Chapter 11
MARCO
I pace my office like a caged animal, the term "guardian" still making my skin crawl.
What the hell was Gabriella thinking?
I'm not some goddamn babysitter for a child.
When I called Antonio, I couldn't bring myself to use that word. "I'll be her protector," I told him instead. "She'll be under my watch at all times." The words felt more appropriate, considering our history.
The intercom buzzes. "Don Calabresi, Miss Monti has arrived."
My stomach tightens.
This arrangement is a mistake, but it's too late to back out now.
I exit my office to meet her at the door.
As I reach the foyer, I stop.
Gabriella strides into my home like she owns it, chin high, eyes challenging. Frank follows behind carrying a suitcase.
"Don Calabresi." Frank nods respectfully.
“Frank. You can put those down," I tell him, gesturing to a corner of the room. "My staff will take them to Miss Monti's quarters."
Frank hesitates, looking to Gabriella for confirmation.
Even her father's underboss defers to her.
It's no wonder she thinks she can bend the world to her will.
"It's fine, Frank," she says. "Thank you for the ride."
“Stephano will show you to your room,” I tell her, summoning one of my men with a quick gesture.
Gabriella’s eyes narrow as if she knows I’m purposefully avoiding her.
I hate that she can see through me.
"Frank and I have business to discuss." I keep my voice neutral, professional. "Maria is upstairs to help you unpack and get settled."
Once they're gone, I motion Frank into my office and close the door.
"Drink?" I offer, moving to the crystal decanter on my desk.
"Thank you, Don Calabresi." Frank accepts the glass with a respectful nod.
I settle behind my desk, studying Antonio's underboss.
He's been loyal for decades, a man Antonio trusts implicitly. I need to respect that.
“How is Antonio?” I ask.
“He’s the same.”
"I've doubled protection at the warehouse on Porter Street and implemented new verification protocols for all cash transactions." I take a sip of whiskey. "And I've put my best men on monitoring his accounts."
Frank looks up, surprise in his eyes. “You have access to his accounts?”
“He’s vulnerable now, Frank. I’m more worried about his money than I am his warehouses. Someone is targeting him, and we need to protect him until Luca gets his head out of his ass and comes home.”
“Of course.”
"These measures stay in place until January. By then, I hope we’ll have identified who's targeting him." I lean forward. "I need your help, Frank. You're his eyes and ears when I can't be there."
He bristles. “I’ve always been there for Don Monti.”
“I wasn’t insinuating you weren’t. I’m just pointing out that you’re the next line of defense.”
He nods but still seems suspicious of me.
I wonder if Gabriella has filled his head with all the nonsense about my taking over Antonio’s territory.
"Antonio was there for me when no one else was. I owe him this."
Frank finishes his drink and sets his glass on my desk. "Thank you for the drink, Don Calabresi. I'll make sure things run smoothly on our end."
I wait until Frank reaches the door, then clear my throat. "One more thing."
He turns, hand on the doorknob. "Yes, Don Calabresi?"
"Luca. Any word on when he might be coming back?"
His jaw tightens as if he’s as annoyed by Luca’s absence as I am. “As far as I’m aware, Luca will remain in Italy for the time being.”
“Has Antonio shared with him what’s going on?”
Frank shakes his head. “I believe Miss Monti has, but Don Monti says our Italian connections need the Monti presence."
Proud fool, I think of Antonio.
I’m sure he’s minimizing his issues with Luca.
Perhaps he thinks Gabriella is overreacting. Or maybe he just likes Italy and doesn’t want to come home.
I drain my glass. "Thank you, Frank. That will be all."
After he leaves, I sit back in my chair, wondering how I can do more to bring Luca home. If he were here, he could be Gabriella’s guardian.
I close my eyes, wondering how I’ve ended up in a situation in which she’s under my roof, still suspicious of me and my intentions toward her family’s business.
I rub my temples, feeling a headache forming.
I know I have little choice.
Having her here is the only way to ensure she doesn't sabotage everything I'm trying to do for her father.
Whatever game Gabriella is playing, I need to stay one step ahead.
Pushing Gabriella out of my mind, or at least trying to, I refocus on my work.
The whiskey bottle calls to me.
I pour another finger, then stop myself. I can’t afford to dull my wits with Gabriella in my home.
My phone buzzes with a message from Roman.
How's it going with your new houseguest?
I don't respond. What would I say?
That having her under my roof makes me feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff?
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts.
Before I can answer, the door swings open, and there is Gabriella, her arms filled with folders and loose papers.
“It’s late,” I say tersely.
She ignores me, kicking the door closed behind her and dumping her papers on my desk. “We’ve only got a week. I figured we should get started."
I raise an eyebrow. "Started on what, exactly?"
"Finding out who's targeting my father." She begins spreading papers across my desk. "I've been collecting information for months."
I scan the documents. Financial records, surveillance photos, meeting notes. She's been busy.
"Your FBI friend give you all this?" I ask, picking up a grainy photo of one of Antonio's businesses.
“That information is on my phone, but it’s similar to what I have here.”
“Proof I’m out to steal your family business.” My blood runs cold as I see photos of me meeting with Antonio's captains, documents showing transfers between our businesses, all of it legitimate but skewed to make me look guilty.
She meets my gaze, her eyes clear and direct. "I'm not sure what to believe anymore. That's why I'm here."
She still suspects me but apparently is going to give me the benefit of the doubt. Or she wants me to dig myself into a deeper hole.
“How do I know you’re not going to skew everything into your warped belief that I’m out to hurt your father?”
“You don’t. And I have no reason to trust that you won’t skew the information to hide your true intentions, but here we are.” She taps the table impatiently. "Show me what I'm missing. Show me who else wants my father ruined."
I study her face, searching for deception, but see only determination.
As irritating as she is, I have to admire how she’s willing to risk everything, including her life, to protect her father.
"All right," I concede. "Let's see what you've got."
I sift through her notes and records, most of which I recognize as the work I’ve done with Antonio.
I point to a document. “He signed this and you still think I’m—”
“We both know my father can be manipulated.”
And she believes I’d do that.
I resist pressing my hand over my chest to rub the stab of pain there. “And you think I’d do that.”
I look down at the papers so she doesn’t see how much that bothers me. “Good to know.”
“It almost sounds as if I hurt your feelings.”
“I’m soulless, remember?” I say, tossing her words about me back at her.
“Marco…”
I wave away whatever she might say. “What did Blackwood give you?”
She purses her lips at me but pulls out her phone, and after a few taps, hands it to me.
I go over the information.
I have to admit, it’s compelling.
“I can see why you’d believe him, but this is all bullshit.”
She arches a brow. “It’s partially bullshit, at least.”
“The question is, how’d he get this? It isn’t from a warrant.” For me, it’s proof that there still must be someone on the inside feeding Blackwood information, and Blackwood is using it to manipulate people he thinks he can turn against the family.
Gabriella nods. "Someone's feeding him information."
"Not just anyone. Someone with access to La Corona's inner workings."
The question is, is this someone from my business?
After all, I’ve got access to Antonio’s business so my men could be behind this.
Or is it one of Antonio’s men?
And is this a part of what Salvatore was up to before Roman killed him or is this something completely different?
She slides closer, and the scent of her perfume momentarily distracts me. "I've been thinking the same thing. Look at these." She pulls out surveillance photos. “These were meetings that weren’t on any schedule. Last-minute. And yet someone knew exactly when and where to be."
My jaw tightens as I study the photos. “Has he turned our men or did they plant a man?”
“Whoever it is, it’s someone with access to financial records, meeting schedules, security protocols." Gabriella's fingers brush mine as she reaches for a document, and I force myself not to react. "Could be anyone in La Corona," she murmurs. "Even…"
“Me?” I glance at her and regret it when I realize just how close she is to me.
I can’t help it.
My gaze drifts to her lips, and my mouth waters to taste her again.
“Maybe. Or could be one of the other Dons. Or underbosses, maybe. I mean, you give Roman a lot of access, right?”
“Roman is more than an underboss. He’s for all intents and purposes, my heir. He has no reason to sabotage what’s going to be his when I die.”
A look of sadness flickers on her face, but she looks away.
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t recognize the opportunity my father’s ailing could mean for you and him.”
I shake my head. “It’s not Roman. I’d bet my life on it. What about Frank?”
It’s her turn to dismiss me. “No. Frank would crawl over broken glass for my father.” She studies me. “You’ve been suspecting someone on the inside all the long, haven’t you?”
I nod once, sharply. "After Salvatore’s betrayal, we’ve all been on edge wondering who is trying to bring La Corona down. They tried to use Isabella, and apparently, you, through Blackwood.”
“Maybe it’s Blackwood.”
I shrug. “He still needs an inside man.”