A Scandal in the Headlines - By Caitlin Crews Page 0,49

over again. As if she’d shone that bright light into all of that darkness within him, chasing it away at last. “Not yet.”

The helicopter ride was bumpy and noisy, despite the bulky headphones she’d been given to wear, but Elena was happy enough to stay silent while Alessandro and the assistant who’d flown out to meet him discussed Corretti Media business concerns. She soaked in the beckoning Mediterranean blue far below, and pretended the only thing in her head was the sea. The golden sun. The lovely view.

But it didn’t work. The enormity of what she’d done was like iron in her chest, making it harder and harder to breathe. It had been one thing to hand over her body, another still to offer up her story to his mercy, such as it was. But she was very much afraid that, today, Alessandro had demanded she give him her soul.

And she’d done it.

She couldn’t believe she’d actually done it.

Too soon, the helicopter was making its way through the Palermo skyline, and then setting down on the roof of the landmark Corretti Media tower. Elena climbed out slowly, staying behind Alessandro and the assistant who hadn’t stopped talking in all this time, trying to pretend she was not in the least bit overwhelmed. That she gave away her soul like it was little more than a trinket every day of the week. That she was in control of this.

“Signorina Calderon and I are going to eat something,” Alessandro said then, breaking into his assistant’s stream of chatter in a steely tone she’d never heard before. It brought Elena back to the present with a jolt.

“But, sir,” his assistant said in a rush. “Since you’ve been gone, your family …” His voice trailed off as Alessandro glared at him, but he visibly rallied. “The Battaglia situation is only getting more heated, and time is nearly up for the new docklands proposal—”

“I will come into the office later, Giovanni,” Alessandro said with wintry finality.

Elena’s stomach twisted. He was cold, harsh, commanding—but with none of that dark fire she knew so well beneath it. This must be Alessandro, the much-feared and much-respected CEO. Alessandro, the eldest Corretti heir. No wonder people spoke of him in such awed, cowed tones. He was terrifying.

“My apologies,” his assistant said smoothly, inclining his head. “Of course, that is perfect. We will expect you after lunch.”

“If you want me to sign those papers,” Alessandro continued in an impatient tone, stalking across the rooftop toward the entrance to the building, “I suggest you do it in the elevator. Quietly.”

Elena walked faster as Alessandro’s assistant got on his mobile, ordering the car brought around and demanding that someone make sure that Alessandro’s favorite table was waiting for him. She reminded herself to breathe as she stepped into the shiny, gold-plated elevator where Alessandro waited, looking for all the world like a surly, caged animal. Dangerous and unpredictable.

The elevator started its descent. Alessandro signed the papers his assistant handed him on a hardbacked folder, one after the next. Without bothering to read them, Elena thought in some surprise—but then he scowled down at one of them.

“These terms are unacceptable. As both you and Di Rossi are well aware.”

“He insisted that you had caved,” his assistant said mildly, as if he heard that tone from Alessandro every day.

“Send it back,” Alessandro ordered. “If he has a problem with it, tell him he can take it up with me personally.”

His assistant’s brows rose. That was obviously a threat.

The elevator stopped smoothly, discharging Alessandro’s assistant on one of the higher floors, and then the doors swished shut and they were alone again. Elena told herself there was no reason at all to be so nervous. Alessandro lounged against the far wall of the car, looking deceptively languid in what was clearly a bespoke suit, the way it marveled over every fine line of his physique. The bright golden walls seemed to shrink into her as the car kept moving. His dark green eyes found hers, and Elena’s heart picked up speed.

“Second thoughts?” he asked softly. A challenge.

“You’re a very formidable man,” she said. “Do you enjoy it?”

He only watched her, that arrogant face a study in careless, encompassing masculine power. His dark brows rose in query.

“Wielding that kind of authority like that,” she said. “Making that poor man jump through your hoops without even the faintest pretense of politeness.”

Dark green eyes lit with amusement. “Are you calling me rude, Elena? Or just a bad boss?”

“If