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‘What do you mean?’
A knock on the door of the suite gave him the excuse to shelve the conversation for a while. ‘That will be dinner,’ he said as he ushered Paloma inside and held out a chair for her to be seated at the table. A waiter came in, pushing a trolley laden with dishes. Once the food had been served, the wine poured and the candles on the table lit, the waiter left them alone.
Daniele was relieved when Paloma picked up her fork and started to eat some couscous and roasted vegetables. She looked fragile, and he found himself wanting to comfort her, hold her. His jaw clenched as his body responded to the idea of taking her into his arms so that her small breasts were crushed against his chest. Marcello had asked him to protect Paloma, and Daniele was determined to honour his friend’s last request.
‘I noticed you were limping just now,’ she commented. ‘Have you hurt your leg?’
‘I was shot...’
Paloma dropped her fork and it clattered against the china plate. ‘You mean you were hit by a bullet when the gunmen were firing at us! Why didn’t you tell me? It’s my fault you are injured.’
‘It’s an old injury,’ Daniele quickly assured her. ‘It happened years ago when I was in the army. My kneecap was shattered, and I had several rounds of surgery to rebuild it. Most of the time it’s fine, but I landed heavily on my knee when we jumped into the truck to get away from the kidnappers.’
‘Was your injury the reason you left the army?’
‘Yes, unfortunately.’ He looked across the table and saw Paloma’s eyes widen at his curt reply. ‘The army was my life. I had wanted to join up since I was a kid, to honour my father.’
‘I remember you told me that your father died while he was a soldier, serving in Bosnia.’
‘He was part of the peace-keeping force and was killed by a sniper.’
‘So you became a soldier like your dad. What happened to you?’
‘One of my missions in the special forces was to work undercover. I was sent to infiltrate a Mafia gang who were responsible for several high-profile kidnappings and murders. I discovered that Marcello Morante was the gang’s next target and managed to alert the authorities in time to foil the plot. Your grandfather was safe, but my cover had been blown, and the Mafia boss ordered my execution.’
Daniele hesitated when Paloma gasped. Nausea churned in his stomach as memories flooded back. Counselling had helped him to process what had happened, but he would never forget the sickening terror he’d felt when the gang had discovered his identity, and he’d been certain he was going to die.
‘I was driven to a remote field and shot,’ he explained unemotionally. ‘The injury was deliberately not immediately fatal so that I would slowly bleed to death.’
‘Oh, Daniele.’ Paloma’s soft voice tugged on something buried deep inside him. An unexpected longing for tenderness that he quickly dismissed. In his heart he would always be a soldier, and perhaps a part of him would always be the boy who had watched his mother leave. ‘How did you survive?’ Paloma asked.
‘I managed to crawl across the field after the assassins had driven away.’ For years afterwards, his nightmares had dragged him back to the darkness and the agonising pain of his shattered knee as blood had poured from the bullet wound. ‘I came to a farmer’s track, and by a million-to-one chance, some tourists were lost and had stopped to look at the map. They patched me up and drove me to the nearest hospital. If they had found me five minutes later, it would have been too late, and I would have bled out.’
‘I had no idea that you nearly lost your life to keep my grandfather safe. It explains the bond that existed between you and Nonno.’
Daniele shrugged. ‘I was doing my job. I didn’t know Marcello then. But he found out that I had prevented him from being kidnapped, and he came to see me. I had just learned that, despite numerous operations, my knee was permanently damaged, and my army career was over. I was twenty-six and felt like my life was over.’
He grimaced. ‘Marcello offered to pay me compensation, but I was a surly devil and told him what he could do with his money. I didn’t want handouts, and I was determined to make my own fortune. I had always been interested in computers and programming, and while I’d been in hospital for months, I’d developed a smart payment app for mobile phones. Remember, this was ten years ago, and the idea was innovative. Marcello agreed to invest in my start-up company. It was an instant success, and three years later, I became a millionaire when I sold the business. Your grandfather persuaded me to join Morante Group as an IT consultant, and I established an online marketing presence that helped to make the company a global brand.’
‘Nonno said you dragged Morante Group into the twenty-first century,’ Paloma murmured. ‘I know he admired you.’
‘I was honoured to have had your grandfather as my friend. He was a great man. But the same cannot be said about Franco Zambrotta.’
Paloma had finished eating, and she took a sip of wine before setting her glass down on the table. ‘What have you got against Uncle Franco?’
The red wine had stained her lips. Daniele’s gaze lingered on her lush mouth and he wondered if she tasted as intoxicating as she had three years ago. He would never find out, he resolved grimly. Marcello had made him responsible for Paloma, and in the past twenty-four hours, Daniele had formed a crazy plan that would allow him to keep her safe and protect her position at Morante Group. But he could not let his inconvenient desire for her undermine his self-control.
‘Your great-uncle intends to call for a vote of no confidence in you,’ he said abruptly. ‘If he gains the support of the majority of the board of trustees, you will effectively be fired, or at least sidelined, and Franco will put himself up as joint chairman and CEO of Morante Group.’
Paloma’s eyes widened. ‘He can’t do that, can he?’
‘I’m afraid he can. If he is voted in as the new head of the company, he intends to reduce the annual donation to the Morante Foundation. You probably know that your grandfather insisted on forty per cent of the business’s profits being paid to the charity.’
‘A policy that I am determined will continue. I can’t believe the other board members would agree to pay less of the profits to the charitable foundation that was so important to Nonno.’
‘They might if Franco offers a financial sweetener to the trustees. Legally he could pay them bonus dividends during financial restructuring of the company. But in order for that to happen, the board would first have to replace you with Franco. Under the terms of Marcello’s will, Franco will be the acting head of Morante Group until your twenty-fifth birthday. That’s in December, isn’t it?’ When Paloma nodded, Daniele continued, ‘Franco will have eight months to win the support of the board.’
‘If my grandfather had wanted Uncle Franco to succeed him, instead of me, he would have altered his will. The fact that he didn’t must mean that he had faith in my ability to run the company. Surely the board will abide by Marcello’s wishes?’
