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She didn’t know anything of the past six months of his life because he’d been trying to protect her from the worry that would come with the knowledge that he was still actively pursuing the men who had taken him and Duarte in Rio. That he had been knee-deep in a dangerous criminal underworld of corrupt politics and blackmail as he tried to piece together the events that had led to his best friend’s death.
It had been pure chance that Tristan Falco had been in Rio at the same time. He’d saved Valerio from being arrested, drunk and ranting, after another lead had turned out to be useless.
The other man had cleaned him up and offered him some solid advice. No more booze. Hire professionals to do the digging. He’d also put Valerio in contact with a discreet and highly qualified clinician to help with the psychological aspects of his recovery. And he’d shared some of his contacts to help Valerio dig into the backgrounds of some of the men he suspected of involvement. The diamond heir had become an unlikely ally in his fight for justice.
Valerio took the first opportunity to move away in search of his unhappy business partner. He had made his peace with Falco, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly able to tolerate his company for longer than necessary.
He moved through the crowd, hating how uneasy and wooden he felt when he stopped to converse with his guests. His smile felt too tight, his shoulders heavy. The old Valerio would have been in his element here, not counting down the minutes until it would be acceptable for him to slip away.
This conflict with Daniela had got under his skin. Clearly she was annoyed by his actions today—which, honestly, he’d expected. He hadn’t planned to triple her guest list, but it added to his mission to draw attention to his social standing and good connections. An unstable CEO would hardly host a party for all of Monaco’s elite, would he? Plus, he’d been frustrated at her reaction to his proposal. He felt an urgency to his plans now and he needed her to stop fighting him.
The trouble was, he didn’t want to reveal the full truth of her situation and scare her away. He had planned to find a balance tonight, to give her just enough incentive to co-operate and accept his proposal. She was no fainting little miss, that was for sure—especially considering she had quite literally kidnapped him to ensure she got him to Monte Carlo.
But his plans for tonight had not involved having her completely furious with him. He needed her by his side. It was the only way he could keep her safe.
Discomfort had him running a finger along the rim of his collar, fighting the urge to rip off his tie and open a few buttons. He had chosen the open decks of the yacht deliberately, knowing that confined spaces were one of his triggers. But it seemed that even having the entire night sky above him was not enough to stop the familiar tingle of hyper-awareness from creeping up his spine. Every loud bark of laughter and clink of glassware brought a shot of tension painful enough to have him gritting his teeth.
A movement on the opposite side of the sea terrace caught his eye. One of Daniela’s security men, conferring with the rest of the team with a worried look on his face. Valerio moved forward, the tension mounting in his gut like a furnace.
One brief exchange of words with the men was enough to confirm his worst fear.
She was missing.
Dani had moved away from the crowd initially just needing a moment to herself. That moment had turned into a quarter of an hour as she’d wandered through the yacht in search of privacy. Finally she’d emerged onto an open sea-view terrace at the stern, breathing a sigh of relief to find it empty but cursing herself for not grabbing another glass of champagne or some canapés. She hadn’t eaten a lot after her brunch with Hermione, and already she could feel the buzz of alcohol in her head. She’d always been a lightweight.
From their current position, she could see the lights of Monte Carlo twinkling like fiery diamonds above the water. She could see the glow of the iconic Monaco Naval Museum and the Grimaldi Forum in the distance. Such beauty would usually bring her a sense of calm, but nothing seemed able to rid her of the restless feeling that had plagued her all day.
Her late entrance to the party had been calculated to ensure the maximum effect of the majestic, glittering emerald gown Hermione had provided. Its designer was a new hot name on the Paris runway, his trademark exclusive material a blissfully comfortable stretch velvet that had actual diamond fragments threaded throughout.
The piece was heaven for the more curvaceous women of the world, like her. It moulded to her body like a second skin and flared out slightly just below her knees in a delicate flounce. And the pièce de résistance to complement her perfect ensemble was the man she’d had on her arm.
What on earth had she been thinking, bringing Tristan Falco? Everyone else on the yacht had watched that ridiculous display of thoroughly masculine camaraderie between him and Valerio with a mixture of appreciation and curiosity. She had heard whispers—one person wondering if this finally meant a partnership of the two brands was in the works...another dreamily wishing that she could be in the middle of the two hunks.
Dani didn’t know what bothered her more: all those women drooling over the two men or the fact that most of the guests would attribute any future partnership between Falco Diamonds and Velamar to Valerio’s presumed genius.
Dani had been approached by Tristan numerous times in the past few months about a possible collaboration between their two brands. It was no secret that Valerio had firmly declined his numerous offers in the past
, even though it made perfect business sense for the two to join forces, considering the strong history already present between Falco Diamonds and the other members of the wealthy Marchesi family.
The soft clearing of a throat brought her back to the moment. She turned, expecting to see that Valerio had followed her, but instead she was met with the sight of a thin man with a shock of salt-and-pepper hair that seemed vaguely familiar. There was a kind of meanness in the smile he gave her, and a shrewdness in the way he scanned the empty deck area with a seeming lack of interest.
‘Boa noite, Senhorita Avelar.’
His voice was reedy, as though he smoked twenty cigarettes a day. A few steps closer and the odour that drifted off his expensive suit confirmed her theory. She held her breath as the man leaned forward to place the customary kiss on her right cheek.
‘Angelus Fiero—I’m an old friend of your father’s and a silent member of the board.’ He smiled, extending a flute of champagne towards her. ‘I hope you don’t mind me following you?’
She accepted the glass, pasting a polite smile on her face and ignoring the shiver of unease in her spine. He took a seat directly across from her on a low cushioned bench that bordered the delicate curved rail of the deck.
‘You seem to be taking your job as CEO very seriously. I have heard of your divine talent. Ruling with an iron fist and a perfect smile. Turning things from rotten wood into finely polished oak,’ he said cryptically, with a strange glimmer in his eyes. ‘Tell me...is it a new company protocol to bypass a direct order from the executor of someone’s will?’
Dani paused, the champagne flute inches from her lips.
‘I’d bet Marchesi has no idea that you were the one to apply for Duarte’s death certificate, has he?’
Dani initially fought the urge to shout that Valerio was not her keeper. But then her logical brain processed the man’s words and she didn’t speak, her mind utterly frozen in confusion. Who was this man, with his all too knowing eyes and his knowledge of top-secret information?
There was no proof that she’d been the one to file the request for Duarte’s death certificate—she’d used a notary and the company name as a group entity. Not that she’d been planning to keep it a secret—not until Valerio’s furious reaction, anyway. She’d planned to tell him eventually.
