here.”
Heather’s smile is all teeth. “Too bad.” She struts off, tossing one last lingering look my way.
As soon as she’s gone, I mutter under my breath, “She’s quite the busybody.”
“You have no idea,” Ellory sighs.
I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss the back of it. “I only have eyes for you.”
That earns me a smile, soft and genuine, and just like that, I know I made the right call coming here.
“She’ll lose her mind tonight,” Ellory says. “She’s going to push my dad about the lunch he and I had today.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“That he should marry her, retire, and leave the company to me.”
My cock stirs. Her confidence is a fucking turn-on.
“She wants everything that’s mine,” she continues, voice hard. “She’s worked her way into my father’s office, my brand, even the board. Now, she wants my place too.”
“What does your dad say about her?” I ask.
“Not a lot. He just agrees with me and probably does the same thing with her. He hates confrontation.”
“Sounds like it’s time to get all of you at the same table.” The words slip out before I can stop them. She’s not asking me to solve her problems, but hell, I can’t help it.
Her eyes widen a little, then soften. “You’re right. I’ve been so close to this, I didn’t even see it before.” She tips her head back and groans her frustration. “She’s a raging bitch. I don’t trust her.”
“My brothers and I call women like her ‘forty-niners.’”
Ellory frowns. “She’s not forty-nine years old.”
I laugh. “Gold digger. Back in 1849, San Francisco was crawling with them.”
Understanding sparks, and she smirks. “Ah. Got it.” She leans in, kissing me quick but sure. “She’s not even my dad’s type. Too much plastic. But if she makes him happy, fine. She’s not getting her claws into the will, not without me knowing.”
A flicker of worry runs through me. I rub my thumb over her hand.
“I just hope she’s with him for the right reasons.” Ellory steps in closer, eyes searching mine. “So… what really brings you here?”
The air leaves my lungs in one hard rush. “Jim thinks you’re being followed. You, my brothers, Trixie—all of us might have tails.”
Her smile fades instantly. “Why?”
“She’s looking for leverage.” My voice cracks with disgust. “Her lawyer’s already demanding I fire Trixie and pay Willow two hundred and fifty grand a month to ‘nanny’ Amelia.”
Ellory’s eyes flash with fury. “She’s going to use Amelia to control you.”
The words gut me. “I’m terrified of that,” I admit, softer now. “Not for me. For Amelia. She doesn’t deserve to be a pawn in Willow’s bullshit games.”
“I get it. I went to school with the Getty kids. They never had to deal with this.”
“They did. One of them was kidnapped, remember?”
“Oh, right.” She smirks faintly, though her eyes are still hard. “Perks of generational wealth.”
I lean in, needing her to understand how serious this is. “I just want you to be careful. If someone catches you dancing around in lace panties, it could end up in a tabloid.”