were assured by his statement that no one there would do anything rash—like find Haydon and kill him. Vittorio was hoping his own intentions weren’t stamped on his forehead for the world to see—because he was definitely going after that asshole and taking him out permanently.
Maybe he should feel some sympathy for Haydon, because for Grace to love him so much, he must have been a decent human being at one time, but Vittorio didn’t. Grace had gone through the same things Haydon had, although from what Rigina had uncovered so far, Haydon had tried to protect Grace and taken the brunt of the abuse. Still, from everything the investigators had found in the short time they’d had, she remained a decent, hardworking, honorable human being. One who gave way too much love and loyalty to a douchebag who deserved neither.
“We’re going to be scrutinized by the press,” Ricco said. “No one has caught a glimpse of Vittorio with Grace. Were they at any event at the same time? We need to start building a plausible story for them.”
Emme nodded. “I’m on that already. Rigina has helped me, sending all the charity events Vittorio went to in the past year and a half.” She looked up at him. “You attended thirteen large and well-publicized events as well as three smaller ones. Four were for brain traumas, six for cancer research, three for women’s shelters and the three smaller ones were to raise money for rescues for animals. Eloisa put on most of the bigger events.”
“Animals?” Giovanni said. “When did you do that, Vittorio?”
Vittorio flipped him off.
Sasha looked up at her husband. “Giovanni, are you giving your brother a hard time when you just this morning told me about the horse rescue—”
Giovanni wrapped his hand around his wife’s mouth, laughing, his eyes dancing. “Not the time, woman. What are you thinking?”
Vittorio found himself laughing along with his brothers and the women seated at the breakfast table. That was how they were together. Discussing business one minute, and then erupting into laughter together the next. He wanted that for Grace. According to everything Rosina was sending to him, she’d never had a family—well, except that loser Haydon. Vittorio could, at least, provide that for her. He had no idea if it would be enough to balance out living with him.
That thought took his smile immediately. He was lonely. He wanted his own family. A wife. Children. Someone to come home to. Someone to care for, to take care of. He needed a purpose. His lifestyle had no balance. He needed someone to become his center, to anchor him. He recognized and owned every flaw he had. He worked to be a better man every day. He found, over time, it was getting more and more difficult to sustain who he was when he had no one of his own. No one to share his life with and to make him realize there was purpose to his work.
“Was Grace at any of the events, Emme?” Stefano asked.
Emmanuelle nodded. “KB Events put on nine of the fund-raisers he attended. Katie Branscomb’s reputation is impeccable. Everyone tries for her first, and she’s so busy, you have to book her over a year in advance. Grace worked behind the scenes at all nine, including the dinners. According to Katie, she couldn’t do what she does without Grace.”
Grace had been at nine events over the last year and half and he hadn’t seen her? Why hadn’t his sixth sense kicked in until last night? His radar should have gone off. At the very least, his shadow should have connected with hers. When there was a group, sometimes it was difficult to sort them out, but the sexual jolt was so strong when his shadow connected with Grace’s there was no way he wouldn’t have noticed.
“We can build off that,” Taviano said. “You met her at one of the events and you fell for her on the spot. She was leery—after all, you have a bad reputation as a playboy, bro, so you courted the old-fashioned way out of the spotlight.”
Francesca laughed. “What is old-fashioned, Taviano? Taking a woman out on a date without jumping her?”
“Jumping her?” Stefano echoed. He brought Francesca’s hand to his mouth and sucked on her fingers for a long moment. “You can’t say things like that, baby. It puts ideas in my head.”
“As if you don’t have those ideas twenty-four seven,” Francesca accused, laughing, leaning toward him.