Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Matteo
“The Bianchi kid is demanding an audience with you.”
From my place looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city alive below me, I smiled.
The Bianchi kid. It had been six years since Gio had taken over his family’s business, and he was still called a kid. No one respected him. Me least of all.
Shrugging, I turned to stare at the man on the other side of my wide, black glass desk.
“Is that so?” Lifting my hands, I straightened my already straight tie. “That’s not new news, Marco.”
The corner of the other man’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t break into a full smile.
“Well, it seems that another of his shipments has gone missing. A pretty big one.”
I gave another shrug. “Gio should take more care with his merchandise, then. I don’t really see how it’s my problem.”
My voice was bored, but inside I was almost singing with glee. Of course, Gio was failing. I had made sure of it. From the moment he had called a hit on my parents and I had taken charge, it had been war between us.
And he was losing.
He would always lose when it came to me. I was smarter, stronger, and more ruthless than he would ever be. I wouldn’t stop until the whole Bianchi family was in the gutter.
The whole fucking family.
Including—
Sophia’s face swam into my thoughts, how she had looked that night I had taken her virginity with her nails clawing my back and her sweet little cries filling my ears.
Shaking the thought away, I fell into my leather chair and closed my hands into fists.
I might hate Gio, even though once upon a time he had been my closest friend, but I hated her more.
“And what does Gio expect me to do?”
“He wants an alliance. Or so he says,” Marco said in a bored voice. “I think his actual words were to build up the friendship you once had and mend old bridges.”
I scoffed loudly before schooling my face back into my signature bored coldness.
Gio was even more stupid than he looked if he thought we had any chance of building anything but pure hatred between us. He had killed my parents. Without proof that it had been my family who had murdered his. He had torn my whole world away from me.
There was no friendship.
“He has nothing I want or need.” I flicked my fingers toward the door. “There is no alliance to be had, and he knows it. Just like he knows that I won’t stop until I’ve destroyed him.”
That was one of the best parts; Gio knew it was me ruining him. Every time something went wrong. I was there, picking up his contacts, fulfilling his shipments when his merchandise went missing. I took every ally he had ever had and made them loyal to me.
In six short years, I had tripled my family's fortune and made us the most powerful family in the city.
And I had left him with scraps.
“Yes, he does, but he still wants a meeting.” Marco fidgeted uncomfortably, and I noticed it right away. “There’s two of his men waiting outside. They want to talk to you.”
My eyebrows arched up. “He’s begging for my help but sends his people to do it for him.” Leaning forward, I steepled my hands together and rested my chin on my fingers. “I tell you what, if he needs my help so badly, he can come here and beg me on my knees in person.”
Grinning, I nodded my head. That sounded like an amazing idea. I could already picture it. I’d make him crawl and beg on his knees.
It would be the ultimate humiliation.
“He’s not in the country.”
My head snapped up, and an uneasy feeling filled my chest. Where was Gio Bianchi? Although knowing him, and his complete lack of understanding of his predicament, he was probably sunning himself on some Sicilian beach with a bimbo or two.
He had never been a good businessman. He was more of a fuck boy than a leader.
No wonder his family was in such shit.
“London, England.”
I did a double-take. That was not what I was expecting.
“And what is he doing there?” I searched my memory. Did we have business there? Did Gio? As far as I knew, there were no prominent Italian families in that city.
Maybe some of our bratva associates? I would have to make some calls and try to find out what Gio’s new game was.
“That’s why his men are here.” Finally, Marco met my eyes. “They are here to talk about a possible alliance. Gio has gone to try and arrange it on his end.”
“Why is he in London?” I punctuated each word, but deep down I already knew.
There was only one person in the world that Gio would offer and think I would agree to.
In a flash, her face filled my thoughts.
“His sister Sophia is there.” Marcos’ eyes met mine, but he kept his face completely neutral. “She’s been there the entire time.”
I reeled back so violently that my chair almost tipped over. At the last minute, I righted myself.
So that’s where she had escaped to six years ago. I’d looked in the beginning. In fact, I had looked everywhere. I had asked Gio over and over again back before he had killed my parents, and his answer was always the same.
She was safe with family. Like a fool, I had thought it was for the best. She would be safer away from me until they found the culprits and brought them to justice.
And then the car bomb had gone off on Gio’s orders, and I knew I was never going to see her again because she knew what he was planning.
Sophia Bianchi had played me, used her sweet face and perfect body to find out my secrets. She had used my weakness for her to—
Again, for the second time in twenty minutes, I forced my mind back on the here and now.
Sophia had left without any explanation. Just minutes after promising she was mine forever, and I had spent the last six years dreaming of ways I could make her pay for that.
Now was my chance to make those dreams a reality.
“You can show them in.”
I didn’t bother standing as Marco opened the door and two men walked in. Both middle-aged. Made men.
“Thank you for seeing us, Don Romano.”
I motioned to the seats opposite me, and they fell into them. Not in a relaxed way. Both of them knew that there were no friends here.
They were literally in the lion's den. One wrong move, and I’d eat both of them alive.
“What can I do for you both today?” Leaning back on my chair, I studied them both before letting my eyes drift around the room. It was all clean lines, complete with glass and silver. A white sectional couch was on one wall next to the bar.
“How can I help you?” My voice dripped with sarcasm. “Drink?”
Not waiting for an answer, I moved around the desk and toward it.
“Don Bianchi,” the younger of the two said as he followed me with his eyes. That was smart. I wouldn’t have taken my eyes from me either. “Misses your friendship.”
“He is proposing an alliance.”
“Yes, I heard, but as I’ve said before several times, I don’t need anything from the Bianchi family. I can’t see any alliance being beneficial to me.”
“Maybe not something you need, maybe something you want. Don Bianchi is offering you…”
“Sophia,” the other finished for him.
The hand I had wrapped around the antique crystal decanter squeezed.
“You cared for her once, didn’t you?” one of the men carried on.
He should have known better than to read my silence for agreement. In fact, he should have run screaming from the room. My silence always meant anger.
In this case, it meant rage.
“She was like a little sister to me,” I lied. Forcing myself to smile, I turned to them. The decanter was forgotten in my hands. “And as far as I am aware, no one has seen or heard of Sophia for years. Is she back in the city?”
I waited for them to lie to me.
“No, she’s not even in the country. Gio is with her now.”
“I see, and he seems to think I would want his sister?”
Neither one of them spoke. We continued to stare at each other. It was like they knew of my old feelings for her. And if they knew it meant Gio knew.
Had he always known?
My eyebrows shot down. No, if he had known of my love affair with Sophia, Gio would have said something at the time.
“And why would Gio think I would need his sister?” Chuckling, I sat. “Or is he really so desperate that he would sell his only blood relation?”
“He is not looking to sell her.” The older of the two leaned forward and drew something from his pocket. By the door, Marco stiffened and reached for his weapon. But it wasn’t a gun being drawn. It was a thick, white envelope.
I waved Marco down and took it.
“And what is this?”
“Pictures of Miss Sophia. We realize it has been several years, and you might not remember quite what she looked like.”
My hand closed around the envelope, but I didn’t open it. Truth was, I would never forget what Sophia looked like. Her face was ingrained in my mind. Everything about her was.
“She is still a beautiful woman. She will make a good wife.”
My head snapped up. “Wait?” I threw up a hand. “What do you mean, wife?”
Gio’s men looked at each other, unease pinching their eyebrows together. “Yes, Don Romano. That is what the Bianchi family is offering…their only daughter and a chance to unite two great families.”
Flipping open the envelope, I pulled the top photo out and stared at it.
There she was, and she was as beautiful as she had been six years ago. Her dark hair was a little shorter and had soft chestnut highlights. Her figure seemed softer and even more inviting than ever, but it was her face that took my breath away.
She was laughing at something off-camera. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips were parted.
Sophia looked happy.
She was happy. Had she even thought about me once in the six years since she had left?
I slammed the picture down on the desk and glared at the two men.
“I am not looking for a wife.” My hand covered her image. “And if I were, it would not be the Bianchi whore.”
Both men bristled in front of me, but neither one of them was brave enough to say anything.
“Rumor has it that she —“ I waggled my eyebrows. “Well, I don’t want to speak badly of the lady, but a woman who isn’t a virgin can’t be my wife. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“She is—“
“No, she isn’t.” I smiled cruelly because a plan was forming in my brain. A cruel plan that would finally bring their family to its knees.
“But I will take Gio’s friendship and his offer of his sister’s company.”
“Gio will be pleased. He has always thought of you like a brother.”
“You misunderstand me. I’ll help Gio, but I won’t marry his sister. I’ll take her as my mistress, though.”
Their startled intake of breath was everything. It was such an insult to their family, just like I knew it would be.
“We will have to speak to Don Bianchi.”
“You do that.” I shrugged. Gio would go for it because he was desperate. But would Sophia?
No, she hated me enough to leave me once. She would never willingly come back to me.
Closing my fist around the decanter, I threw it against the wall the second the door closed.
“Fuck.” Dropping my head into my hands, I stared down at the photos on my desk. Each one of them was of her smiling, beautiful face. A dozen ghosts that had come back to haunt me.
“What do you want me to do, Matteo?” Marco asked quietly.
I sucked in a deep breath and then another one. One finger dragged over her gorgeous face.
Why did she still have to be so beautiful?
It hid all of her sins.
Slowly, I lifted my head. “Arrange for the plane. We are going to England.”
“Would you like me to arrange a meeting with Gio?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care if he is there or not, but yes. I just want to lay eyes on Sophia.”
I wanted to see her happy and smiling for myself, and then I would crush every ounce of happiness from her.