Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Anton
I sat at the sleek glass desk in my hotel suite staring at my computer screen. The sheer curtains billowed around the open window, and the quiet hum of the street below filtered through. I barely noticed. My focus was locked on the fluctuating numbers spread across multiple windows—U.S. stock trends, shifting cryptocurrency valuations, and market volatility indicators.
Years of experience had sharpened my instincts, allowing me to read these movements like a second language, letting me know exactly when to pivot and when to hold. A slight downturn in tech stocks caught my eye, but it was the erratic behavior of Bitcoin that held my attention. There was an opportunity buried beneath the panic of minor investors, and I could already see how to exploit it. However, I was looking to offload my crypto portfolio, not expand it .
Leaning back in my chair, I reached for the mug of coffee that had long since turned cold. I took a sip as I picked up my phone, scanning through the messages. One from Myla stood out. I tapped the screen and dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.
“Tell me you have good news,” I said.
“Depends on how you define good,” Myla replied, her tone even. “The nondisclosures for the contractors renovating the private lounges have been signed and filed. They should begin work sometime next week.”
“And the completion date?” I hated any disruptions for the members at Club O, but the lounge renovations were needed.
“Pending no unforeseen problems, the rooms should only be down for five days.”
“Good. Keep me apprised on the progress. What about the update for the new security system?”
“Almost finished. But I would feel better if Zeke could give it his stamp of approval before I sign off on anything.”
“I agree. I’ll see about sending him back to New York early to help with that. Anything else?”
“That should be it. How are things in Italy?” she asked.
I pressed my lips together, not sure how to describe how things were going. I’d been here for two solid weeks. During that time Serena and I had settled into an easy routine. We spent most afternoons and all of our evenings together, and I had enjoyed several more dinners in the company of Sylvia Martinelli. After that first dinner, she discovered who I was. While most people’s behavior would have changed once they learned of my status, Sylvia remained as kind as she had on the day I met her.
She was a lovely woman, and it was easy to see why Serena didn’t want to disappoint her. Hell, even I was beginning to care about her approval. I’d never followed a curfew once in my life, yet I completely understood the need for one now—but understanding didn’t mean that I liked it .
I wanted more from Serena—freedom from rules and time restrictions. I hadn’t planned on things being like this when I came to Italy. My eyes drifted back to the charts on my screen. Markets were predictable. My predicament with Serena was not. And in my world, control was everything. The days were slipping away. I had two weeks left with her, and I needed to take command of what remained of our time together.
“It’s different. Quieter and more…domestic,” I told Myla, lacking a better word to describe the situation.
She laughed. “Domestic is not how I would describe you.”
I was about to agree, but the line beeped to signal another incoming call. I glanced at the screen. It was Serena. I quickly ended the call with Myla and clicked over.
“Afternoon, princess. I was just thinking about you.”
“Were you now?” she mused, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “That sounds dangerous.”
I leaned back in my chair, allowing the sound of her voice to wash over me. “You have no idea.”
She hummed in response, and I could almost picture her—leaning against the wood table in her workshop, her eyes sparkling the way they always did when she was toying with me. “What exactly were you thinking about?”
I let the question hang between us for a moment, my mind shifting gears.
“A few things,” I said smoothly. “Like how long it’s been since I’ve had you pinned beneath me with my cock inside you. Or how much I love the sound of you moaning my name.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You’re insatiable.”
I bit back a chuckle. “I think you like that about me.”
“It’s too early for me to handle your shenanigans.”
“It’s well past noon.”
She exhaled, and when she spoke again, she sounded frustrated. “I know. It’s been a long morning. I’m calling to let you know that the dig permits have been delayed. We won’t be able to resume work in Rome for another two weeks.”
That caught my attention. Two more weeks in Lucca meant another two weeks with a curfew. That would never do. I was too old for this shit, and I’d been patient long enough.
“Why so long?” I asked, already thinking about putting Zeke on the problem. Perhaps he could find a way to speed things along. Money talks, and I wasn’t opposed to greasing a few palms if it meant getting Serena all to myself.
“Italian bureaucracy.” She sighed. “But at least my team will be heading back to the lab on Monday to process some of the more recent findings.”
I tapped my fingers against the desk, considering this new information. “And what about you?”
“I’ll still be here in Lucca for a little longer. I want to finish this piece for the gallery before going back to Rome,” she said. “But I wanted to ask you something. My best friend, Caterina, will be in Florence for the weekend. She recently took a job in London, so we don’t get to see each other very often. When she comes back to Italy to visit her parents, we try to meet up at a place called La Terrazza, our favorite rooftop bar. I was thinking…maybe the two of us can drive to Florence this evening and meet her for dinner? What do you think?”
I smiled to myself, already seeing this as an opportunity to seize control.
“I’d love to,” I said, mentally formulating a plan. “Florence is what? About an hour and a half drive? Let’s spend the night.”
She hesitated for only a moment before seeming to catch on.
“Ahhh, yes. We should absolutely spend the night. I mean, we’ll probably have a few drinks afterall. We wouldn’t want to drink and drive. And I just thought of something else,” she added. “I think you also need to see the Uffizi Gallery, the Duomo, Piazza della Signoria. There’s also the Galleria dell'Accademia. Oh, dear. We might have to spend the whole weekend in Florence.”
I smiled at her playful tone. This was Serena’s way to respectfully escape her watchful, church-going mother.
And I was here for it.
“Dinner tonight with Caterina it is. But after that, I want you all to myself. And Serena,” I added, pausing for effect. “I really hope you don’t plan on visiting any of the places you just named. I have other plans in mind—no dress code required.”
“Noted. I’ll pack light, Mr. Romano.”
Fuck me.
I nearly groaned at the way my name sounded on her lips. I had wanted uninterrupted time, and now I had it. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough.
After the call ended, I shifted my attention back to the computer to book the hotel stay. I wanted somewhere discreet and intimate, luxury without the flash. A large bed was non-negotiable, but that was hard to come by in Italy. I could never understand Europe’s aversion to king-sized beds.
A sharp knock on my hotel room door pulled me from my search. I pushed back from my desk, rolling my shoulders before making my way over. Most likely, it was Zeke. He’d been hard at work doing the research that I’d asked him to do, and I was hoping he finally had some answers for me.
When I opened the door, Zeke stood on the other side with a black folder in his hand. He almost always looked serious, but right then, his somber expression was enough to set my nerves on edge.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping aside so he could come in.
“I got in touch with Hale Fulton like you asked. He found a little more on Serena’s father’s death. The information was limited, so he put me in touch with a contact he has here in Italy. The local guy got me pictures, archived records, and some other info. There’s a lot to go over. Let’s sit down. ”
He let out a short breath and set the folder on the small table near the window. Opening it, he pulled out a photograph.
I glanced down at it. A man I didn’t recognize stared back at me—mid-thirties, dark hair, sharp jawline, attractive. I didn’t know why, but the image of him pissed me off immediately.
I frowned. “Who the hell is this?”
“This is Cade Rosenberg, Serena’s ex-fiancé.”
My jaw tightened as I stared at the photo. Something in my gut twisted. Just the image of him sparked a jealousy so foreign, my hands curled into fists. I hated knowing there was a time when he had touched her—kissed her—or that she might have looked at him the way she sometimes looked at me.
Taking a calming breath, I kept my voice level and asked, “What did you find out about him?”
“Look at the back of his neck,” Zeke said as he flipped through more pictures to reveal a close-up image beneath the original.
It was a tattoo—a symbol that I recognized. The first time I’d seen the twisting shape, it had been spraypainted on the back of Serena’s motel room door in New York. However, I hadn’t realized what it was at the time. I had also seen the symbol scrawled in the margins of Serena’s father’s leather journal. While I hadn’t made the connection to the haphazard paint job at the motel, seeing it now in tattoo form made the link more obvious.
I looked at Zeke, my jaw tight. “What is this symbol?”
Zeke leaned against the table and crossed his arms. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Now that I’ve seen it, I find myself seeing it everywhere. Graffiti in back alleys. Carved into old stone near the Roman Forum.”
“It was also in her father’s research notes—in the journal I took from the motel room.”
“Do you still have it?” he asked .
“I do, but it’s back in New York. I’d meant to bring it with me so that I could return it to Serena, but I forgot it.”
“The symbol is in too many places for me to think this isn’t all connected somehow. Also, your instinct about arsenic is most likely correct. I had a medical examiner in the States look over Carlo Martinelli’s records. While they couldn’t say for sure without an autopsy, every sign points to arsenic poisoning.”
I exhaled slowly.
“So he was murdered?”
“It’s a theory. Could be that Serena’s father, in all his digging into the past, stumbled onto something he shouldn’t have.”
I met Zeke’s gaze. “And what about Cade? Do you think he had something to do with it?”
Zeke shrugged. “I’m still waiting on the background report for him. But I think it’s suspicious as hell that Serena’s father was most likely poisoned and her ex-boyfriend is literally branded with the symbol that was found in her motel and her father’s research notes. Too much doesn’t make sense. At least not yet. I still have more digging to do.”
“I need to tell Serena about the break in. I should ask her about the symbol, too.” I sighed and turned away, dragging a hand through my hair. I didn’t know how to tell her about my suspicions, or why I’d kept all of this from her in the first place. The theories seemed so outlandish. Even worse was adding Cade to the mix. I didn’t know how he fit in either.
I scowled just thinking about him.
What else does she know about him that she hasn’t told me?
Zeke studied me. “You’re pissed.”
I shot him a look and began to pace the room.
“Pissed is not the right word for it. I’m frustrated. I wanted answers, but this only created more questions. I don’t know how to approach Serena about it. I don’t want to stress her if this turns out to be all one big coincidence. But if it’s not, I don’t want to get her involved in something potentially dangerous. ”
I stopped pacing and looked at Zeke. His expression was grim.
“Boss, I hate to break it to you, but I think she’s already in the thick of it.”