Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, Gianna dressed in a simple black dress with capped sleeves. She paired it with four-inch Manolo Blahnik shoes, the heels providing a staccato burst over the terracotta tiles inlaid with marble. Orianna's villa had been in her family for generations, built in the traditional architecture of the time. Upgraded over the years, it still maintained warmth amongst the luxury. It rested overlooking the crystal-clear blue water of the Ionian Sea, breathtaking each and every time she looked at it.

She smiled and greeted the staff as she made her way across the villa, to the rooms that contained her security measures. Before entering, she knocked, and the door immediately opened. Caelian stepped back to allow her into the war room, as she called it, because it was here that their plan would begin to manifest.

"Do you have an update?" she asked the man sitting behind a bank of computers and monitors.

The tech guru, Seth, hummed a little as he glanced over at her. He'd been working as one of Pietro Romanelli's cyber security men when Seth's wife made one little accidental slip up, blabbing personal information about the Romanelli's house to a friend. It had gotten back to Pietro, so he arranged for her to be taken, raped, and returned to her husband in pieces. A warning to everyone not to talk about the Romanelli syndicate.

Orianna had found many people like Seth, either former employees or just ordinary citizens affected by the crime Pietro unleashed on them. She brought them into her fold, forming an alliance all in the name of toppling the mighty kingpin. In the past three years, a plan slowly emerged, started when Orianna asked, "what would Macy Moore have done." With a strong-willed determination, she had transformed into Gianna. Rising like a phoenix but seeking vengeance like the mythological Furies. Unceasing, judging, ready to give sweet revenge.

"Cameras? Audio?" she asked.

"Cameras are all operational, and the mics will definitely pick up any whispered words Pietro might say to Matteo," Seth reported. "Caelian and I tested and retested them."

"Mauro, pull me out of this upcoming shitshow after twenty minutes."

He nodded in understanding.

She looked at the diamond encrusted watch on her wrist, noting it was almost time for action. The blatant wealth she now lived with unsettled her at times, especially when she remembered how Macy had worked two jobs just to survive, but it was a necessary prop when dealing with the mafia. The only good thing about having money was that she was now able to afford the medicine she needed.

"They just pulled up to the gate," Seth said, nodding to one of his computer screens.

"All right," she said, taking a deep breath. "Showtime."

She turned and left the war room, Mauro on her heels. Caelian had been instructed not to intervene unless she was in trouble.

A few minutes later, Mauro led the guests into the sitting room. The bifold glass doors were open, allowing the cool breeze from the Ionian Sea to blow inside. Gianna stood and held out her hand. Pietro took it and kissed the back of it, offering her a wide smile.

"You look just like your mother," he murmured. "So very beautiful."

"Thank you," she replied. She wanted to rub the lingering saliva from the back of her hand, but couldn't. She kept repeating in her head that she had to play a part. Her gaze flickered to Matteo, only to see he stared at her with carefully blank eyes. He gave away nothing about what he was thinking. Without her veil she was able to see the minute changes that three years had brought. His features were hard. His mouth unsmiling. The softness she'd once seen in him was nowhere to be found. "Please, have a seat. Mauro will be here shortly with refreshments."

Pietro and Matteo waited to sit until after she sat before joining her. Pietro Romanelli stared unblinkingly at her, and it made her uneasy. This was the man who still starred in her nightmares. The monster lurking in the shadows.

"You have a beautiful home," Pietro said, looking around. "Fabulous view."

"Grazie," she said. "My grandfather built it for my grandmother."

For a brief moment, anger and resentment flashed over his features. "I met your grandfather. Savvy business man."

"Yes," she said. "He was."

Mauro rolled in the dessert cart, which also held a carafe of coffee and a decanter with 30-year double cask single malt scotch. No surprise, Pietro chose the scotch with the prosciutto and provolone-stuffed peppadew peppers. Mauro fixed his drink and plate, then served him, leaning over to place the offerings on the glass top coffee table.

Matteo only chose coffee.

Once Mauro left, she let Pietro eat for a moment before getting down to the nitty gritty. "I believe you're here because of the marriage contract my grandmother made with you."

She glanced at Matteo, catching a look of displeasure that rippled over his face before he smoothed it over. He met her gaze, and she saw that anger and resentment from yesterday bubbled just below the surface. What did he have to be angry about? She was the wronged party. She was the one he had tried to kill.

Pietro nodded and set his glass down. "We are. I thought it might be prudent to finalize the wedding details. Unless…"

She cocked her head. "Unless?"

"Unless you'd be happier with me, instead of my son."

Her mouth dropped open for a moment before sanity returned and she closed it with a snap. What the fuck? Matteo frowned at his father, a look of disgust briefly crossing over his features before returning to that blank mask he seemed to have perfected. It gave her the impression that all wasn't quite so copacetic between them.

"How flattering," she said, being careful not to put the revulsion of that idea in her response. This was the man who had beat her, tortured her. He had put the muzzle of his gun in her face and pulled the trigger. If it hadn't been for Gunner sabotaging it, she'd be dead. The need to pick up the serrated cutting knife resting on the breakfast cart and stab him over and over until he was a bloody pulp on her floor was strong. It took all her strength to not give into temptation.

At that moment, Pietro's phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket, glancing down at the screen. "I have to take this call," he said.

"There's an office through those doors," she said, pointing to French doors at the far side of the room. Without another word, he hurried to it and entered, closing the door behind him.

Leaving her and her ex-lover alone.

"There's a third option."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you about to say to not get married?"

"Seems obvious. The terms of the contract could be laid to rest with your grandmother."

She'd like nothing more, but that wasn't part of the plan.

"Look," he said harshly, interrupting her thoughts. "There's no need to prolong this farce of a merger."

"I'm not sure your father would like that."

"My life doesn't belong to my father," he said roughly. "You're a rich, beautiful woman who can have anything in the world."

"True, but that's not how our world works, is it?"

Anger flared on his face before he quickly blanked it out. "You can't tell me you want to marry me."

"No, I don't," she admitted. "But there is a caveat to my grandmother's will."

His brow furrowed. "What kind of caveat?"

"She wanted me to marry you. Why? I've not a clue. But in order for me to gain my full trust fund, I have to follow her wishes."

"So, it's about money?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "Isn't it always? Look, I don't expect much from you. After we say our I do's you can resume your life, and fuck whoever catches your fancy."

His eyes narrowed. "Is that what you plan to do? Fuck whoever you want?"

"I'm not sure why you're so upset," she said. "Most men would jump at the chance for their wife to give them the go-ahead on new pussy."

He rose and headed from the house, through the open bifold glass door to skirt around the pool as he stared at the deep blue sea. Gianna followed, unsure what was going on with Matteo.

"What's wrong?" she demanded as she stood next to him.

"You," he muttered under his breath. "You're the wrong fucking person." Whether or not he wanted her to hear that was up for debate. He ran his hand through his hair, disheveling the strands. "Fuck it. If this marriage is what you really want, then I'll agree. But I have conditions."

She turned to fully face him, crossing her arms over her chest. "And they are?"

"This marriage will be a real one. We can start out getting to know one another, but eventually, I will need children."

"Need? Not want?"

"I'll need an heir. So, until I get that, I insist on fidelity. If you have an itch, it'll be me who scratches it."

That surprised her. "Seriously? You want me to be faithful while you won't be? No, I don't think so."

"I have no desire to bed any random pussy."

"Hm," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I would have figured you'd have at least a mistress or two."

Grief flashed across his features, but before she could ask him about it, it was gone. "I have no one, nor do I want anyone. I've been leading a war for the past three years."

Three years? That confused her. "War?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. It'll hopefully be over soon."

There was something dark and bitter in his tone. His eyes defocused, as if his thoughts sent him down a long, winding path. A memory, she figured. The question was of what. Or who. Before she could question him more, Pietro Romanelli stepped onto the pool deck.

"Beautiful view!" he said enthusiastically as he joined them. "So, Gianna, have you come to a decision about who to marry?"

Looking at his puffed-up ego, she realized he really thought she'd choose him. The thought of Pietro Romanelli touching her filled her with revulsion. "I think we'll stick with the original contract."

The smile faded from his face. For a brief second, rage flashed in his eyes. "If that's what you wish."

She kept her emotions to herself, but it wouldn't be long until she brought down the House of Romanelli.

"It is."

Mauro took that moment to step into view, hovering near the door to wait for permission to enter. She gave him a slight nod, and he headed toward her. He held out a small envelope. She took it and opened it, reading through the quickly scrawled note. Then she put it back in the envelope and handed it back to Mauro.

"I'll be done shortly."

Mauro inclined his head, turned, and retreated. Gianna looked at her two guests.

"I'm sorry I have to cut this meeting so short. Why don't I get Mauro to coordinate all the wedding details." She looked directly at Matteo. "Do you want to marry here or in the States?"

"I don't care," he said.

"Fine. I'll hash it all out and let you know." She rose to her feet and the two men followed her lead. "Caelian will show you out. It's been … lovely."

She watched them leave, and as soon as the taillights faded down the long drive, Gianna spun and marched quickly to the war room. Caelian followed. With a warning knock, she waited for Seth to buzz her in.

"Tell me you recorded Pietro's call," she said.

Seth gave her a pointed stare. "I hope that was a joke."

"Of course," she replied, trying not to smile. Seth was touchy when it came to questioning his tech abilities.

He sniffed as he brought up the video. Pietro mainly talked in abstract sentences, but it wasn't until he was just about to hang up that he revealed an important detail.

"…I'm still in Italy. No, I have a meeting tomorrow with the capo dei capi. I swear to fucking God, he's a dumb shit. How do you think I managed to fool everyone in Chicago? No, I'm not worried. Besides, I still have a fortune the family knows nothing about. Well, I will as soon as I find the asshole stealing from me."

The rest of the call was unimportant chatter, and when he ended the call, Seth paused the video.

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" Gianna asked.

"Um, yeah," Caliean replied, blinking in shock.

"What is capo dei capi?" Seth asked.

"Boss of all bosses," Caelian translated.

"Wait," Gianna said, holding her hands up. "I thought Pietro Romanelli was the don."

"Apparently not." Caelian frowned. "Does that make Pietro an underboss? Or is he a capo?"

"Not sure, but he's portraying himself as the don," she said. "You know this changes everything, right?"

Caelian nodded. "Specifically, our plan. Although I still don't know why we don't just snipe his ass."

"I don't want him to just die," Gianna said. "I want him to pay."

"You think Matteo knows about his father?" Mauro asked.

"I don't know," Caelian replied, folding his arms across his chest. "If he does, they're both operating without the head of the Famiglia's knowledge. If Pietro isn't the don, but is able to function as one without drawing attention, then the real head of the Romanelli family has to be one of the elders."

"Maybe the elder is too old to fully function in the role and is relying on Pietro," Gianna suggested.

"And Pietro has taken advantage of the fact no one is checking up on him," Caelian added. "We need to figure out who it is."

"I can investigate that," Mauro volunteered.

"Boys," Gianna said, feeling smug. "I think we have a change of plans. Seth, can you do research on Pietro's assets? Every piece of property. Every bank account. Every investment. Anywhere he could hide large sums of cash I want to know about it. And then I'm going to invite the real capo dei capi to the wedding."