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"Be careful. If anything looks off, or even feels off, trust your instincts and get out of there. I don't like that you're going in without me and I wish you would reconsider.”
“I'll be fine. We will all be fine. We just need to get Maria and get out of here.”
“Okay. I'm trusting you on this.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For treating me like a partner, like we're a team.”
I gently cupped her cheek in the palm of my hand and brought my forehead to hers. “Just don't make me regret it.” I smiled softly and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
“Don't worry.” Mia smiled. “I wouldn't want to have to hear you say that you told me so.” She smirked playfully and I couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.
"Mia," Abigail whispered loud enough that we could hear her, and she motioned for Mia to join her by the door.
Mia hurried over to Abigail while Luca and I took our places in the car.
I watched Mia like a hawk, ignoring the vibration of new messages coming in on my phone. Abigail knocked. It didn't take long for a woman to answer the door. She looked concerned to see Abigail standing there. Her stance became guarded as I studied her body language while they talked. Abigail showed the woman her phone and after a few minutes of Abigail talking, the woman hesitantly let them inside. I was nervous about having Mia somewhere where I couldn't even see what was going on but there was nothing I could do but trust in her judgment. I had to learn to trust her if our relationship was ever going to work. She was too strong-willed to just go along with whatever I said to do. She would not be some princess, protected and locked in a tower. I had learned that the hard way.
I had to distract myself for a moment or I was going to go crazy, jump up and ransack the house to drag Mia back out so I pulled out my phone to check on the messages that had been flowing in periodically for the past hour.
+39 06 373 8001: Is this or is this not Matteo Venturi?
+39 06 373 8001: Please. I need to talk to you. It's extremely important.
+39 06 373 8001: You really don't remember me?
+39 06 373 8001: I thought you were different from your brother. I guess I was wrong.
+39 06 373 8001: Please meet with me? I need to speak with you.
That girl really wasn't giving up. My anxiety over the situation with Mia transformed into irritation at the string of ill-timed texts so I quickly responded.
Matteo: You have something to say, then say it.
+39 06 373 8001: Not through texts. This needs to be face to face.
Matteo: Not a good time.
+39 06 373 8001: do you really think that I would be blowing up your phone if it wasn’t important?
Matteo: I don't know. I don't know you.
+39 06 373 8001: Oh yes you do. (Image attached)
I clicked on the attached image and my whole body tensed as I gripped the phone tighter. There on my phone, was a photo of me and a pretty blonde in a tight cocktail dress, my hand obscenely high on her bare thigh as she practically straddled me. I had no recollection of her or that night.
I zoomed in closer to the background. We were at one of our family-owned clubs and Gio was there with a girl on either side.
I remembered that night, going out with Gio. He had just found out that he was arranged to be married to the heir to the Monticelli family and that their don had just died.
The idea of being tied down forever to one woman was not what Gio had been wanting but he knew that it was what he needed to gain more power, so he said that he wanted to go out celebrating and blow off some steam at the same time. He invited me to go along. Even though I had originally declined his offer, my father thought it would be a good idea for me to go and keep an eye on Gio to make sure that he didn't go too far as he often did when we had so much riding on their marriage.
I remembered going to the club and ordering a drink. Two was my usual limit when I was going out with Gio. One of us had to keep our wits and it was always me. But the rest of that night was a blur. I remembered waking up the next morning wondering how I had gotten so drunk. I have been disappointed in myself for letting my guard down and letting myself get out of hand. Gio had been so smug about the fact that I had lost control that night, but I was always suspicious that he had slipped something into my drink. I had just never had the proof or a reason to pursue answers. It was done. It was over. And there had been no real harm.
Was the girl in the image really Anna? And if it was really her, what was so important that she needed to talk to me about three months later? Had she seen that Mia and I were going to get married and decided to what? Blackmail me with the photos?It was before Mia, and I ever got together so there was nothing for me to be blackmailed with.
