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“Not just the city. The whole state, Bianca. And even farther afield than that. The stakes are much higher today than they ever were in my father’s time.”
The nausea that had inexplicably settled somewhat over the course of today suddenly rears up once again in my gut. What will he do if I throw up all over the Chesterfield? Or this fancy rug beneath my feet?
I suck in a breath, trying for control, and attempt an explanation. “I was adopted as a baby. My parents were ordinary folk before my mom passed away in a car crash a couple of years ago. She was a teacher at a local elementary school, and my dad worked in animal rescue for many years. His love for animals led me to my work at Lots of Paws.
“After Mom died, my dad took off to spend time over in Thailand at an animal sanctuary. Doing what he loves is helping him heal from the grief. But I don’t hear from him that often anymore as he lives in quite a remote area of the country. Communication is pretty sketchy.”
In fact, Dad called me on the morning of my birthday, which means he probably won’t even know I’m missing from my usual life for at least another four or five months.
“Your point?”
I clench my teeth before working my jaw to try and release tension. “My point is that I’m not familiar with your world. Even if what you say is true, and I am that…thatperson. I’m sorry your parents died, but I don’t know anything about their deaths. I have nothing to do with any of this, and I don’t want to be drawn in. Please, Rio. Can you not just let me go now?”
My voice breaks, and the hint ofsomethingappears behind his eyes. A muscle ticks in his cheek, but then the movement stops and the sense of emptiness in his expression returns. “No. You are heir to the Carlotti cartel, Bianca. You cannot change that fact, even if you want to. I need your inheritance to give me the edge, and to ensure I am in a position to exact revenge for the attack on my family, without risk of reprisals. You must go along with this, for the sake of your friends, your workplace. Foryoursake, in fact. I—”
A discreet knock at the door stops him mid-sentence, and his chest rises and falls in a couple of rapid breaths, as if he has just divulged more than he expected to in this moment.
Despair floods my system. I will not be able to convince him to change his mind.
“Come,” he barks out, and a dark-suited man enters the room.
I’ve seen him before, when I was tied up on the floor of Rio’s suite, and then later, hovering in the club. It wasthisman’s team who shot my friends and gave me the black eye.
I stand quickly and move around the sofa, putting its solid frame between me and this goon.
“Danelli,” Rio says, noting my movement but not commenting on it. “They have arrived?”
“Yes, Boss,” the man says, glancing at me with open curiosity before turning back to Rio. “Shall I bring them in?”
“Indeed,” Rio answers. “After you’ve sent in our men. Three teams in here should do it. Let’s get this party started, shall we?”
9
“A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.”
Baltasar Gracian
Rio
It gallsme to allow Rossi and his men to set foot within my family estate, but my security is at its best in this complex and it makes sense to hold the meeting here.
Besides, now that the word is out about Bianca’s identity and whereabouts, I will need everything in my arsenal to keep her safe until our wedding, and the best place to do that is right here.
Rossi enters my office flanked by two of his men, one of whom is Anders. The others are waiting at the front gates in a bunch of SUVs, not allowed to cross the threshold of my property.
He was told two could accompany him, and that is what I have allowed.
Rossi is short and rotund, balding these days, and deceptively friendly in his countenance. Underneath the grandfatherly façade, he is as ruthless as me.
And that makes him a dangerous enemy.
He makes a beeline for me then stops short when he notices Bianca. She seems to have shrunk into herself, pressing back into one of the walls and wrapping her arms around her middle.
Rossi’s brows rise almost comically high. I allow myself a slow smile. I know what he’s seeing, and I know why shock contorts his features for a second before the bland mask descends once again.
I have a photograph in my possession of Bianca’s mother, Rina, and if not for the unstyled nature of Bianca’s long hair compared to the sleek bob that her mother wore, she and Rina could be twins.
Rossi knew Rina well, by all accounts, and I know I won’t need to show him the DNA results to convince him that Bianca Carlotti stands in the room with us right now.
