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Once we entered the room, I shut the door, and I waited until ‘Jonathan’ sat down before taking a seat across the table from him.Like most of the conference rooms in the building, the walls were clear glass, though they came with frosting capabilities if you needed privacy, though our clients didn’t know that. In this day and age, professional privacy could come back and bite you in the ass.
“So, Mr. Smith, explain to me what is going on, and I’ll see what we can do to rectify your situation,” I said, using my standard opening.
‘Jonathan’ placed his arms on the table, leaning forward, the polite façade fading quickly. “I was thinking more along the lines of me being able to help you rectifyyoursituation, Ms. Milano,” he replied, his accent a lot thicker than it’d been a few minutes ago.
Even if Iweren’t married to Nero, I’d been raised by Renzo Milano. While I wouldn’t call myself arrogant, I didn’t lack confidence. In fact, you couldn’t be good at my job if you lacked self-assurance. Meek didn’t cut it when you were fighting for people’s freedoms. Plus, even if I had carved my own separate path in life, eighteen years of being raised by a Mafia Boss had taught me a lot.
I leaned back in my seat after setting my pen down on top of my notebook.“And what situation is it that you think I have, Mr…?”
He arched a brow condescendingly. “What? You don’t believe my name is Jonathan Smith?”
“I’m not sure why you think I’d find it acceptable for you to waste my time, but I don’t,” I told him. “So, either tell me who you are and what you’re doing here, or kindly leave,Mr. Smith.”I lifted my chin. “Believe it or not, I’ve got shit to do.”
His lips liftedin a lazy grin. “You don’t disappoint,Mrs. Sartori.”
This time, I was the one that arched a brow. “Who are you and what do you want? I won’t ask a thirdtime.”
He leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable. “My name is Franz Meier,” he finally answered. “While I’m not as popular as my boss, I’m sure that you’ve heard of Emil Schulz, yeah?”
The fucking Germans.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Meier?” Iasked, neither confirming nor denying that I knew who his boss was.
“I heard that we have a common enemy,” he said, surprising me. “And isn’t the enemy of my enemy my friend, yeah?”
“It would be if I knew what you were talking about,” I replied, my voicecool and unimpressed.
“I’m talking about your husband, Mrs. Sartori,” he retorted smugly, and I could feelmy blood run cold. “It’s my understanding that your marriage is…perhaps, more of a burden than a blessing.”
Fia.
I didn’t want to believe it, but no one else knew that I had been opposed to marrying Nero. As planned, everyone had spun the story about keeping the ‘true’ betrothal a secret to keep me safe, so, besides my family, only Nero, Aurelio, and his father knew the truth. Of course, they could have told others, but I highly doubted it. It wouldn’t benefit anyone for the truth to come out.
There was also the fact that I would never betray Nero. When I had approached him about keeping Fia safe, I’d felt sick to my stomach over asking a favor of him after the way that I’d treated him. Eating crow was never fun, but instead of shoving that crow down my throat, Nero had simply asked me to honor my vows in exchange for allowing my sister to take aim at his life.
Yeah,I was never going to betray my husband.
“I’m not sure where you’re getting your information from, but your source left out a very crucial fact, Mr. Meier,” I told him.
“And what’s that?”
“That my marriage is no one’s business but my own,” I pointed out. “Whoever is feeding you gossip doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”
“Really?” he drawled out, not believing me. “Because my source isveryreliable, Mrs. Sartori.”
“I doubt it since the only person that knows how I feel about my marriage is my husband,” I semi-lied. “However, you’re more than welcomed to ask him yourself.”
“I can offer you half his kingdom,” he said, ignoring me. “If you helpus take him down, half of the spoils will go to you. Like a real divorce, yeah?”
“Look, I’m going tosay this only once more, Mr. Meier,” I said. “My marriage to Nero Sartori is the real deal, and whoever told you that it wasn’t is a liar.”
“I don’t thinkso, Mrs. Sartori,” he replied, a slimy grin on his face. “I think you just need some time to think it over.” He inclined his head. “It’s never fun to be blindsided, and I could see how it might upset you to be called in here unprepared.”
I leaned forward,placing my arms on the table. “And what makes you think that I won’t be calling my husband as soon as you leave to let him know that the Germans are trying to take over his territory? Territory that also used to belong to my family, might I add.”
“BecauseI’m positive that you would hate to see anything happen to my source,” he answered, and I could feel my stomach churn with the implication of his words. “It’s my understanding that the two of you are very close,mein schatz.”
“A bit of advice, Mr. Meier,”I said. “Always be aware of who yourrealenemies are and do not make the mistake of underestimating them.”
