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“I disagree.” Michael stared at his sister, his voice stone-cold. “You may be the CEO, Julietta, but I still own the bulk of this company. I believe we need to take a risk with the new opening in New York. I’ll need new print ads, a television spot, and billboards, and we will go in this new direction.”
The weight of responsibility deadened his shoulders, but he straightened and took it like he always had. Dios, he wished he didn’t always have to make the hard decisions. “I know you are angry with my choice, but I feel it is best for the family. For La Dolce Famiglia.”
There was a total of twenty bakeries spread throughout the Milan and Bergamo area, all a tightly run operation boasting fresh and creative pastries for both the casual pedestrian and four-star party catering. The headquarters stood proudly in the middle of Milan and took up the whole upper floor, and they’d finally added their own factory so they could consistently ship fresh ingredients and have total quality control. Running a massive empire required making hard decisions, even if he needed to overstep Julietta’s boundaries. Though his sister impressed him with her business decisions, if the new campaign failed it would be his fault. He opened his mouth to explain, but his sister interrupted.
“I cannot believe you would disrespect me like this.” Julietta clenched her fists, her normally reserved features set with fury. Her voice shook. Dressed in an impeccable navy suit with matching pumps, her hair twisted in a neat chignon, she came across as the perfect businesswoman. Unfortunately, tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m not doing this anymore. Hire someone you trust, because obviously you don’t trust me.”
Michael jerked back in surprise at her sudden emotion. He softened his voice and took a step closer. “Ah, cara, I didn’t mean—”
“No!” She jumped up from the table. “I’m sick of the way you treat me. I’m good enough to run La Dolce Famiglia when you’re not here, but as soon as you step back onto my turf, you disrespect everything I’ve worked so hard to build: respect, mutual admiration, work ethic.”
“You’re being ridiculous. I’m only doing what’s best for the company.”
Julietta nodded. “I see. Well, then I don’t think you need me anymore. I’m resigning as CEO. Effective immediately. Go find someone else to boss around.”
Ah, merda.
Venezia jumped in front of Michael and wagged her finger madly through the air. “Why do you always have to order everyone around?” she demanded. “You’re our brother, not Papa.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched. “No, perhaps if I was Papa, I wouldn’t have let you flounce off to dress a bunch of Barbie dolls and call it a career. Perhaps if I was Papa, I would’ve made you take your rightful place in this company and not put all the weight on Julietta.”
Venezia practically snarled like Dante and teetered on her three-inch red heels. “I knew it! I always knew you never respected my career. Fashion is a huge industry, Michael, and I’ve made a name for myself in a competitive business. But no, just because I chose to do what I loved, that’s not good enough for you. You don’t respect any of us.”
“Zitto! Enough of your childish tantrums, both of you. I do what is best for this family, always.”
Venezia sneered and grabbed her sister’s hand. “Who do you think you are? You order us around like children, refuse to respect the decisions and choices we make, and pretend you actually care. We’re making a life for ourselves here and have been doing fine without you.”
Pain shot through his chest and he struggled for breath. “How could you say this to me? After everything I’ve done?”
Venezia tossed her hair and led Julietta toward the door. “We don’t need you anymore, Michael. Maybe it’s time you return to America, where you belong now.”
They shut the door behind them.
Michael stood in the shattering silence as the pieces of his life exploded around him.
His head pounded as he paced the empty conference room, searching for answers. The careful control he’d built to protect his family slipped under the weight of raw emotions. Julietta had always been the rational one, yet the hurt in her eyes when he’d overruled her cut him to the bone. Had he been mistaken? Should he have stepped out of the way, even when he knew the campaign wasn’t the best, and let her fail?
The door opened.
Maggie peeked her head in. “Okay, I’m bored and I want to go home. I visited the cafeteria twice, hung out with Julietta’s secretary, and was sufficiently impressed with your organization. I’ve done my wifely duty so I’m heading out.”
He forced a nod, but she blinked and nudged the door wider. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” He waved her out. “I shall meet you at home.”
The blasted woman ignored him and stepped into the room. “Did you have a fight with your sister?”
He should kick her out and keep business in the family. Yet, the words rushed out of his mouth. “Make that sisters. I disagreed with Julietta’s advertising campaign and they—what do you Americans term it?—blew up.”
“Ah, I see.” She looked uneasy as she shot a look at the exit. He waited for her to go but she shifted from foot to foot, her hands cradling her camera, which Michael now thought of as another appendage. “Is that the ad campaign?” she asked. She walked over to the table, and her legs flashed in her short skirt and high heels. Memories of those limbs wrapped snug around his hips and open to every thrust shuddered through him.
“Yes. It’s outdated. I told them we need a sexy commercial equating food and sex. Americans like shock. It sells.”
“Hm.” She flipped through the photo ad, then closed the folder. “Okay, I’ll meet you at home.”
Damn her. He almost choked on the words when he realized how much he respected her opinion. “What do you think?”
“Of the campaign?”
“Yes. Am I right?”
She turned on her heel and stared at him. Her bangs slid over one eye. The sexy peek only made him fight harder to concentrate on business and not the low moans she made last night. “I agree.”
The breath rushed out of his lips. He straightened, glad he made the right decision. “I thought so.”
“But I hate your idea, too.”
