6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Vincenzo
“ S ir, we have some more information,” Martin states as he drops a file on my desk and waits for me to pick it up.
I take a deep breath as I grab the file and open it.
The information contained in the file is detailed, and confirms my suspicions; the gallery is going to Jeremy’s daughter, Emilia.
I continue flicking through the files, checking each photo of the woman I need to convince to sell me her father’s gallery.
My breath catches at the sight of her classic beauty.
Her auburn hair falls in soft cascades over her shoulders, while her hazel doe-like eyes stare off into the distance, not aware our private investigator had been capturing her beauty with every shot.
I can feel a smile tugging at my lips. Not only is Emilia, Jeremy's daughter; she is also the key to acquiring the gallery. The timing couldn't be more perfect. I run a hand through my hair, my mind already formulating a plan to approach her.
"Thank you, Martin. This is very valuable information," I say, looking up at Martin with a nod of approval. Martin stands at attention, clearly waiting for further instructions. When they don’t come straight away, he asks, "Sir, should we begin the reconnaissance phase of our plan?"
I lean back in my chair, steepling my fingers together as I consider his question. "No, not yet. But start putting together a detailed profile of Emilia—her interests, habits, friends—everything that will be useful to know when we approach her. Discretion is key here."
Martin nods, understanding the importance of the task at hand. "As you wish, Sir." He begins to gather his things and leave the office.
After he leaves, I can't help but stare at the picture of Emilia once more. She’s a captivating woman indeed, and I can't help but wonder if she will be my ticket to acquiring the one thing I desire most—the gallery.
My phone begins to ring; I can’t help but let out a grunt of frustration as I look down at the caller ID.
Kayla’s been driving me insane ever since our last interaction.
I quickly reject the call not wanting to deal with her brand of crazy at this moment in time.
My phone rings again, except this time it’s my father and once again I manage to resist the urge to throw my phone across the room before accepting the call.
“Enzo,” his stern voice is laced with anger. I know what’s coming, I don't bother responding. “You listen here, boy, enough with your childish games.” I let out a sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I’m not doing this right now, Papa,” my voice sounding resigned even to my own ears.
“I don’t give a shit if you’re not in the mood, Vincenzo. You listen to me right now. You will make an effort with Kayla, you will treat her with some sort of respect, and you will follow orders. Do I make myself clear?” I wait a couple beats, waiting for my breathing to calm down.
“Crystal,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
I hang up the phone, the tension in the room thick as I try to calm my racing heart.
Kayla is a nuisance, a complication I don't need right now.
But my father's orders are not to be ignored.
Deciding to take a walk outside to clear my head, I push back from the desk and exit the office.
As I step out onto the bustling city streets, the cool air hits my face, providing a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere in my office.
I walk with no particular destination in mind, allowing my thoughts to wander.
Emilia's image continuously flashing in my mind. Her beauty is captivating, but there is something else about her that intrigues me. The vulnerability in her eyes in the pictures, the sadness that seems to linger just beneath the surface.
I know I need to stop thinking about her like this and I need to let it go.
I only need to deal with her to get to my end goal, which means I need to remain focused, and I need to get her to agree to sell me the gallery.
But how? How am I going to tell a girl who just lost her father, to give up the last piece of him.
There is no time for pondering, I need to make this happen, and fast.
My phone rings again, I check the caller ID and my eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Martin? What’s going on?” I question before impatiently waiting for his response.
“Sir, we’ve found something on Emilia Walters.” I turn back towards the office, quickening my pace. “And trust me, sir, you’re going to want to see this.”
I arrive back at the office, my heart pounding with anticipation as I enter the room to find Martin standing by the large screen on the wall.
He nods at me as I approach, his expression unreadable.
"What did you find?" I ask, my voice betraying my eagerness.
Martin hands me a file marked ‘Emilia Walters’ with a confident look on his face.
I quickly open it, scanning through the pages that contain shocking revelations about Emilia.
“Well, well, Miss Walters. Haven't you been a naughty girl?”