Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Damiano
Calculating the time difference, I realize it's already past midnight in New York.
The club will be packed by now, as it always is.
A part of me wants to call and check everything is running smoothly, but doing something so out of the ordinary would arouse Giorgio's suspicions.
I open my laptop and bring up the security system.
A grid of camera feeds flickers onto the screen. My gaze finds its target immediately.
Violetta moves through the VIP lounge with that effortless grace that brought her to my attention in the first place. She greets everyone she meets warmly. Men watch her as she passes, their eyes following the sway of her hips. I want to blind them for coveting what's mine.
I watch as she heads to the bar to collect a tray of drinks, which she carries across the room to a group of businessmen.
I recognize one of them as Vittorio Bardi, who owns Tuscany's largest car dealership.
She laughs at something he says. When he puts a hand on her arm, pulling her closer, my jaw tightens.
Fortunately, Giorgio is taking the responsibility I placed on his shoulders seriously.
I warned him that if anyone touched my woman while she was at work, I would reconsider giving him a larger role in my organization.
He appears in the frame and directs Violetta to another table.
Then he bends to say something that makes Bardi stiffen.
My eyes find Violetta again, standing by the bar. She adjusts the strap of her dress, then turns to whoever is on duty tonight. I close the laptop as Lorenzo saunters over from the bar with two glasses of Scotch. He hands one to me before dropping onto the armchair opposite.
"What time did Sandro say he'd meet us?" It's the third time Lorenzo has asked. Although he claims to be suffering no ill effects from his concussion, I've never known him to be forgetful.
"Six thirty." I sip my drink as I study him carefully. "Are you sure you shouldn't lie down? It was a long flight."
"Nah!" He waves a dismissive hand. "My head's fine."
His gaze drifts toward the laptop and a grin curves his lips. "Were you checking up on her?"
"No."
The look he gives me shows he doesn't believe that for a second.
"You know, you don't have to marry the girl."
"She's a woman." At twenty-eight, Violetta is mature and capable. She's not some silly girl I picked up for a bit of fun. "And I'm aware I don't."
Lorenzo sits back in his seat. "I'm serious, fratello.”
"I thought the land was important to you."
"It is." Lorenzo stares over the rim of his glass at me. "But not if it gets you all twisted up."
My eyes narrow. "I'm not all twisted up."
"No? You weren't watching her on the security feed just now?"
"I'm checking on my business."
"Sure you are." Lorenzo's grin fades. "It would be good, you know, if you found what I have with Lucia."
"And what do you have with Lucia?"
"Everything." He's pensive for a moment. "A future."
"Isn't it too soon to be talking this way?"
Lorenzo shrugs. "I was certain about Lucia the first time she told me to get lost."
I shake my head. "Never pegged you for a romantic."
He smiles faintly. "I get that from Mamma, I guess."
The mention of our mother twists something inside my chest. Guilt gnaws at me every time I think of her.
I should have freed her from our father's tyranny sooner, before he did irreparable damage to her body and mind. But I was just a boy, too young to stop him. I couldn’t protect her then. I won’t make the same mistake again.
"Have you visited her lately?" I ask.
"No, but I plan to go soon. I'd like Lucia to meet her." It's a sign of just how serious he is about the feisty young chef. "I hate that she always asks about Gabriele, though."
"She misses him."
Gabriele is the middle child, but because our father was grooming me for succession, my younger brother became the sole focus of our mother's world.
"I miss him," Lorenzo admits. "Have you spoken to him at all?"
"Not for a few months. Lukas keeps me updated."
As I think about that, movement near the entrance draws my attention. Alessandro approaches, his wife by his side.
Emilia is even more striking in person than she appeared during our video calls.
Her figure is petite and she carries herself with an innate elegance.
Chestnut brown hair falls in glossy waves over her shoulders.
Her deep brown eyes are dark and expressive.
There's no denying her beauty, but I find myself comparing her to Violetta and Emilia comes up short.
Lorenzo and I rise to greet my cousin and his wife. I hug Alessandro, then kiss Emilia's cheeks.
"It's nice to meet you at last," she says warmly.
"And you."
We take our seats as a waitress arrives with a chilled bottle of champagne and four glasses.
"Shall I pour?" She addresses the question to Emilia.
"No, thank you. We'll handle it when the moment is right."
The waitress nods and quickly withdraws.
"When the moment is right?" I ask. "Are we celebrating something?"
Without meaning to, I let my gaze drift to her stomach. Emilia laughs.
"I'm not pregnant." She glances lovingly at Alessandro. "Not yet."
"Then what is the occasion?" I look to my cousin but he shakes his head.
"This is all Emilia."
"Sounds intriguing," Lorenzo says.
Emilia takes a breath. "I want out."
I frown, not sure what she's referring to. "Out?"
"Yes. I want no part of my grandfather's legacy."
Her grandfather left her control of his territory along the Amalfi Coast. Until his assassination she hadn't even been aware he was a mafia boss.
Her reluctance to be involved in his business has been clear from the start.
Lorenzo and I have been running things for her, taking a percentage of the profits for our trouble.
"So what do you propose?" If she wasn't family, we would simply take the territory from her. But she's Alessandro's wife. I have to admit, even if she wasn't married to my cousin, I'd be loath to screw a good woman like her over.
"I want you to buy me out."
"You've already delegated control to us," Lorenzo points out. "It's not like you're on the streets waging war on your enemies."
"True." Emilia's voice remains steady. "But I don't want any connection to it."
"Do you have a figure in mind?"
She meets my gaze. "Thirty-two million dollars."
"What?"
"Thirty-two million." Emilia nods decisively. "For my grandfather's entire organization."
"Why that specific amount?" Lorenzo asks. It's a ridiculously low figure.
"There's some property I wish to acquire." She glances nervously at Alessandro, who nods encouragingly. "And there is something else I want from you."
"And what is that?"
"I'd like you to donate ten percent of the profits from my grandfather's territory to charity each year."
It's a request I can accommodate. "Any specific charity in mind?"
"Something that supports women and children."
"Emilia is impressed by the community center Giulia is opening. She wishes to support similar ideas in her homeland." Alessandro's pride in his wife is obvious.
"And you're comfortable with this?" Lorenzo asks.
Our cousin nods. "It's what Emilia wants, and it's not like we're hurting for cash."
"And Antonio?" I can't imagine the head of their branch of the family being happy with this development.
"He agrees it's Emilia's decision," Alessandro says. "It's not as though we don't have other European avenues to explore."
"That's true," I agree. We are always keen to work with our American cousins and now Olivia is marrying Piotr Reznov, that gives them another way to further their business interests. I glance at Lorenzo and he nods.
"Okay." I get to my feet and extend a hand to Emilia. "We have a deal."
She practically jumps out of her seat to shake my hand enthusiastically.
"Thank you, Damiano. Thank you so much."
I chuckle at her eagerness. "I should be thanking you, Emilia. This is an advantageous deal for me."
"Financially, maybe, but you have no idea the weight you've lifted from my shoulders."
Lorenzo pops the cork on the bottle of champagne and pours four glasses. He passes them out and I raise mine in a toast.
"To you, Emilia. May this deal allow you to explore a new chapter in life."
Emilia blushes and moves a touch closer to her husband's side as we all clink our glasses together. She's a sweet woman but lacks the fiery spirit I find myself admiring more and more in Violetta.
We drink our champagne, discuss the arrangements to finalize our deal, and then Alessandro and Emilia leave. As I sink into my chair once more, Lorenzo drifts over to sit at the bar.
Left alone again, I open the laptop. The camera grid appears on screen.
Once again, I find Violetta quickly. She's leaning over a table, speaking to a group of women.
She nods and walks away, heading for the staff-only door.
Just before she reaches it, she pauses. She lifts her head and looks directly at the camera.
She touches two fingers to her lips and blows a kiss as if she knows I'm watching.
Interesting. It seems my little vixen likes to play.