The Italian's Final Redemption - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,30

gone to his mother as the shock of the assassination of a major player echoed through the crime families of Europe. She’d merely shrugged her shoulders.

‘As I told you, Vincenzo. It’s just business. So I would get used to it if I were you.’

She’d given him another of those radiant smiles.

‘If you want to remain part of this family, that is, which I’m sure you do. You’ve already done so much for us as it is...’

But he knew he would never get used to it, just as he knew what his mother had issued with that lovely smile was a threat. She’d never done that before, but he understood what it was all the same. A reminder of his own actions, that he wasn’t innocent and never would be, and that what she gave she could also take away.

It was in that moment that he’d realised what he was to her: not a son but a tool to build her empire. She’d never loved him. He’d never been her handsome boy. He’d been spoiled and pampered and paid attention to, but only so she could turn him into her creature. The way his father had always been her creature.

So that night he’d pretended to be her loving son, her yes-man, just as he always had. Then he’d gathered what information he could about her activities and sent it to the police.

Two days later she and his father had been arrested, justice served.

But he would never again let himself be used the way his mother had used him. Never let his own feelings blind him to the truth. He would always listen to his conscience and never let his emotions sway him.

He would always do what was right, and sleeping with the little civetta because she offered, and because he wanted her, was wrong.

And he did want her. And he was furious about it.

He kept away from her the following day, to give her some distance and to give his recalcitrant body some time to rethink its choices. There were matters that needed his attention anyway. Her father was trying to contact him, no doubt to offer terms for her return, and Vincenzo was almost tempted to see what the man would say, but then, he knew anyway. Armstrong only used either bribery or threats, neither of which would work on Vincenzo. He couldn’t take his daughter by force, either, since he didn’t have the resources to touch her on Capri, not without getting allies at least, and that would take time.

Regardless, Vincenzo could afford to wait. He’d let Armstrong suffer for the next week, or for however long it took Lucy to give him the information he wanted.

So he closeted himself in his office in the villa, dealing with the thousand and one things he had to deal with, while his brain kept replaying the memory of her sitting in the dusk with her robe half-open, the shadowed curves of her body a temptation he hadn’t envisaged. The rounded shape of one breast—fuller than he’d expected, given how small she was—and the graceful arc of one hip. Her skin had been such a pretty pink, highlighted by the red silk she wore, and his desire had risen, thick and hot. Shocking in its intensity.

He wouldn’t have taken her even if she had wanted him, but he knew that she didn’t. Her eyes behind the shelter of her glasses had been very wary, the fear glittering greenly in their depths.

It had angered him, that fear. His desire angered him. Her offer had angered him.

Everything had angered him and so he’d pushed himself to his feet and left before he did something he regretted, such as reaching for her and dragging her across the table and burying that anger between her thighs.

Yet even immersing himself in business didn’t help. He felt restless and unable to concentrate, her presence an itch he couldn’t scratch, and he was further annoyed that he had to wait until the week had ended before he’d get the information he needed to take down her father.

He would have gone back to the de Santi estate himself and left her here if he could have. But he couldn’t. Even though his security was impregnable, he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. He had to be here to keep an eye on her.

She might try to manipulate him again, of course, but if she was hoping that he’d change his mind about her she was mistaken. He would not