Chapter 36
SEBASTIAN
Tonight, there was no turning back.
I poured myself a glass of wine and stood before the newly lit fire in the front salon. The flames slowly consumed the fresh log, turning its outer bark black.
The board had caught wind of the judge’s investigation. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind—my father was behind it. He was making his move.
I could no longer afford to hold back with my plan.
The time was now to halt the investigation and rein in the judge once and for all before the next board meeting. It was now or never.
And to do that…he needed to know Sabrina was under my control.
I studied the cigar in my hand before raising it to my lips and inhaling. Blowing out a puff of blue smoke, I let the pleasant, earthy aroma of the burning tobacco blend with the scent from the fire, finding solace in the quiet destruction.
Sabrina.
The girl had taken me by surprise—not an easy feat.
On paper, she was supposed to be pretty, reasonably intelligent, and obedient to authority figures.
In reality, she was achingly beautiful, with eyes that sparked with creative fire.
She wasn’t just intelligent; she was talented and brilliant, with a mind perfectly suited for our industry.
She had an eye for style, color, and an instinct for trends that would serve the House of Diamanti extremely well.
She was also passionate, sweetly stubborn, and kind.
There wasn’t a person who met her who didn’t fall under her spell.
My staff, both at home and at the office, were completely enamored.
Just this morning, I learned my chef had been leaving the palazzo early each day to get the first choice of pastries from a local bakery—just because he knew Sabrina loved them.
And Florian couldn’t get enough of her. He had already asked to feature her in next year’s holiday campaigns for our primary diamond lines.
She was becoming beloved.
And I hated every minute of it.
Not because I regretted bringing her to Italy, but because I found myself not wanting to share her.
I lacked control, and that didn’t sit well with me.
On more than one occasion, I’d seriously considered simply locking her in the palazzo.
I wanted her light to shine for me and me alone.
The log cracked and popped, drawing my attention back to the flames.
My thoughts had veered in a dangerous direction. They held a warmth of feeling that would make what I had planned more difficult.
Now was not the time to suddenly grow a heart. There was no room for sentimentality in business, especially not a business as ruthless and complicated as mine.
All my attention needed to be on the events of this evening—not on the feel of Sabrina’s skin against my palm or the adorable sound of her moans.
Tonight, I would escort Sabrina to the Teatro dell'Opera di Roma for a performance of Giuseppe Verdi’s Rigoletto. The tragic opera of a hunchbacked court jester attempting to protect his innocent daughter from a corrupt duke’s seduction seemed almost obscenely fitting for what I had planned.
Beforehand, we would attend a small party for the affluent citizens of Rome who supported the opera.
Her father would be in attendance.
The difficulty would be in making sure he recognized Sabrina, who, rather helpfully, closely resembled her mother, without giving him the slightest access to her.
If he wanted to know the truth about his unknown daughter, he would have to come to me.
The mantel clock chimed seven.
After tossing the remains of my cigar into the fire, I buttoned my tuxedo jacket and moved into the central hallway.
The top of the grand marble staircase stood…empty.
Sabrina was not there.
I knew my car had brought her home two hours previously. My staff kept tabs on her for security reasons, and I could also track her through the phone I’d given her.
I scraped the sole of my shoe against the first step. I would drag her out of her bedroom if necessary.
Then, out of the shadows of the upper level, she appeared on the landing.
She wore a flowing winter-white gown, embellished with real diamonds and pearls across the high-necked bodice. Her glossy black hair hung in loose waves over her shoulders, adding to her innocent appeal. She was the very vision of a young bride. Precisely my intention.
She placed one pale hand on the banister and slowly made her way down the stairs toward me.
“Am I late?” she asked softly, her sweet, heart-shaped face turned up to me.
Her makeup couldn’t completely hide the evidence of earlier tears—tears I’d caused.
They weren’t the first and wouldn’t be the last.
I smiled. “Right on time.”
I slipped my hand inside my jacket pocket and pulled out a signature black velvet and gold-trimmed Diamanti jewel box. “A gift.”
“I don’t think that would be appropriate, since this is a business function.”
Sweetly stubborn.
I opened the case to display a pair of cluster diamond chandelier earrings with a large pearl in each center. “Then wear them for the House of Diamanti, not for me.”
Part of me wanted her to object. It would give me the flimsy excuse I needed to throw caution to the wind and abandon all my careful plans for this evening—toss her over my shoulder and carry her to my bed.
She saved both of us by reaching for the earrings with a sigh.
As she put them on, I retrieved her long opera coat in a matching winter-white gabardine.
I held it up as she slipped her arms inside. “Thank you for wearing the outfit I chose.”
She glanced back at me. “Did I have a choice?”
I stroked her cheek before accepting my coat and top hat from a nearby staff member.
Slipping on black leather gloves, I smiled. “No.”
She slid on her own white kid leather gloves and pulled them up her forearms. “Why do you get to say no, but I’m not allowed?”
I nodded to my staff, who opened the palazzo’s double doors to reveal our waiting motorcade. Since my presence tonight had been reported to the public, I’d taken the precaution of arranging additional security.
Placing a proprietary hand at her lower back, I replied, “Because I’m the boss.”
Waving the security guard off, I opened the door for her. After swiping my arm under her long skirt and gently lifting it inside the vehicle, I closed the door and crossed to the other side.
As we settled inside, the motorcade pulled away from the curb.
She turned to me. “Do I at least get to know where we’re going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Her lips turned down.
I couldn’t help but laugh at her adorable, petulant look. “Don’t you like surprises, little one?”
With a huff, she crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. “I used to love them—until you came along.”
“And what have I done to ruin your love of surprises?”
Her head turned to watch as the lights of Rome shimmered past the tinted windows. Her voice was barely more than a sigh. “Because with you, it’s never just an innocent surprise. There always seems to be a hidden, cruel element.”
I chuckled, low and amused. “Oh, sweetheart, if you think I’m cruel now, then you’ve severely underestimated me.”