THE ROSSI EMPIRE

CHAPTER 4- Lord D's Letter

The letter was short, the handwriting elegant and unbothered, as though its author had never once in his life worried about anyone saying no to him.

The young cub, Valentina, is all grown up into a strong lioness.

I look forward to closing a deal with you. Payment in diamonds. Name your price.

Tuesday, 6 p.m. If interested, send word across. The venue will be communicated shortly.

-D-

I read it twice before setting it down on the desk, my expression carefully neutral despite the way my pulse had picked up.

"What is it?" Marco asked, curiosity evident. "You have gone quiet."

I handed him the letter instead of answering. He scanned it, eyebrows rising.

"He's offering a diamond deal," Marco said slowly, surprise coloring his voice. "Direct contact, no intermediaries. Wow that's a great catch, Valentina. Lord D doesn't deal directly with anyone. Not even families twice our size."

"Exactly," Dante said, taking the letter from Marco and reading it himself, his expression far less impressed. "To what do we owe this, after years of keeping our boundaries with the Draven family?" He looked up, his tone sharpening with warning. "They're ruthless. Bloodthirsty mafiosi. This isn't a courtesy, Valentina."

"Finally," I said quietly. "Someone gets my point."

Marco glanced between us, confused. "It's a business opportunity. A good one."

"It's not just a deal," I said, standing, my mind already working through the layers beneath the letter's polite language. "It's an introduction. He's not interested in diamonds, Marco. He has more wealth than half the families in this city combined. He wants something more."

"He's too dangerous," Dante said flatly.

"I know." I answered

"So what do we do?" Marco asked, and I could hear the shift in his voice now the realization finally settling in that this wasn't the opportunity he'd first assumed it to be.

I looked at the letter one more time before answering. "We send our word."

Dante's jaw tightened, but after a moment, he nodded in agreement not happily, but with the understanding that ignoring Lord Draven entirely would be its own kind of danger.

"Call a meeting," I said. "Gather the rest of the team. We're going to discuss this properly before we respond to anything."

He nodded once and left without another word.

Marco turned to follow him out, but I stopped him before he reached the door.

"Marco."

He turned back.

"About that doctor." I kept my voice even, deliberately casual. "Could you look into everything about him?"

Marco studied me for a long moment, one eyebrow raised in a look that asked *are you serious* far louder than words could have.

I realized, almost immediately, exactly how that sounded.

"I just want to be sure he isn't a spy, or working for someone else," I added quickly. "You said it yourself, this is a dangerous game. We can't afford blind trust, even toward people who've already helped us." I added confidently without leaving any suspicions.

It wasn't entirely a lie. It just wasn't entirely the truth either.

Marco seemed to accept it, nodding slowly before turning and walking out, the door clicking shut behind him.

I exhaled, the breath leaving me in a rush I hadn't realized I was holding.

*That was close.*

I sat on my bed long after the house had gone quiet, still thinking about him.

His composure. His integrity. His humility, his quiet contentment with so little compared to everything I could have offered.

The polite, almost formal way he carried himself, reserved, never overfamiliar, never fishing for favor the way everyone else in my life seemed to.

I thought about the way he hadn't so much as glanced twice at Elena's flirting, unmoved by it in a way that had nothing to do with rudeness and everything to do with restraint. A gentleman.

A man with dignity intact in a world that rarely rewarded it.

I couldn't explain why I was thinking about him this much. I told myself it was simple curiosity…

The same curiosity I gave to anything I didn't fully understand yet. It didn't feel entirely true.

An hour later

A knock interrupted my thoughts. "Come in."

Marco stepped inside, a slim folder in hand, and I sat up before I could stop myself, far more eager than I wanted to appear.

"Adrian Hayes," Marco began, flipping the folder open. "Age thirty-four."

*Four years,* I thought instantly, doing the math without meaning to. I was twenty-nine soon to be thirty in a few weeks. It shouldn't have mattered. It did, somehow, in a way that annoyed me.

"Relationship status: single."

I smiled before I could help it, then quickly smoothed my expression before Marco could notice.

"He's a practicing physician," Marco continued, unaware or politely ignoring whatever had flickered across my face. "Current residence, employment history, education." He listed off details in the clipped, efficient tone he used for every report, sliding the folder toward me. "Family background's clean, modest upbringing, no criminal ties, no red flags of any kind. As thorough as it gets."

I scanned the pages slowly, intrigued by every line. A decent, modest background. No inherited wealth, no shortcuts, no family name doing the work for him. Could that be it, I wondered. The reason for the humility. The contentment. A man who built what he had instead of being handed it.

"Anything else you'd like to know?" Marco asked.

"No," I said, closing the folder. "Thank you, Marco. That'll be all for now. You're dismissed."

He nodded and left without question, the door clicking shut behind him.

I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, the quiet of the room suddenly louder than it had any right to be.

I wonder if he thinks about me the way I'm thinking about him.

The thought embarrassed me almost as soon as it formed. And yet his words kept replaying in my head, unbidden, refusing to let me move past them.

"No one turns that down."

"I'm not interested in being owned, Miss Rossi."

"Everything is a business proposal."

"Not to me."

And then, quieter than the rest, the one that had stayed with me longest: "I have a job I believe in, at a hospital full of people who need me just as much as your cousin did tonight."

I smiled faintly at the ceiling, alone in a room no one could see me in, and let myself feel something I hadn't allowed in a very long time.

I smiled faintly at the thought still lingering in my chest, then let my eyes drift toward the window.

Evening had settled over the city in that particular shade of gold it always wore just before the streetlights took over, cars moving steadily to and fro along the avenue below, people heading home from lives that had nothing to do with mine, ordinary and uncomplicated in a way I rarely let myself envy.

Then the idea struck, sudden and reckless in a way that should have embarrassed me more than it did.

Why don't I go to his hospital?

I sat with the thought for exactly as long as it took to dismiss every reasonable objection to it, then stood, changed into something simple enough not to draw attention. I wore dark jeans, a plain top, hair pulled back instead of styled the way it usually was for anything involving business or appearances. No security detail trailing behind me. No Marco hovering with questions. Just me, alone, doing something I couldn't entirely justify even to myself.