Chapter Four #3
He wanted to drown her in romance, pretend to be the besotted fool all just to convince her that she had him dangling on her hook. He wanted nothing to jeopardise his own plan of vengeance.
‘What do you think?’ Enzo asked Rin now.
‘It’s...’ She swallowed. ‘Very romantic,’ she said as if it was anything but.
‘Just what I was aiming for,’ Enzo replied truthfully.
He passed her a flute and raised his in a toast.
‘To all the fun and adventures we are about to embark on, together. To us!’
‘To us,’ she repeated and when she went to take a sip, he stopped her with an ‘op!’
She paused, the glass an inch from delectably pink lips.
He adopted an expression that could only be read as ‘ silly girl ’, and held out his arm in a hook.
It seemed to take her a moment to realise that she was supposed to weave her arm around his and that they were to sip together.
But the nauseated look that crossed her features for just a second was an utter delight to him and worth every moment of the ridiculous act.
An act that brought her close enough for him to see the swallow of her throat as she took a sip, the breeze bringing just a trace of the complex heady scent she wore.
Cirtus and pepper. Sharp and hot.
He liked it. It suited her.
‘So,’ he said, pulling out a chair for her at the small table, already laid with crostini covered in mouthwatering toppings, ‘tell me about this project that would have stolen you away from me,’ he commanded with mock officiousness as he took the seat opposite.
‘What do you want to know?’
What you’re after , he thought.
‘Everything,’ he replied instead. He could find out of course—at the drop of a hat.
There were any number of highly skilled and extremely discreet investigators he could turn to.
But Enzo felt somehow as if that would be cheating.
And besides, he wanted to know what she would tell him.
But he was sure that her excuse hadn’t been some whim, some easy lie.
He couldn’t exactly explain why, but there had been something about it, about her, that had rung true .
‘I...’
Was she going to continue the charade or give him something real? He was almost on the edge of his seat.
‘I have an opportunity to purchase a company I’ve been looking at for quite some time.’
Oh really. Was she just laying foundations for the long con to relieve him of his well-earned money? Or was there something genuine here?
‘It probably wouldn’t mean much to you,’ she said, as if he could not understand such sentimentality.
‘It’s just a small, floundering publishing company whose name few remember.
But it was excellent once,’ she said, the smile gracing her lips both sad and beautiful at the same time.
He’d not seen her wield this one before.
‘It published crime novels full of murder and mystery from authors all over the world.’
‘You like these books,’ Enzo saw.
‘Yes,’ she replied, nodding her head definitively.
‘Why?’ he couldn’t help but ask.
She hesitated, as if choosing her words.
‘I like... I like that the murder is symptomatic of something that is inherently wrong with society,’ she said, surprising him a little with her philosophy.
‘I like that it reflects a societal failing that has resulted in the death of the victim. That while the detective can identify the criminal, the murderer, whose reasons are almost always selfish, he can also point to a moral failing inherent in society.’
He wondered if she realised that her syntax had changed. Her use of language. This, Enzo was beginning to suspect, was the real Erin Carter. And he was just a little frustrated, because this Erin, he might have actually have enjoyed even more.
‘That is important to you? Moral judgement?’ Enzo asked, trying to keep the scepticism out of his voice. This seemed to run so contrary to everything about Rin’s scheme to marry him and use him for his money.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Is it not to you?’
‘I think we may have different morals,’ he replied, using a smile to cover his reaction to her audacity.
‘Does your publisher do any other genres?’
She struggled to hold onto her smile. ‘It’s not my publisher yet.’
‘But it will be. Of that I am sure. I can see the determination in your eyes,’ he said, gesturing to her with his glass. ‘How did you come to know of it?’ Enzo asked, wanting to hear a little more of this Erin Carter.
Erin shifted in her seat. She probably shouldn’t have told him about Charterhouse. It was too personal. Too real. But she had started, and now she couldn’t quite unring that bell.
‘I knew the family who once owned it. I’ve been...notified the current owner is willing to sell.’
‘It means a lot to you,’ he observed.
She nodded, knowing her voice would break if she spoke.
Charterhouse had been in her family for generations before her father sold it, when she was fifteen.
It hadn’t just been a business to her. It hadn’t just been financial.
Her grandfather and great-grandfather, and even great-great-grandfather had loved the business.
Using local printers, employing local artists, but publishing all around the world.
And yes, while she understood that there were better business models, quicker, cheaper, they were also heartless and soulless and that was exactly what she didn’t want.
But her father had sold it to cover the debts he had incurred with the many side hustles he had ventured for, all just to avoid putting in the work that Charterhouse needed.
He had always chased the big break, the quick buck, bouncing from one failed idea to the next, uncaring of the impact on anyone else around him.
She didn’t need Charterhouse to make huge amounts of money, she just needed it to make enough so that she could put the things her father had wronged to rights.
When we get Charterhouse back, everything will be okay.
‘Well, then how could I possibly compete with such a heart project?’ Enzo said, tilting his head to one side, making her feel as if he were studying her, watching for her reaction.
You aren’t , she thought. You are my way of securing it.
‘You must do whatever it takes to secure it,’ Enzo insisted.
‘You think?’ she asked, knowing that he was utterly unaware of the implications of what he was saying.
‘Oh absolutely. Whatever it takes.’
She nodded. Okay then. Whatever it takes. She would be everything Enzo Rossetti expected in a lover—spoilt, rich, silly—to get him to take their relationship to a more serious, permanent, level for Step Five; getting what she wanted.