“I’d very much like to do this peacefully,” I said, sipping from a delicate porcelain cup of espresso. “Life is too short to war, yes?”
We both knew I was giving Giuseppe Rossi the courtesy of bowing out peacefully and without the extermination of the last of his family. That was better than he’d given any of his rivals, yet I didn’t want this to end in bloodshed. Nor did I care to dismantle his entire operation and start from scratch.
Dying of cancer, he scowled at me from his hospital bed surrounded by machines keeping him alive. The opulent ground floor room must have been his study in the past, and still contained priceless art and shelves full of books, along with a large mahogany desk pushed in a corner.
I might not fear him, but he wasn’t a man to be taken lightly. His legal businesses were worth a fortune, yet it was the assets on the other side of the ethical divide I was most interested in.
“You’ll take everything whether I agree or not,” he rasped softly, sucking air from an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth.
“I will, but if you agree to make me your heir, your lovely wife will be cared for, and I will leave her inheritance intact.” I strode to the nightstand and touched a photo of Mariana Rossi, still beautiful despite her years and a vulnerable target. In fact, she was in the kitchen overseeing the preparation of our lunch. “She’ll be treated as if she was my own mother for the rest of her days.”
“You would bring my wife into our business?”
“I have never once broken a vow, Signore Rossi. You should know that better than anyone. When I say she will be cared for, it will happen if I have to wrap her in cotton wool myself. Of course, the opposite is true as well.”
He paled, but kept his face impassive, not mistaking my unspoken threat for anything else. I’d let him worry about it, but his wife would remain safe regardless of his decision. My late, unlamented father would have already had her executed. I preferred not to involve innocents if I could help it.
Mariana was the one thing for which I envied him. What must it be like to have such a woman, obedient and devoted to me? One who I could take at will. I didn’t want any of the dozens of women clamoring for space in my bed for the chance at wealth and privilege.
None of them appealed to me. I needed a woman strong enough to bear the weight of the Moretti name, but who would also bow to my wishes.
Giuseppe had no living sons to block my path, but he did have a granddaughter. She’d been barely seven the last time I’d seen her, and had a brilliant toothless smile and eyes like the Mediterranean on a cloudless day.
Would she still be as sweet and innocent as I remembered?
I pushed the thought away. There was no time for such foolishness. Marriage to her would make me Giuseppe’s heir in truth. Gathering my thoughts, I said, “Your granddaughter, Donatella. I will marry her to legitimize my claim.”
“You know perfectly well your father ordered a hit on Donatella and her mother twenty years ago,” he replied, closing his eyes to give a remarkable impression of grief. “Get out of my house.”
He was either lying, or truly wasn’t aware Donatella was alive. Someone had hidden them very well in the United States under assumed names, although Lelia Rossi died of cancer when Donatella was in college.
“My apologies.” I inclined my head and followed the maid from the room.
I considered telling him I’d already found her, but decided to hold my peace. There would be time enough to give him the rest of my demands when I caught up to her.
Aside from his granddaughter, Giuseppe would give me the Bride Collar.
Created by a master jeweler in the sixteenth century, the Bride Collar was a priceless symbol of domination over an enemy. Traditionally, it would have been placed around the neck of the defeated opponent’s most