Chapter 19
SEBASTIAN
“It’s official. You’re fucked.”
Benedict Cavalieri tossed an intelligence file onto my desk before lowering his tall frame into one of the burgundy leather chairs opposite me. The leather creaked faintly under his weight.
We sat in the executive office of the Parisian flagship store of the House of Diamanti, a space reserved for my private use.
Watery sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, trying to break through the gray clouds, which hinted at an impending storm.
The grandeur and squalor of Paris sprawled beyond the glass.
Leaning forward, I spun the leather portfolio to face me and opened it.
“I didn’t know you were in Paris. Is Liliana with you?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral and perusing the documents.
Benedict’s lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, but close. “Matteo is looking after her and Ella while they meet with some gallery owners about lining up guest lectures for the Cavalieri School of Art and Music.”
The Cavalieri girls’ latest project involved turning a family home on the piazza into a school. Through donations, it would be tuition-free and include art and music programs for the entire village.
I admired their work and their close-knit family dynamic. There were times when I longed for a quieter life in the Italian countryside than the one I led in the harsh spotlight in Rome.
“Remind me to send them a check on behalf of the House of Diamanti.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I doubt Milana would let you forget.”
Milana Cavalieri, Benedict’s nephew Cesare’s wife, was an absolute taskmaster of a product manager for their property investment businesses.
All the Cavalieri men had married talented, intelligent women who were passionate and loyal.
And all the Cavalieri men spoiled their women rotten.
Liliana, Benedict’s wife, had led an extremely sheltered and solitary life before meeting him. Now he went to extraordinary lengths to indulge her whims, softening the edges of her past with every gesture.
The parallels between Liliana and Sabrina were not lost on me.
While Sabrina hadn’t been raised in a convent like Liliana, her overprotective mother had smothered her in a different way, depriving her of life’s adventures.
I leaned back in my chair as I recalled her feisty reaction to my attempt to keep her in my hotel room. She might have been sheltered, but she wasn’t cowed.
Refocusing on the documents, a quick scan revealed details of a web of maneuverings I needed to untangle. Sabrina’s name appeared within the lines, her role written in sharp, precise strokes that reduced her to nothing more than a pawn.
But as I stared at the file, her face slipped into my thoughts, uninvited.
She wasn’t supposed to matter.
She was a complication, tangled in the enemy’s web.
And yet…
What would it be like to spoil her? To see her face light up with delight?
This was madness. She was part of a game I couldn’t afford to lose.
If these documents were accurate, Judge Delluci was moving forward with his intentions of declaring my business a mafia organization. I needed to make a move before that information became common knowledge.
The last thing I needed was scrutiny of how I controlled my business.
My control had always been my greatest weapon, the armor I allowed no one to pierce.
I stood abruptly and walked to the window, shoving my hands into my pockets. Control was all that mattered. Always.
Turning, I gestured toward the portfolio, referring to the dense legal text and international banking codes. “How accurate is the intel?”
Benedict leaned back, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “I’d say it’s better than most.”
In this first maneuver, Judge Delluci had discreetly ordered the Guardia di Finanza to launch an investigation into the House of Diamanti.
Unlike the Carabinieri, Italy’s fiscal police carried a reputation for precision and ruthlessness.
They were deeply respected, but more importantly, feared.
They had nearly taken down Gucci and probed both Armani and Dior.
The documents Benedict had obtained painted a grim picture—this investigation was far more comprehensive and far more dangerous than I expected.
Heightening the urgency to secure Sabrina as my intended bride.
The judge would be forced to back the fuck off.
Benedict pulled a surveillance photo of Sabrina from the file, his expression unreadable.
He held it up, studying me as much as the image. “Have you made contact yet?”
“You could say that I’ve made contact,” I replied, my voice carefully neutral.
“She’s pretty,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his tone.
I took the photo from him, my gaze lingering on her image. Pretty was the wrong word. She was striking.
Clearing my throat, I sat back down, tossing the photo onto the portfolio. “The surveillance photos don’t do her justice.”
Benedict smirked, leaning back. “So, it’s like that, is it?”
I slammed the portfolio shut, the sound echoing through the room. “It’s like nothing. It’s business.”
Raising his hands in mock surrender, he replied, “If you say so.”
“You’re not going to try to talk me out of my plan?”
He shrugged, interlacing his fingers across his chest. “Worked for Matteo.”
Matteo, his son, had recently resolved a precarious situation with the Sicilian mafia through a hastily arranged marriage to Ella Fichera, a capo’s daughter. It had been my inspiration for the judge and his unknown, secret daughter, Sabrina.
He looked over his shoulder at the closed office door. “Is this room secure?”
“Swept for bugs twice a day.”
“Are you certain you don’t want to take care of the situation the old-school way?”
Killing the judge.
“Rafaello said the same thing yesterday.”
“I’m just saying. Marriage is a permanent solution.”
“So is murder.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to fuck your murder victim beforehand and pretend to like it.”
I arched my eyebrow. “Trust me, I won’t be pretending with Sabrina.”
“So it will be a sweet revenge, not a cold one.”
“Something like that.”
He tilted his head as he searched my face. “You know the family appreciates the sacrifice you’re making. You wouldn’t be in this mess with the judge if it weren’t for us.”
The Cavalieris were a second family to me.
I’d do anything to protect them.
Not for a moment did I regret stepping in to help Matteo when the judge had his henchman kidnap Ella. Not for one single fucking moment. Even if it brought down the judge’s wrath and retribution.
“I made my decision. I have no regrets. Besides, we both know that secrets don’t remain hidden forever. Sooner or later, the shit my father and grandfather pulled was going to come back to bite me in the ass.”
“Well, if this plan of yours goes tits up, there’s always Plan B.”
I laughed. “According to Rafaello, Plan B is him taking a crack at Sabrina. So yours will have to be Plan C.”
Rafaello only suggested it to be amusing. Still, that didn’t account for my visceral reaction to the idea of him, or any other man, putting their hands on Sabrina.
I leaned back, staring at the closed portfolio, my mind churning before I shook off the momentary stab of jealousy.
édouard would rescind his job offer to Sabrina soon.
I needed to be there to catch her when she left.
Tapping the portfolio, I nodded to Benedict. “Thank you, as always, my friend. Give my love to the others.”
He rose and stretched out his arm to shake my hand. “Are we going to see you for the holidays in a few months? Rosa will be making her saffron zuppa di pesce, and you know she only trusts you to fry the baccalà.”
Rosa was the beloved housekeeper for the Cavalieris, who was more nonna than staff member, and she was an amazing cook. Her Feast of the Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve was legendary, even if it was more of an American custom than Italian.
I smiled. “Count on it.”
He tilted his head and winked. “Perhaps you should wait to say yes for when you can ask your new wife.”
My wife.
Sabrina.
If all went according to plan, we’d be married by Christmas.
I patted him on the back as I escorted him to the office door. “We’ll be there.”
Even once we were married, I had no intention of altering my life in any way.