Page 135 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

He turned up at the Palazzo the next morning.

* * *

‘What’s happened?’

Sanzio’s question was neither hostile nor surprised. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

‘My father’s found a buyer,’ Eleanora said bleakly, confirming his supposition.

They were sitting outside the wing of the Palazzo that she’d repaired as best she could with her inadequate resources.

‘Did you know?’ she asked.

‘I suspected,’ he conceded. ‘I endured a very blustering phone call from him the day after we dined at the Viscari—presumably you’d told him by then you’d had no joy in getting a good price from me. He attempted to convince me that he had rival buyers lining up down the street.’

‘Well, he has,’ Eleanora confirmed. ‘One, at least. It seems real.’

‘What’s the offer?’

Eleanora named it. Sanzio’s mouth twisted. ‘Lowball.’

‘It’s from someone called Oleg—I can’t spell or pronounce his surname. It’s a cash offer. Literally cash.’

Sanzio shrugged. ‘Could be dirty money he wants laundered. Your father’s a fool to touch it. But if it’s the only offer on the table—’

Eleanora’s face twisted. ‘I don’t want the Palazzo to belong to someone like that!’

Sanzio looked at her. ‘So, what do you want to do about it?’ His voice was neutral, deliberately so.

In the two weeks since she’d walked out of the Viscari he’d reflected on the proposal he’d put to her. He had not changed his mind. And seeing her again like this, it still had traction.

It would work—for both of us.

His eyes rested on her now. Still making absolutely nothing of herself—she was wearing a faded top, cotton pedal-pushers, scuffed trainers, hair pulled tightly back off her face, and not a trace of make-up. Her nails had garden dirt under them and there was a long scratch on the back of one hand. No one would ever take her for Tonia’s sister.

Not yet—

The same thought that had entered his head over dinner at the Viscari came again as he let his eyes rest on her. It was a pleasing thought—a very pleasing one.

Eleanora had started to speak. Sanzio’s attention was caught immediately. Any plans for her—and for her sister—rested on what she said now. What would she say? He felt himself tense.

Suddenly wanting the right answer. Wanting it badly. He’d told Eleanora da Verano at the Viscari that the only way he’d get hold of the Palazzo would be by the method he’d put to her. But that had only been a tactic to pressure her. Of course he could buy it for himself if he felt like it—any offer he made would be higher and cleaner than shady Oleg’s.

But that would mean Eleanora would not come with it…

Which meant Tonia would not learn a lesson she badly needed to learn.

He made himself listen with total focus to what Tonia’s sister was saying to him now. Her voice was cautious—diffident, hesitant—unsure. But what she said was totally revealing.

‘Signor Bastoni,’ she began, her expression troubled, gaze searching, ‘what you said, that evening at the Viscari… Do you…do you still…?’

‘Yes,’ Sanzio said.

Chapter Four

Sanzio relaxed into his first-class airline seat, legs outstretched as they winged east across the ocean. His glance flicked to the woman seated beside him, her legs slanted neatly away from him, reading on her tablet.

Donna Eleanora da Verano Bastoni. His bride of two weeks.