Chapter 42

Was that a freaking helicopter that just landed on the lawn?

Didn't movie villains always arrive in ominous black helicopters?

Zipping up the back of my borrowed, off-the-shoulder, Sarra Porcelain Flower Ralph Loren dress, I dug through my purse looking for my phone. I had placed it on silent/vibrate last night so no one would know if I had received a text or phone call from Antonia during dinner but me.

It wasn't in my purse.

My heart raced. Had Matteo taken it? I dumped my purse out to double-check. There wasn't anything incriminating on the phone per se, but there were the multiple calls from Fino and all my calls to Antonia.

That was when I remembered, I left it in the library. I had stashed it there right before meeting with Fino because I wanted it close.

After listening at the top of the main staircase for signs of life, I crept down the stairs and tiptoed down the hallway to the library. So far, the villa was quiet. With all the animated talk about clearing away brush, fixing machinery, and approving wine label graphics at dinner last night, it was more than likely they were all at work.

Although I considered myself a disciplined person when it came to practicing my cello, being forbidden to work by my father had led to the rather lazy habit of sleeping in late. I consoled myself with the fact that I usually rose by ten a.m. compared to my sister who never showed her face before noon.

Despite that, I was exhausted and… rattled.

Last night with Matteo was… different.

Between his domineering and kinky ways and my pretending I was my sister, in a way, I had been able to disassociate myself during our escapades. I was free to respond and take pleasure in things that should have shocked me to the core, because it was me, but it wasn't me. Like putting on a costume and pretending just for a little while that I was this desirable, sexually promiscuous wanton.

And even when we had sex for the first time, there was still an atmosphere of high emotion and anger and pent-up passion that made it frenzied and almost chaotic.

But last night…

Last night was quiet and… intimate.

There was no hiding behind a mask. Funny how we first met at a masquerade and how, up until last night, I had kept that facade like body armor.

But last night…

There was no hiding. I'd been scared and vulnerable. Naked in every sense of the word.

The comforting strength of his powerful arms as they held me tight until I fell asleep with him still inside of me was borderline a religious experience. It was as if I transcended all the chaos around me. As if he had lifted me out of my body and mind to place me safely in the clouds.

It was fanciful nonsense of course, but I couldn't help wondering if that was what love was supposed to feel like. As if he had me safely curled up in the shelter of his palm and nothing or no one could hurt me.

Then with the glaring light of the morning sun, reality crashed me back to earth.

My head swiveled from left to right, then left again, triple-checking that the coast was clear before I ducked into the library. I went straight to a far shelf where I had wedged my phone between an English copy of Bonfire of the Vanities and La Divine Commedia.

How prophetic of me.

The screen glowed in the dim room as I checked my text and voice messages.

Nothing.

Damn her.

I pressed Antonia's contact and was startled when she answered after only two rings, having once more been expecting to get her voicemail again.

"Hello?"

Nothing. Just the sound of rustling.

"Hello? Antonia? Are you there?"

More rustling.

My alarm rose. "Toni?"

"Ella, is that you?"

Her voice was strained and high-pitched. "It's me. What's going on?"

At first, she didn't respond, there was just the sound of more rustling and her erratic breathing. "I'm in trouble, Ella."

"Oh my God! Where are you? Toni, talk to me."

This time there was a bang and a clatter as if she had dropped the phone. "What's happening?"

In my agitation, I pulled my phone away and checked the screen as if it would suddenly switch to video or a map.

"Ella, you have to help me."

"What's going on? Is it Father? Does he know?"

"Ella, you have to— No! No! Please, we didn't mean it! Please!"

"Toni? Who's there with you? What's happening?"

A piercing, bloodcurdling scream was my only answer.

Then the line went dead.

For several seconds I just stood there staring at my black phone screen, not able to fully take in what just happened. Then my body shook, my mouth opening on a scream.

Falling to my knees, I tried calling her over and over again, shouting into the dead phone line, "Toni? Toni! Oh my God! Oh my God!"

Tears clouded my vision, and my hand shook so badly I dropped the phone several times.

No matter how many times I called, there was no answer.

It didn't even ring.

As if her phone were dead… as if she were… oh my God!

My phone fell from my hand as I clutched at my middle and rocked back and forth.

What had we done?

What had we done?

Strong hands lifted me from the floor and turned me into a solid chest. A powerful arm circled over my shoulders while another pressed my head against a masculine shoulder.

As I continued to shake and tremble, the hold on me tightened. "Shhh. Shhh."

At first, I thought it was Matteo. It took several moments for my shell-shocked mind to catch up to what was happening.

It was the man's cologne, an icy scent of juniper, pepper, and sage.

It lacked the spicy warmth of Matteo's, which smelled more like pinewood and burnt sugar.

And this chest was solid and firm but different from Matteos bulkier muscles.

I pulled my head back sharply and stared up into the towering form of… diavolo.

The sinfully handsome man with piercing black eyes and jet-black hair smiled.

That was when I realized I had whispered the word, devil, out loud.

It wasn't my fault.

The man had appeared like Mephistopheles, straight out of Doctor Faustus. Dressed in unrelenting black, his lowered brow, high cheekbones and sharp jawline turned his appearance into the living embodiment of the devil or some classic villain from literature.

"That isn't the first time I've been mistaken for the devil by a beautiful woman."

His voice was like ice sliding on glass, cold and smooth.

With my palms, I tried to break his embrace. "I'm so sorry. You startled me."

He held tight as he cupped my cheek and wiped away my tears with the side of his thumb. "What has made you cry, bellissima?"

I was too overwrought to lie. "My sister, Antonia. Something has happened to her."

His large hand moved to stroke my hair. "Ah, you must be Matteo Cavalieri's piccolo piantagrane."

I bristled at being called Matteo's little troublemaker. "You presume too much, signore. Please unhand me."

His gaze narrowed as his lips thinned.

I was sure the rolling thunder I just heard was only in my imagination.

Or at least was pretty sure.

"Careful, piccolo piantagrane. This stunt of yours has made you many enemies. I wouldn't recommend adding me to the list."

A fist twisted inside my chest as my lungs seized. I had to force my words out. "Were you sent by my father to kill me?"

His eyebrow lifted. "I give those type of orders, I don't take them. Especially not from an insignificant zip from some backwater town. But tell me, why would you assume your father wants you dead?"

My father would go absolutely apoplectic if he heard this man referring to him as a zip, essentially an unsophisticated and undisciplined Sicilian mafioso with no skill or tact.

"Who are you?"

His hand moved to my chin. Tilting my head back, he glared down at me. "Do I strike you as a patient or kind man?"

My eyes widened as I jerked back, once more trying to break free.

His grip on me was too powerful.

I licked my lips, regretting the action the moment his gaze fixated on my mouth. I shook my head, then whispered, "No, signore."

Common sense would have dictated that I lie to placate him, but the dangerous energy that literally radiated off him like cold fusion warned me against it.

He nodded as the corner of his mouth lifted. "Exactly. So why would you risk annoying me by asking me a question instead of answering mine?"

The lump of fear in my throat nearly choked me. "I'm sorry."

There was a subtle tic over his right cheek as he waited for me to continue. Clearly, he was losing patience with me, something he had all but warned me would be detrimental to my well-being.

Again, my mind screamed for me to lie, lie, lie my ass off, but I couldn't.

Like the devil, this man's soulless black eyes seemed to see right through me.

"Because I think he murdered my mother years ago and may have just harmed my sister."

There was a bitter taste in my mouth after uttering the accusation out loud. I wasn't sure if it was because he was a stranger, my fear, or the strange sense of betrayal from telling this man before I confided in Matteo.

Without a word, he released me.

I fell backward against the bookshelves. Reaching behind me, I clutched at the nearby fireplace mantle to remain upright, since I didn't trust my knees not to buckle again.

Keeping his unnerving gaze on me, he reached into his designer black suit jacket.

I gasped, then held my breath, expecting him to pull out a gun.

Would he shoot me right here, in the middle of the Cavalieris library?

Would he at least show me the kindness of hitting me between the eyes so there would be no pain?

As badly as I wanted to, I didn't close my eyes. They burned and stung as I forced my eyelids to remain open. If he was going to shoot me in cold blood, I would at least make him look me in the eye while he did it.

My breath slipped past my lips in a rush when he pulled out a slim, gold business card holder. As he flipped it open, I saw the unmistakable family crest engraved on the top.

It was a rearing medieval dragon and unicorn protecting a large diamond and a scroll with a Latin phrase.

Crede nullis. Vince omnes.

Trust none. Conquer all.

The Diamantis.

Porca miseria. The freaking Diamantis!

Which meant this must be… uh oh.

The man pulled out a card and handed it to me. "My card."

It was heavy, black card stock with the same family crest embossed in gold and ice blue. On the other side it had only his name and a six-digit code under it, no email or phone number. As if you needed to be a member of some ultra-secret society to be able to contact him.

Sebastian Diamanti

13 7 23 3

I should have recognized him. Most people outside of Italy knew him as the CEO and heir to the House of Diamanti, a diamond and jewelry empire dating back over a hundred years.

But Italians knew better.

Sebastian Diamanti was one of the most dangerous men—and the eldest son of one of the most powerful families—in all of Italy.

Certain people might fear the influence of the Sicilian mob, but they were terrified of the Diamantis. Legitimacy gave them way more power. It was the same reason Fino was showing so much interest in the Cavalieris. They were equally wealthy and influential, although their reputation wasnt quite as ruthless. Only because they were tucked away in Abruzzo as opposed to Rome, where the Diamantis lived.

"Thank you." I didn't know what else to say.

In the tense silence, I glanced down at my phone as my eyes filled with tears.

His hand covered the screen. "No more of that. You're a Cavalieri now.

I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand. "No I'm not." I sounded like a petulant child but didn't care.

Sebastian chuckled. "Fair enough. You soon will be a Cavalieri. They protect their own. And they have the full support of my family in doing so. No matter what is required."

The weight of his words hung heavy between us.

I sniffed. "But my sister."

He buttoned his suit jacket. "Matteo was right. You are adorably sweet and very loyal. Almost too loyal. Don't worry, piccolo piantagrane. Your man is aware there is no happiness with you, without first securing the well-being of that sister of yours."

That sister of mine.So it seemed he was aware of Antonia's reputation for trouble. If anything she was the little troublemaker not me. Although I guessed I now shared in that after the last few days.

But wait. Matteo had talked about me to him?

It was silly but it definitely gave me a warm, fluttery feeling to know he had spoken about me.

Me.

Not my sister or me pretending to be my sister, but me.

He touched my cheek. "No more tears. Now, I must go meet with your man to discuss how we are going to deal with the both of you without causing a nasty little war."

I stepped forward. "I should go with you."

His back was already turned to me. He barely bothered to turn around, only casting a quick glance over his shoulder. "Absolutely not. Matteo will handle this for you. It's his duty as your future husband."

And with that he was gone.

I looked around the room, half expecting to see a puff of smoke. I knew I wasn't imagining that the room seemed warmer without him in it.

I shivered.

Just then my mobile rang.

It was Antonia.

"Toni? Are you okay?"

"Ella?"

"Yes, it's me. Are you okay?"

"Help me, Ella. Help me," she rasped before the line once more went dead.

No matter how many times I tried to call her back, she didn't answer.

I stared at the empty doorway where Sebastian had just been. He had said the men were planning something, but he had also called Antonia that sister of yours.

Could I trust them to prioritize saving her? They didn't even know she was pregnant. Would that make her chances better or worse?

My hand tightened around my phone.

I couldn't risk that chance.

Family was family.

Sicily was at least ten hours' drive from Abruzzo not counting the ferry.

If I left now, I would be there before midnight.

My decision made, I ran upstairs and grabbed my purse before sneaking out of the villa to the stables, where I knew Matteo's Alfa Romeo would be… with the keys in the ignition.