Page 50 of The Man with a Treasure

Tired of being degraded for the day, my nostrils flared. “I am well aware that I am completely disposable to this family. I was speaking of your sister’s privacy. She trusted me with details of her violent rapes. Not you.”

His upper lip lifted. “Well, it is a good thing I have all the conversations recorded. My sister’s judgment seems to be… off.” He looked to his father. “And yours. Angelo cannot replace his father. Don’t be so naïve, Papa.”

After his shock wore off, flames shot out of that old man’s eyes. “Naïve, you say? How is this for being naïve.” He told me, “Angelo, if—when you find my granddaughter, you have no restrictions as to the tactic or the amount you may need to offer. If you see fit, you are permitted to offer a million dollars!”

“Papa!” yelled his eldest, as the other brothers hissed at their father’s words, reminding me they were even in the room.

“Enough!” roared the elder. “What you seem to have forgotten, my son, is that it is my money of which we are speaking. And I will do as I please with my money until my body is resting in the ground. To make sure I still have power from the grave, I will be putting Isabella in charge of my money.” As his sons all started in on him, he ignored them and pointed to Mr. Rossi. “You are to report to her if I have an untimely death. Understood?”

Mr. Rossi, seeming to be in a bit of shock, replied to his boss, “Yes, sir.”

The leader glared at his son. “Seeing how you are not next in line, I highly suggest you stop eavesdropping on your sister and start kissing her ass.”

After a delay of utter shock, Lorenzo stomped out of the office.

Mr. Giordano eyed his other two sons, sitting motionless and baffled. “Anything you two would like to add to your brother’s stupidity?”

They both shook their heads, then left the office without another word.

Grumbling under his breath about wishing he had four more Isabellas instead of sons, he plopped down into his office chair. A long exhale was released before he instructed, “Rossi, please go retrieve that recorder and all recordings,” then rubbed a palm down his tired face, “and burn them. My daughter deserves privacy.”

“Yes, sir.” Mr. Rossi patted my shoulder. “I will see you outside for a goodbye.”

I swallowed. This was really happening.

Now alone in the office, Mr. Giordano studied me from his chair. I was surprised when he said, “Money can bring out the ugliest of sides of people.”

I didn’t speak. I just listened.

He exhaled again. “You are about to enter one of the darkest parts of this world, one where that statement couldn’t be truer.”

I swallowed again. Fear crept up my spine.

“But you have inherited your father’s clever mind.” His hand waved about. “You intentionally pushed for a reaction from my son, didn’t you?”

I still said nothing.

The elderly man nodded in calm surrender, then he asked, “Are you in love with my daughter?”

My eyes widened. “What? No, sir. I mean, I do care for her, deeply, but not in a romantic sense.”

“Good. Because that could never be.”

Now, I was no longer as nervous as much as I was ready to board a plane and leave all the insults behind. My ego wanted to ask, Does fucking your daughter-in-law count? But that would only hurt Noemi and the man she loved way more than me. So, I only said what was expected and needed so that I could leave. Alive. “Of course, sir. I understand.”

He smirked, probably understanding I was speaking English to be an asshole.

For some reason, Mr. Giordano chose to not respond to my disregard and opened a drawer, retrieving four large envelopes stuffed with cash, and tossed them to me. “There is plenty of money to get you and Sal started. There are credit cards and bank cards that match the names on two false passports. I prefer you to use the private jet at your disposal, but permit commercial flights if an emergency arises. Rossi has already given you burner cells?”

“Yes, sir. Sal and I have all necessities already packed.”

It was shocking to hear him speak English. It was even more shocking to hear what he had to say. “Then… may your father’s soul guide you to my granddaughter.”

My jaw locked. He was asking for my father to be trapped to walk the Earth instead of flying in the Heavens where he belonged.

If there was ever a chance for Mr. Giordano and me to have the relationship he shared with my father, he had just burned that bridge to the ground.

As I said, the Devil is cold as ice.