Page 11 of My Sunfall

A buzzing sound snaps me out of my brooding.

“Mr. Romano, your three p.m. client has arrived, I’ve set him up in the East meeting room.” My PA’s efficiency bleeds through the intercom.

“Thanks, Leo, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I stand and close my suit jacket, mentally bracing for another meeting with investors who are interested in letting Blackstrand Partners handle their money. When I created the company nine years back, it had started like a hobby, and I’d never imagined that it would become one of the most successful investment firms in Boston. I had always been good with numbers and even better with money. It multiplied under my fingers, and there is a good reason people call me the Wallstreet Midas. It also helps to have unlimited funds from our other activities. I give the dirty sums transiting through the firm a squeaky-clean sheen once they come out of the shell corps and dummy investment funds I run them through.

I step out of my office and head down the corridor to the East meeting room. That’s the one with the view over the harbor. Nothing is left to chance, everything is designed to induce trust. People entrust me with their money, and I make it grow for them.

The man sitting at the table is in his late fifties.

“Mr. Daniels,” I say, extending a hand with an easy smile. “Lucas Romano. Thank you for coming in.”

“Pleasure’s mine,” he says, gripping my hand firmly. “I’ll admit, finance isn’t exactly my comfort zone.”

“That’s fine,” I say, sliding into the chair opposite him. “That’s why you hire people like me. My job is to make your money work for you and to explain it to you in a way that you’ll understand even without a finance degree.”

He chuckles. “I’d appreciate that.”

I flip open the folder in front of me. “Here’s the simple version. You’ve got capital and you want it to grow. We take that capital and place it into a blend of assets—real estate, logistics, and controlled risk ventures. That means some investments are slow and steady, others are faster and a little more aggressive. The mix is what keeps you safe while still giving you returns worth smiling about.”

Daniels nods slowly. “And you handle all of it?”

“From the ground up,” I assure him. “You don’t have to track stocks or call brokers or figure out which port authority is best for importing goods. You decide how much you want to invest, and I make sure it turns into more. Think of it like planting an orchard. I handle the soil, the watering and the pruning. And you enjoy the harvest.”

That earns me a full smile. “Now that,” he says, “I can understand.”

“Good,” I say, leaning back, already knowing the deal is sealed. “Because with Blackstrand Partners, we don’t gamble with your trust. We earn it, every time.”

After an hour of hammering out details and figures, Mr. Daniels leaves with a happy smile and the contact details of our firm lawyers who will get in touch for the contract.

* * * *

I step out of my Lexus in front of the Bianchis’ front porch and climb the steps two at a time. Then I ring the bell and wait. Quiet steps echo on the other side, and the door opens to Chiara’s housekeeper. She looks at me with surprise, clearly not expecting my visit. I can’t contain my annoyance at Chiara. I had messaged her to let her know that I was stopping by, goddamnit.

“Good evening, sir. How may I assist you?” the housekeeper asks politely.

“Hello, is Chiara… Ms. Bianchi here? I messaged her to let her know that I’d come tonight.”

More like I’ve sent her threats of punishment if she kept ignoring me, but I don’t tell her that. I lean to the side, trying to catch a glimpse inside to see if she is hiding there. The older woman frowns in confusion.

“My apologies, sir, Ms. Bianchi is not here.”

My stomach drops. “Do you know where she went?”

“I’m afraid not.”

I let out a frustrated breath. Shit, what now?

I thank her and turn to leave, fishing out my phone and preparing to blow hers up when I see a car round the driveway to stop behind mine. My heart rate picks up when I see Lily step out of the passenger side. I want to fist-pump the air. If anyone can get me inside to see Chiara, it’s her sister.

Lily climbs the stairs and gives a small wave. “Oh, hi, Lucas. What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Lil-girl. I’ve been trying to get a hold of Chiara, but she’s not answering her phone, so I came to check on her.”

Lily frowns. “Oh, I stopped by because she’s not picking up to me either.”

My blood runs cold. This can’t be good, can it?