Chapter 7
Mario
My father gave me one night of peace. But that was only because he was calculating the best way to ruin the plans I’d made. Though instructed to rest by a doctor, and one stubborn, but cute veterinarian, I needed to remain one step ahead of my enemies. And that included my father.
One of those steps was to provide Allie the armor she needed to disable the enemies she’d inherited from me.
“I can’t wear this.” She plucked at the shimmering pale gold sheath dress hugging every curve of her body.
The rejection rack was more crowded than the begrudgingly accepted one.
“It looks exceptional on you.” I especially liked the deep slit that flashed her bare leg.
Her head tipped sarcastically at me. “If you’d just let me call my sister, I’d have my things and—”
The couture stilista didn’t hide her thoughts on the matter. A string of rapid-fire judgments about Allie’s style flew from her lips. None of it registered on Allie, but they gouged deep in my heart.
Allie was not plain, nor provincial. She was classic, reserved, and strong of both mind and heart.
Despite orders from both my physician and a beautiful veterinarian, I stood. “Enough.”
Everyone except Allie froze. She hurried to my side and hissed, “Sit down before you fall down.” Her hand rested on my hip bone, just below the line of stitches.
Under my breath, I corrected her. “It doesn’t hurt.” To soften the rebuke, I pulled her hand to my lips. “Trust me.”
Her nostrils flared, but she knew better than to argue with me in front of the small army who’d invaded our temporary home.
“It is obvious my wife prefers a more classic look. She has refined needs. Judging by the choices she’s made, she prefers comfort, utility, and timelessness, not whimsy. Think royalty, not vulgarian.”
With the fanfare of a carnival barker, the stylist brought in two more racks of clothing. The existing ones, save for the few core pieces Allie chose, were whisked away.
In the end, she chose an elegant, muted-sage dress. It was clean-lined with a hint of softness at the neckline where it draped artfully without exposing more than her collarbone. Her honey-blonde hair curled slightly over one shoulder and rested on her chest, daring me to touch.
I conveyed my approval with a nod and only a small tightening of my mouth toward a smile. I longed to see her in a summer garden, accented in the filtered light of a winery trellis.
Her smile was larger. Confidence squared her shoulders, and she held her head like a queen. My queen.
The gold of my ring on her finger glinted on her finger.
Yes, she should have more jewelry. But the solitary piece was a brand, a signal to the entire world that this woman was mine. Heir to a brutal legacy, and owner of my soul.
If I had one.
“We’ll need travel clothes as well. Let her pick at least three outfits to tide us over until she can connect with her luggage.”
My words made an eyebrow go up. I hadn’t outright promised her she could talk to her sister, but I wouldn’t rule it out. She wasn’t my prisoner, but it was safer for everyone if she remained close. At least until I worked out an amicable solution with my hard-headed father.
Tonight’s meal with him would not go well.
He had been the one to suggest my marriage to Dianora. An alliance between his banking and shipping interests and their multi-faceted empire would elevate him into legendary circles.
The world was not enough for some people.
At the time, I wasn’t fighting the union, nor was I helping it along. I’d reached out to Dianora’s brother mere days ago to suggest a solution that didn’t result in marriage to his conniving sister.
And without any schemes on my part, I’d found one.
Of course, that didn’t change the facts. Her brother, Adelmo, was dead. I was blamed for his demise, and to complicate things, my bride was not Dianora, but this golden siren with her forward, but humble, no-nonsense approach to life.
This respite came with strings. Ones my father was undoubtedly working on ways to manipulate.
Marrying Allie may have severed his current puppetry, but he was a master of diplomacy. A weapon so cruel and subtle, it was a challenge to outwit.
For that, I needed an ally. One who lived to keep my father under control. I left Allie to the whims of the stylist and reached out to the only other person who I trusted.
When he picked up the extension, I greeted him warmly. “Aiaiu.” Grandfather. He was my mother’s father. She had been his youngest and favorite child. And me? The spoiled son of a man who never answered for his transgressions.
“Mario. It has been too long since I’ve heard your voice.”
“I’m sorry, Grandfather.”
“You’re never sorry. What ill wave washed you to your father’s doorstep and not mine?”
Damn it. He knew. He was supposed to be retired and blissfully enjoying life outside of the family drama. “I married.”
My grandfather made a harsh noise, one that told me he didn’t like this change. I’d need to tread lightly.
“I would ask to introduce her to you.”
His silence wasn’t comforting. “The timing for your introduction is dire, I assume?”
It was. By now, the seasoned professionals in my circle would know I’d escaped the U.S. and landed here. And I was certain my father contacted Dianora’s agents to press for another negotiation. Meanwhile, if Grandfather kept that close of an eye on the business, he’d expect me to come to him.
“Yes.”
“I will leave today. Loppa will arrange a flight. It will spare you the stormy seas and winding roads. Both are filled with too many potholes and assassins.” His tone was too abrupt to argue with.
“Be careful. They’ll be watching the airports. The contract is twelve million as of last night. No one around me is safe.”
He laughed. “My grandson, are you trying to compete with me? When I kidnapped your grandmother, the price was fourteen. And that was without inflation. Twelve. Ha!” With that, the line went dead.
I smiled at the memory of my grandmother. Both her and my mother were vibrant women, with a light inside that rarely dulled. Grandfather guarded them greedily and gave each a ring bearing his family crest. My grandmother was buried with hers.
The empty place on my pinky itched. I’d given my mother’s ring to Allie. Right or wrong, I’d have to answer for that.
Firenze, Loppa’s daytime replacement, knocked on the open door. “Your father wants to see you.”
Of course he did. I joined him in his library. The small windows set deep in the wall barely revealed open sky. The meager light inside matched the overcast that had swept in overnight. I sat, not waiting for an invitation.
I shouldn’t require one.
He steepled his fingers, assessing my weaknesses. “Where is your bride?”
“I left her with the fashion stylist.”
Something calculating moved in the reflections in his eyes. “How much money are you planning to waste on that woman?”
“Not nearly as much as your choice would have cost me.”
He frowned. “You found a peasant to replace the heir to one of the oldest families in Europe.”
A soft tsk escaped my lips. I expected a dressing down, not direct insults. “Did you skip the background check on my wife?”
My father’s face tightened. “Her ancestry doesn’t change anything. American legacies are meaningless.” His hand waved the thought away as if it were a pesky insect.
Careful, Father, your prejudice is showing. “And the old money in Europe is bound to too many headaches.”
“Old money is safe. Non-volatile, and real.” He pulled a page out of the stack of documents in front of him. “Four creditors, including your betrothed, have filed claims to your bride’s wealth.”
“Only four?” I would have thought the number higher.
“One is the U.S. Government. That should be enough to pauper her and her posterity for at least five generations.”
This was about him, and his insecurities, not me or Allie. “How much do you owe Don Conti?”
My father stood up abruptly. “You do not talk to me like that!”
Right. God forbid anyone finds out a criminal family is connected to the Minister of Trade. Would it be a surprise to anyone? He married my mother for those connections. He was attempting to marry me off for more connections.
“If you’re so worried about money, you should have dug a little deeper into my betrothed’s family.” The Conti family was in debt. Urgent debt. And the loss of their heir apparent threatened to expose it.
I’d done my research. With my personal wealth and the family wealth, Dianora Conti could extinguish the rumors about her father’s inconsistencies and her dead brother’s ineptitudes.
In America, I’d offered to bail out Adelmo’s debt in order to spare my family's fortune from Dianora’s greedy clutches. But he was too timid to take my offer without talking to his father first.
And for that, everyone thought I’d taken his indecision as an insult. I hadn’t. It was sheer chance he’d run that red light.
But whoever hit him didn’t stick around. And that damned me.
My father paced. “Someone has to worry. I can’t afford to simply murder anyone who irks me.”
“Careful, Father. You might worry yourself into an early grave.”
“I suppose you’d put me there?”
As tempting as the idea was, I would never do that. “That would be against the code.” Honor the family and your elders were some of the first lessons.
His eyes narrowed. “Let me remind you that breaking a marriage contract goes against the code as well.”
“I didn’t offer a contract to the Contis, nor did I sign it.” This was not my dishonor.
“You didn’t have to,” he reminded me. “All it took was my word.”
“Yes, yours. Not mine.” I leaned in to drive home a point that was sorely necessary.
“My signature binds me to a different marriage contract. What a shame. You’ll have to eat crow.
” I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic, but my father’s disrespect irritated me.
He had only married into the family, therefore was not bound to the code.
My father had an answer at hand. He pulled a document from its binder. “The annulment agreement.”
It dropped in front of me. I read the words and understood all too clearly the game afoot. I’d handed him the key myself. Father knew I wasn’t in any shape to cement the union. He’d secured the doctor himself, not the family’s more discreet physician.
Damn Ringo all to Hell. Without even wanting to, he’d delivered me to the noose. I needed to find him, convince him to lie about the timing of his attack. If it happened after the wedding, I could argue the marriage could not be annulled so easily. But what would that prove?
Nothing.
All my father needed to do was to hand Allie this piece of paper. The terms were clearly spelled out in both English and Italian. We hadn’t consummated the marriage, and the annulment was as simple as signing on the dotted line.
My life, my fortune, and my fate was in the hands of a woman who barely knew me.
And with Allie’s signature, she’d deliver me to someone worse. My money was a side dish to Dianora’s true intent. She adored power. Marrying me would consolidate her hold on the region.
And Dianora would demand heirs. Plural. At least two, in case one met an untimely demise like her brother had.
The thought of fucking that woman made me ill. Especially now that I’d tasted something sweet.
I placed both hands on his desk, being meticulous about their distance from the page staring at me. I stood up, using the leverage of leaning across the furniture to stare my father in the eye. “You’re too late. I’ve slept with Allie.”
The corner of his eye flinched. “Lie all you want. Until there’s a grandchild, this marriage did not happen.”
My fingers curled under, forming fists. “If there is a grandchild, you will never meet it.” I didn’t storm out. That would indicate I cared about him.
But I couldn’t be in his presence any longer. I left him to his papers and diplomacy.
Loppa joined me on the terrace. He took point, scanning the surroundings for threats.
The rooftops of Milan spread out in a patchwork of old world and towering glass.
The multiple spires of the Duomo poked upward with their marble saints stoically watching the city.
The Maddonina glittered golden above them all.
I stared at the shining symbol, wondering whether I’d always been my father’s cat’s-paw, or if this was some new torment I’d somehow earned through my lack of faith.
Loppa’s low baritone broke into my musing. “It’s cold up here.”
I nodded, barely acknowledging his attempt to coax me inside. I’d rested as much as I could, and was no longer burning up from the inside. Now, I prepared for a battle. My body might not yet be ready, but my mind was.
“Reach out to Ringo.”
He stopped scanning the rooftops to scowl at me with confusion. “Why?”
“Because, if I know him well enough, he’s probably secured my wife’s sister and will be seeking a trade to draw me out. Set it up.”
“Or, you could simply let your wife call her sister and find out if Ringo is with her. Then, cut his legs out from under him when you reunite them.”
The prospect of hobbling Ringo brought joy to his face.
And I’ll admit, the concept amused me, too. “I could.”
“She’d appreciate it more than the clothing.” He tipped his head at the penthouse.
His observation was astute.
“How much of the conversation with my father did you overhear?”
He grunted a short laugh and a quirked brow. “Enough.”
I waited, because he had more to say.
“And if you’re serious about your child never seeing that bastard, then you might want to please your wife. Otherwise…” He weighed one hand against the other and came up empty on both ends.
I shook my head and took a deep breath of the bracing air. My skin stung where Ringo cut me. A sign I shouldn’t and couldn’t be entertaining Loppa’s fancy in the near future. But I was ready to leave this viper’s den. “When is Don Manca due?”
He dipped his head. “After you stop making yourself sniper bait, I’ll find out.”
“While you’re finding out, I’ll be with my wife… pleasing her.”
Loppa slapped me on the back, then led me by the neck into the penthouse. He’d done that to me when I was younger and he’d worked for my grandfather. Before he left, he slipped me Allie’s phone. “This might help.”