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‘Again with the agenda, Dara? You seem to have it all figured out into neat little boxes. It sounds so perfectly perfect.’

‘You’re mocking me, but there is a lot to be said for having a plan.’

‘When building a nightclub empire, definitely. But everything else is free fall to me. I enjoy surprises. If it weren’t for surprises we wouldn’t be here tonight.’

‘Back to the point: when will I be expected to sidetrack the Lucchesi’s?’

‘Not until the first interlude. Follow my lead and don’t go off-script.’

Dara fought the urge to make a snappy retort, instead relaxing as the music started up. The ancient opera house was beautiful, with its iconic gold architecture and deep red velvet curtains. She had promised herself years ago that she would see a show at the Teatro Massimo—it was on her list of tourist-type things to do while she was living here. A list that she never seemed to get to with her workload...

As the curtain came down for the first interlude she felt butterflies in her stomach. Leo gestured for her to follow him out into the crowd mingling outside the doorway. This was it. The moment of truth. He laid one hand at the small of her back as they walked down the corridors towards the royal box, where the Lucchesi family were seated. The heat from his palm seared into her skin, making those butterflies flap even faster.

A group of people were gathered around the entrance, talking loudly about the performance. One woman stood out, her opulent diamond jewellery outshone only by what had to be the most eye-blurringly white fur stole that Dara had ever seen.

Leo caught Dara’s eye, gesturing for her to step forward and intercept the woman’s attention.

Dara pasted on her most brilliant smile as Gloria Lucchesi came out of the crowd, embracing her warmly. She tried not to look at Leo, noting the smug expression on his face.

‘Dara, darling—what are you doing out in public without your headset?’ The older woman joked.

Dara laughed obligingly at the jibe, feeling unease as Leo stepped right up to her side, sliding his hand around her waist possessively.

‘Im here with my...my date, Leo Valente.’

Her voice stumbled over the words, her heart hammering in her chest. Whether it was the effect of lying so brazenly, or the result of being touched so intimately, Dara felt as if her heart was about to leap out of her chest.

Her skittishness evaporated once she noticed that Gloria Lucchesi had quite literally frozen in place, her hand clutching at her necklace in a gesture that was much more than simple surprise. Dara felt a sense of foreboding as Umberto Lucchesi came to stand beside his wife, his features ruddy with barely leashed anger.

Gloria placed a hand on her husband’s arm before speaking to Dara directly. ‘Miss Devlin, can you please explain what you are doing here with my husband’s nephew?’

* * *

Umberto Lucchesi looked like a man ready to pounce.

Leo continued to stare, unblinking. ‘How nice to see you, Uncle.’

‘How dare you ambush me at a charity function?’ the older man practically hissed under his breath, looking around the hall to see they were not being overheard.

‘I bought a ticket—just like everyone else here.’

True to form, Aunt Gloria stepped forward to calm the situation. ‘Umberto, please stop being so dramatic,’ she chastised. Her tone was one of calm confidence. ‘My husband forgets that he is in the middle of the Teatro Massimo, not shouting in a boardroom.’

Gloria placed a friendly hand on Dara’s arm. Leo noted Dara’s polite smile, her gentle tone as she defused the situation with questions about Gloria’s daughters.

Umberto remained silent and continued to stare at him across the narrow hallway.

‘We will not do this here, Valente,’ he hissed.

‘Most certainly not,’ Gloria interjected. ‘It’s high time you ridiculous men quit this feud and showed each other a little forgiveness. Leonardo, I want to welcome you home to Sicily, darling. I have missed you.’

‘Thank you, Zia, I’m afraid your husband doesn’t quite feel the same.’

‘That’s an understatement.’ Umberto scoffed.

Gloria spoke directly to him, ‘Come to our villa tomorrow evening for dinner. You can talk business then. For now, let us all enjoy the rest of the evening.’ She guided her husband into the throng of people, looking back to wink at Dara.

Leo smiled at Dara. That had gone just the way he’d planned it. A private meeting attained, on Lucchesi’s home turf. But Dara frowned, turning back towards the box. Leo followed, confused at her sudden change in mood.

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