Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
STEFANO
Benedetta didn’t say a word until we got to my office, and I shut the door behind us.
She turned on her stilettos and put her hands on her slender hips in her polished way. Then she stared at me as if inspecting my features. Or comparing them.
The woman was beautiful.
And not only beautiful but also approachable, very polite, and obedient too. Every don’s perfect bride.
But something lacked between us.
Fire.
My fiancée didn’t seem to have the fight in her that Val had. It wasn’t her fault. Val had something to protect. Something to fight for. She had my son.
“When were you going to tell me about your bastard?” Benedetta finally asked.
I relaxed my jaw’s involuntary clenching.
“Do not call him that,” I warned.
She dropped her gaze for a second, then met mine again.
“I’m sorry. That was cruel. But why didn’t you tell me you have a son and moved him and his mother into your house the day before our wedding?”
Then she paced around the room, waiting for me to compose my response while mumbling something about the damn tooth-whitening gel and really needing more espresso.
I didn’t bother to decode whatever the fuck that meant.
“We’re not exactly close enough to share our deepest secrets with each other, Benedetta.”
I motioned to the velvet armchair for her to take a seat.
She chose the sofa instead.
The sofa where I’d held Val after fucking her on my desk. I couldn’t look at the desk without my cock stiffening. That made things difficult, so I took the armchair myself, facing away from the desk.
Benedetta crossed her ankles, folded her hands on her lap.
“We’re supposed to be getting married tomorrow,” she said.
“That doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything. Standing in front of the priest and saying our vows doesn’t make us equal partners. Do you understand that?”
Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
“Yes, I know that. I still think either you or my father should have told me about your son. I’m entitled to at least that much.”
With this level of visible control over her anger, maybe Benedetta had some fire in her. If she did, it was buried deep, and I had no interest in digging it up with her or any woman other than Val.
Even if that woman was my future wife.
“You’re entitled to whatever I say you are, Benedetta. Nothing more, nothing less. I can be a fair man, but I won’t be if you push me.”
“I don’t think I’m being unreasonable here, Stefano. I understand what this is between us. A contract. On my part, there are no expectations of love or anything of that nature. I’m not walking into this under any illusion.”
I scoffed. “Then what’s the problem?”
The second I’d said the words, I felt like an asshole. Here I was, completely dismissing a kind woman who’d done absolutely nothing to deserve my ire.
“I think it’s only fair you let me know why people will point at me and whisper. When you made this agreement with my father, you made an agreement with me as well.
“We swore to have a childless marriage. You made me promise to relinquish any future claims to motherhood, to spare other children from being forced into this life the way you and I were.”
“And you agreed,” I pointed out.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
Her words dripped with venom, even as the perfect line of her lips curled into a smile.
It took me a minute to realize it, but then I saw that smile for what it really was—pure hatred.
Now when I looked at her, really looked and considered her as a person instead of a means to an end, I believed she was far more capable of violence than I’d given her credit for.
Not enough to convince me she had arranged the attack on Enzo, but she certainly was capable of something like it.
This was a mafia princess sitting across from me, after all, and Benedetta presented herself perfectly that way.
Her parents raised her to accept only perfection before it came time for them to sell her to the highest bidder, to ensure the family’s strength and position.
But this one had her own thoughts, ambitions, and desires.
That wouldn’t affect my decision to marry her. I cared only about the power that came with her hand, the power I needed to fulfill a promise and avenge my family.
Had my ambition and my blood lust really blinded me so much that I hadn’t seen the snake I had agreed to marry?
With a deep breath, Benedetta straightened her back, and like magic, the anger in her expression melted away, the mask of cold indifference sliding into its place.
“You still agreed,” I said.
“I agreed because that’s what’s expected of me. I understood your reasoning too, don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t my choice, but I absolutely see the logic and even some warped form of mercy behind your decision. It made sense.”
“Then what’s the problem?” I repeated.
“The problem is, now you have a child, Stefano. That renders our agreement null and void, and I would be well within my rights to call off this wedding. But for other reasons, I can’t. So what I want is to hear it straight from you. Why did you lie?”
I raised a brow. “You still think I owe you an explanation?”
Yes, I was being an ass, but the strategy I employed was to bait her into showing her true colors. Then, at the very least, I would have a better idea about the likelihood of her being involved in the attack on my son.
“You don’t owe me anything,” she said. “You’ve made that clear. But like I said, I think I deserve to know what people will whisper about me in the coming days, so I can adjust accordingly.”
“Adjust how?”
“That depends on the situation. I need the facts, and I need to know the expected outcome.”
Inhaling deeply, I gave myself a minute to think it through.
She wasn’t being unreasonable. Considering the circumstances, her reaction could have been much worse, and if I wanted Enzo in my life, I needed her and Val to at least remain civil to each other.
For better or worse, my house would be under Benedetta’s control, and I would need her to want to make it welcoming for Enzo. I decided to lay the cards she needed on the table.
“I didn’t know about the boy until last night,” I said.
She tilted her head, and the tiniest crease of confusion darkened her delicate brow.
“What do you mean?”
“I received an interesting bit of correspondence yesterday from an anonymous sender. A personal threat. The envelope contained photographs of a woman I hadn’t seen in a decade. And her son. I recognized Valerie, of course, but not the child.
“There was, however, a lock of the boy’s hair included with everything else. Before I saw DNA results for myself, I wanted to confront his mother first. I wanted to see it with my own eyes and hear it straight from her mouth.”
“So you… what? Called her up and invited her to bring the boy over to make cookies in your kitchen?”
“That would be a gross oversimplification of this entire situation. I went to the café she owns. Like I said, I needed to see the boy for myself.”
“And what about the mother?” she asked. “This anonymous threat could very well have come from her for a multitude of reasons…
“Because she wanted you back in her life. Or to extort money from you. To force you to do her a few favors and make you think it was your idea all along. You must admit, Stefano, this is awfully convenient timing.”
I gnashed my back teeth to stop from lashing out.
If I were viewing this scenario from the outside, watching this situation unfold for another man in my position, I would have thought the same thing.
Benedetta was being entirely practical, and I couldn’t get past how little I appreciated what she was insinuating about Val.
I sat back and propped an arm over the chair frame.
“Listen, I was there for all of two minutes before someone opened fire on the place. Most of it meant to be a distraction, I’m sure. But the shooter intended to harm the boy. I took a bullet for him.”
“You were shot?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
She looked me over, then her eyes widened in realization.
“Someone tried to murder that sweet little boy? The child downstairs in the kitchen right now, baking cookies?”
“Yes, so what concerns me far more at the moment is that someone out there was brazen enough to go after a son I didn't even know I had.”
Benedetta stood to pace around the room again, her head dipped slightly forward as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Why would someone do this? Who would do something like that? I mean, the shooting is one thing. That's part of the life. But to go after a child? That's just evil. In its truest form.”
“I agree,” I said, observing her.
Now that I’d gotten this kind of reaction from her, besides the way she handled the first part of our conversation, I didn't think she had anything to do with it. Her response seemed genuine, but if I didn’t confirm it without a shadow of a doubt, I would fail us all.
I couldn't trust my gut this time.
There was too much on the line.
Then Benedetta spun out of her pacing to face me.
“What was the threat?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“What do they want? You don't just threaten a child and his mother and actually attempt to go through with it without wanting something first. What do they want?”
I considered lying to her, giving her some unrelated response, so I could gauge her reaction to the lie, in case this was a ruse, and she was a more skilled actor than I imagined.
But in a few split seconds, I decided being blunt would give me the best reaction.
“They want me to call off the wedding.”
Her eyes widened again, joined by the faintest paling of her flawless skin.
“What? But why?”
Her confusion seemed entirely authentic, as far as I could tell, but that still wasn’t enough.
“I don't know. That's why I asked you to come here. I wanted to see what you thought. If maybe anyone came to mind when I told you, someone out there who doesn’t want us to get married.”
She shook her head, staring blankly across the room.
“No, I don't know. Everyone has shown nothing but excitement about the wedding. The few close friends I have. My family. Or what’s left of it anyway.”
“Think, Benedetta. Is there anyone in your orbit not wanting this to happen?”
“If you’re referring to anyone who might have a more intimate understanding of my family’s situation, Stefano, then no. Those who know about my father are happy to see I’ll be protected. The line of succession for my father's legacy is already perfectly clear.
“And honestly, most of them are thrilled to know that his death won't cause a blood feud over the new boss.”
“And the people who don’t know about your father?”
“The people who don't know about my father's illness are equally excited. Blending the families will make us one of the strongest, if not the strongest, crew in the city. Most likely in all of New York.”
Now she was only repeating back to me things I already knew, and that wouldn’t get us anywhere.
I gave her a curt nod.
“So you can't think of anyone.”
A statement, not a question.
“No, I can’t. I’ve not heard anyone expressing anger over the wedding. And certainly not disapproving enough to shoot a child. I don’t know anyone capable of such a thing.”
After that, Benedetta resumed pacing and pinching the bridge of her nose.
I had hinted as much as I could and gotten nowhere.
Time to be direct.
“What about an ex-lover?” I asked. “A boyfriend who couldn’t stand the thought of you in another man’s bed?”
She froze near the far wall of my study, her back going rigid. Then she slowly turned to look at me over her shoulder.
“Are you really accusing me of being impure?”
“I don’t give a fuck about your virginity, Benedetta. As long as you’re not carrying another man’s child and you ended all relations from before our engagement, as agreed, then it’s none of my business.”
“Well, you’re in the minority with that,” she seethed. “Stefano, I've remained untouched. I’m sure you understand the consequences of dishonoring my father like that before he decided who my husband would be.”
Her eyes narrowed again with a twitch.
“And to imply otherwise is an insult to my family.”
“My son’s life is on the line. I must consider every avenue.”
“Well, that avenue is a dead end,” she snapped. “I can promise you that.”
Leaning forward, I pressed my palms against my eyelids, hoping to mitigate the beginning of a headache.
“If it is, then give me an alternative. I can’t link any of my rivals to this. And no ties between this botched job and the Commission either. There’s just… nothing.”
Benedetta hurried back to her seat on the sofa and realigned her perfect posture.
“The alternative is simple. Cancel the contract, Stefano.”
“What?”
I dropped my hands and opened my eyes to stare at her.
“You want to break our marriage contract? Is that why you showed up here this morning?”
She shook her head.
“I came because my father told me to. He said I needed to ease your cold feet. I was supposed to dangle myself in front of you and act like the doting bride, concerned about my future husband after a shootout in Brooklyn.”
A bitter chuckle escaped me.
“And instead of playing the part, you would rather go back to your father and tell him you’re no longer marrying me?”
Don Capaldo would not take that well.
Another small smile flickered over her lips, this time with less fury and more wry amusement.
“Well, it won't be pleasant. But I think it’s the best course of action for now.”
“So you're willing to let me call off this wedding so late in the game? What about your reputation? Even if I take the blame, you’ll still be the one damaged by it. And I don't think you have time for your reputation to heal before your father must find you another husband.”
She shrugged a bony shoulder.
“I’m willing to call it off myself. I have grounds for it, even if you didn’t know you had a child. You do now. I don’t want to be a home-wrecker, Stefano. And I refuse to have that innocent boy's blood on my hands.
“Nor do I want to be the other woman in my own home. But we both know my father would kill me, so you need to do it. Oh, he’ll be furious for sure, but his anger will be directed at you instead of me.”
I wasn’t too concerned about a dying man’s tantrum.
Let the old fucker be furious.
“You’ll be ruined, Benedetta,” I said. “I can do many things, but I can’t stop the rumors. It doesn’t matter what reason I give, rumors will circulate.”
“I'd rather that than hurt the amazing little boy I just met downstairs. Yes, it’ll be hard. No doubt. But I'm sure my father can quickly make another match. It won’t be nearly as lucrative, of course, but it’ll be something.
“Who knows? Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I’ll end up with someone from the old country and move to some beautiful vineyard for the rest of my life and have a dozen children.”
She couldn’t fool me. I could see the sadness in her eyes. We both knew that wouldn’t happen. She would be lucky to end up with the third son of a second-rate family.
Why would she ruin her own life for my son?
“Are you sure, Benedetta?”
She was giving up a lot to keep Enzo safe. Me too. If our marriage contract ended, I would lose her father's men and his fortune and my chance to gain more strength than the Commission had.
Christ, I’d just met the kid. It made no sense for me to be so willing, not given my history.
But I was willing. For my son, my flesh and blood.
Benedetta got up, pressed her hands down along her dress.
“I’m sure. It’s settled. I’ll leave you to handle the details and get back to your manhunt.”
She went to the door but paused with her delicate fingers resting on the handle before turning back to me.
“Please speak to my father and make the announcement right away. At the very least, you can save me the added humiliation of being left at the altar.”
I nodded, holding her gaze.
“Of course. If there’s anything else I can do to ease the situation for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
She returned the nod and then Benedetta Capaldo walked out of my office and likely out of my life for good.
After she’d gone, Tony knocked on the open door.
“Come in and shut the door behind you, Tony. Do you have something?”
“Not enough, boss, not yet. But now I can prove Benedetta isn’t part of this.”
“So prove it.”
He bobbed his head up and down while placing a new phone on my desk.
“Phone is charged. Data transferred. And as for your fiancée, well, she was out of town until about two hours ago. We confirmed using her credit card records. I applied pressure on her maid, and she swore it too.
“Don Capaldo’s and his captains’ whereabouts are also accounted for. The Capaldo family is clear. And their staff.”
I’d already come to the same conclusion during my conversation with Benedetta, but having proof never hurt.
“Check out every member of the Commission again,” I ordered. “Dig deeper into their finances this time. You’ll need a professional hacker, so call in a favor from Hastings.”
“You mean the British guy from Wall Street?”
I nodded. “That’s right. I granted him access to one of my buildings… he owes me.”
“Got it, boss. I’ll get right on it.”
When I didn’t offer further instructions, Tony tore out of my study, leaving me alone to think.
I moved to my desk, forcing myself to block the memory of Val lying on top, and focused on what needed to be done.
There had to be another way to look at this.
I pulled the first yellow envelope out of the drawer and went through the pictures again. So many. Different days, different seasons, multiple locations. Some taken with a magnified camera lens. Some captured at close range.
The connection I’d been missing hit me.
“You son of a bitch.”
Whoever he was, he had some kind of privileged access to get close without being caught. It had to be someone Val knew. Nothing else tracked.
I snatched up the photos and jogged down the hallway.
Inside the security room, an enforcer watched the estate’s monitors while Tony and Bruce scanned the city’s feeds.
“Tony,” I snapped. “Where are the photos from last night?”
He shook his head with a dumb fucking look on his face.
“The photos from last night? We didn’t take any?—”
“The photos from the second envelope, goddamn it, Tony.”
He stood and held up the yellow envelope.
“Good. Go through them and find the similarities.”
I shoved the photos in my hand at his chest.
“These too. Look for minor details that might give us some indicator about the shooter. Not just his identity but his profession, his height, his favorite spot for taking the photos. Anything that might seem remotely relevant.
“And search all images for his reflection. Windows, doors, vehicles. Every-fucking-thing reflective.”
Bruce jumped up, the lines on his forehead deeper now.
“Something’s up, boss. What is it?”
“The shooter knows Val and Enzo, and he had complete fucking access to them.”