Chapter 15
Tiziano Constanzo
I was sitting in Ant?nio Ferrucci’s office, watching the way he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was a small man, both physically and in character. His servility was almost unbearable, but tolerable as long as he remained useful to me.
“We need to review the numbers from these latest contracts. I want to know if there are any discrepancies in the declared amounts,” I said, my tone calm but authoritative.
Ant?nio nodded quickly, flipping through the papers with trembling fingers.
“Of course, Don Tiziano. I’m sure everything is in order, but I’ll check again.”
My attention remained on him, but my real objective was something else.
“And the Bellinis?” I asked suddenly, watching him freeze for a brief second before lifting his gaze. “You handled their accounting too, didn’t you?”
He cleared his throat, trying not to show his discomfort.
“Yes, in the past. But ever since they betrayed your family, I haven’t had any involvement with them.”
I leaned back in the chair, resting my elbows on the armrests.
“Do you know where all of his houses in Naples are?”
Ant?nio quickly shook his head.
“No, Don. I don’t believe anyone knew all of Vittorio’s secrets. He was a private man, even with me.”
“His son has returned to Naples,” I continued, studying every one of his reactions. “I want to know where he’s hiding. The Bellini family isn’t large. I practically wiped them all out. There should only be distant relatives left.”
“Why are you telling me all this, Don?” Ant?nio asked, visibly nervous.
“Because they may try to rebuild their business little by little. And they may come looking for you, since you still have some of their ledgers.”
Sweat began to run down his forehead.
“Sir, it’s been many years. I don’t have those books anymore. When the numbers are no longer important, I destroy them. I only keep records we may need later. Besides, they’re traitors, and the territory is under your control.”
I looked at him for a moment in silence. Then I turned my head toward one of my soldiers and gave a slight signal.
“Search the office. Bring me everything.”
Ant?nio suddenly stood, alarmed.
“Don Tiziano, do you doubt my word? I thought you trusted me, especially now that we’re going to be family.”
I rose slowly and walked toward him while my men began opening drawers and cabinets.
“Believe me, Ant?nio,” I began, my voice thick with contempt. “You were never even an option for me.”
His face grew even paler, but he didn’t dare say anything. He simply watched helplessly as my order was carried out. I knew he was hiding something. Men like Ant?nio always were.
The sudden sound of the door opening made me look up, drawing my attention away from the soldiers searching the office. To my surprise, Bianca stood in the doorway, her eyes wide as she stared at her father.
“Dad?” she asked, dropping the bag she was carrying to the floor and quickly walking toward Ant?nio.
Automatically, I gave the soldiers a subtle look. They understood immediately and stopped going through the drawers.
“It’s a great pleasure to see you, Bianca,” I said, my voice calm and friendly.
Ant?nio tried to hide his discomfort, but the tone he used when answering his daughter revealed something that caught my attention.
“Sweetheart…” he said tenderly, and I couldn’t help noticing the way Bianca turned toward him, her eyebrows rising in surprise, as though that tone were unfamiliar to her. Then she looked back at me, assessing me with an unusual amount of courage for someone in her position.
“Did I interrupt something?” she asked, looking from me to Ant?nio.
“No,” I replied, crossing my arms, my posture relaxed as I studied her.
“I only came to bring the lunch my mother packed for you,” she said, walking back toward the entrance and bending down to pick up the bag she had dropped on the floor.
She was good at hiding her discomfort. She acted so naturally in front of the folders scattered across the floor that it made me even more curious about her.
As she arranged the containers, my gaze remained fixed on her. It wasn’t merely curiosity; it was analysis. I studied her the way someone appraises a rare piece, trying to measure how strong she was and how far I could push her before discovering whether she would bend or break.
“How did you get here?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.
“I walked, sir,” she replied without looking at me.
“I’ll give you a ride home,” I declared, leaving no room for objection.
“There’s no need,” she shot back immediately, defensive.
I smiled faintly, finding her attempt to refuse interesting. Of course, she still had no idea who I was, or she would have understood that going against my wishes was pointless.
“I’ll be waiting in the car,” I replied, cutting off whatever argument she might have tried to make.
I saw the hesitation in her eyes, but she said nothing more. She simply finished arranging the containers and adjusted the bag before giving me one last curious look.
As I left, Ant?nio stared at me like the weak old man he was. I simply headed for the car.
I opened the car door for Bianca, who hesitated for a moment before getting in and settling into the seat.
I closed the door calmly and walked around to the other side, sitting beside her.
My gaze immediately dropped to her legs.
Her short dress had ridden up slightly, revealing more than it probably should have.
Realizing it, she tugged the fabric down, quickly covering herself.
“Thank you for your kindness, sir,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.
I didn’t answer right away. I simply watched her, letting the silence stretch long enough to make her shift uncomfortably in her seat. Finally, she lifted her eyes and met mine.
“Why do you stare at me so much?” she asked, sounding irritated.
I smiled faintly, leaning a little closer to her.
“I’m realizing I made a good choice.”
She blinked in surprise, and her breathing quickened. Her chest rose and fell subtly, but I noticed every detail.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, turning her face toward the window, trying to avoid my gaze.
“Don’t worry, Bianca. I know how to be patient, although I don’t have much time.”
She frowned, clearly confused by my words, but didn’t ask anything. We remained silent as the car continued down the road leading to the Ferrucci estate.
“Why did you walk?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“I’m used to it, sir,” she replied without looking at me.
I simply nodded, keeping to myself the displeasure her answer caused me. Walking all the way here was reckless, to say the least, but this wasn’t the moment to confront her about it.
As we approached the estate, I noticed two cars parked in the garden and a driver sitting near them. I frowned, assessing the scene.
“It’s a long walk,” I commented, giving Bianca one last look before the car came to a complete stop.
“I already told you, sir, I like walking, and I’m used to it.”
As soon as the vehicle stopped, the front door opened and Giulia appeared. Her posture was theatrical, her walk deliberately sensual as she approached the car. She smiled like a predator already calculating her next move.
“Don Tiziano,” she said, leaning slightly toward the window, revealing more than necessary.
While Giulia poured on all her charm, Bianca took the opportunity to get out of the car quickly and walk toward the house without looking back.
Giulia tried to hold my attention, but her attempt was laughable. I didn’t even bother responding.
“Go.”