Chapter four
652 Words
I spent the entire day in a state of panic.
Father summoned me to breakfast. Never a good sign. The formal dining room was set for two, which meant this was serious. He was already seated when I arrived, reading the Financial Times over espresso, the picture of civilized menace in a charcoal Tom Ford suit.
"Sienna. Sit."
I sat. A staff member I didn't recognize served me coffee and disappeared. We were alone.
"The background check on your friend is progressing," Father said without looking up from his paper. "Dante Rossi. Born in London, mother's maiden name, father deceased. The preliminary report is... clean. Too clean."
My heart stopped. "Too clean?"
"No debt, no criminal record, no questionable associations. For a man running a boxing gym in South London, that's unusual." He set down the paper, finally looking at me. "People that clean are either saints or very good at hiding things."
"Maybe he's just a good person."
"There are no good people in our world, Sienna. Only people who haven't been caught yet." He sipped his espresso. "I'm having Mitchell & Cross dig deeper. Financial records, family history, property ownership going back twenty years. If there's anything to find, they'll find it."
Twenty years. My stomach turned to ice. The Russo family conflict was twenty years ago.
"Why are you telling me this?" I tried to keep my voice steady.
"Because I want you to understand what's at stake." He leaned forward. "In six months, you marry Antonio Marchese. That marriage represents a fifty-million-dollar alliance, territorial agreements across two continents, and the consolidation of power that will make this family untouchable. I will not allow a gym owner with a mysterious past to compromise that."
"He's not compromising anything. It's just dinner..."
"It's never just dinner." His voice went hard. "Every relationship you have reflects on this family. Every person you bring into your orbit becomes a potential liability or asset. This Dante Rossi is neither, which makes him dangerous."
"Or it makes him normal. Someone who isn't part of this world."
Father studied me with those cold eyes. "You like him."
It wasn't a question. I didn't answer.
"Sienna." His tone softened slightly, which was somehow worse than the hardness. "I understand the appeal. A man who seems uncomplicated, who doesn't know our world, who looks at you like you're not a Valentino. But that's fantasy. The moment he learns who we really are, what we really do, he'll either run or try to use you. There's no third option."
"You don't know that."
"I've lived sixty-three years in this life. I know exactly that." He stood, straightening his cuffs. "You can see him casually until the background check is complete. If he's clean, you can enjoy your little rebellion for another five months. If he's not..." He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to.
He left, and I sat alone in the formal dining room, coffee going cold, trying not to throw up.
My phone buzzed. Text from an unknown number.
"Your car will be ready at 8pm. Same driver as last night. He's been paid well to forget where he takes you. - Leo"
My brother. Leo was helping me.
I texted back: "Why?"
His response was immediate: "Because I remember what it's like to want something that's yours. Be careful, little sister. Father's more paranoid than usual."
I stared at the message, feeling a rush of affection for my playboy brother who everyone thought was shallow. He understood. Of all of them, Leo understood.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just don't get caught. I can't protect you if Father finds out I'm helping."
Fifteen hours until I saw Dante again. Fifteen hours to decide what I was going to say when I walked into that restaurant knowing my father was investigating him, knowing something about this was wrong, knowing I should walk away. Knowing I wouldn't.
- Writer
