Page 78 of Bellini Born

Until I let my libido lead me toward an irresistible blonde bombshell, and now the whole house of cards I’d painstakingly built threatened to come tumbling down.

Damage control became my sole focus. That meant putting space between me and Summer until the heat died down and the vultures moved on to the next juicy scandal.

Though there was no telling how long that would take.

I hadn’t been home in two weeks. Putting out the fire I’d started required 24/7 attention.

The board wanted my head, and it was no small feat convincing them they wouldn’t find anyone better suited to run this company—a company that my brother and I had started from scratch, I made sure to point out. It took a boatload of promises that what had been captured on film at Euphoria would never happen again, not to mention gifting them enoughof my personal shares in Bellini Real Estate to cover the losses they’d sustained as a result of my actions.

Pretty sure that’s what finally tipped the scales in my favor, allowing me to remain at the helm as CEO. It wasn’t all that surprising; I’d learned early on in business that money truly did talk. Since I had more of it than most, I was able to use it to get pretty much whatever I wanted in this life.

Like you used it to get Summer.

Fuck. Summer.

Two weeks apart from her, from the girls, was absolute torture. But it was necessary, given the current media storm.

Hell, I’d been forced to place them under house arrest when Enzo reported that news vans were parked up and down our street. Reporters were literally beating down the front gates, hoping to catch a glimpse of Summer, to see if they could coax her into saying something they could twist out of context and exploit.

Fourteen days later, I wasn’t any closer to pulling us out of this mess because social media kept fanning the flames.

The intercom on my desk buzzed.

I pressed the button that would connect me to my executive assistant, Camille. “Yes?”

“Miss Reynolds is on the line for you.” There was a pause. “Again.”

“Tell her I’m unavailable.”

The sigh that came through the speaker spoke volumes, as did the note of disappointment in Camille’s voice when she replied with a curt, “Yes, sir.”

Summer had been trying repeatedly to reach me. And each time I declined the call because, honestly, what was there to say? I’d put her in a compromising position, practically made her into an unconsenting porn star. Issuing an “I’m sorry” at this point would be as useless as slapping a bandage over a bullet wound.It wasn’t enough but all I had to offer, because no matter how many cease-and-desists my attorneys issued, there was no way to scrub all traces of those pictures from the internet. This was one fuck-up money couldn’t fix.

Buzzzzzzz.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What now, Camille?”

“I have a Miss Gabi D’Amico calling for you.”

That wasn’t surprising. I’d made Summer’s best friend a promise that I wouldn’t hurt her, and I’d failed spectacularly. I could only imagine my distant cousin’s fingers were itching to get ahold of the gun hidden beneath the false bottom of a drawer inside my desk. Give it another few days, and I might be willing to let her come up here and put me out of my misery.

“Unavailable.” I reiterated that my status hadn’t changed.

“Yes, sir.”

Reclining in my desk chair, I let out a soul-rattling sigh.

Buzzzzzzz.

“For fuck’s sake, disconnect the damn phone!” I roared, unfairly taking out my frustration on a loyal employee.

Camille hesitated, but eventually she spoke. “It’s Mr. Bellini this time.”

My ears perked up. “Gio?” We hadn’t heard a damn word from him in months, and hope filled my chest that he was on the way back. I was more than ready to hand over the crown and let him reclaim his position as the head of the family.

“Enzo, sir,” she clarified. “He says it's urgent.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet it is,” I mumbled under my breath. Probably tired of playing babysitter and looking for a way to convince me to man up and come home.