Page 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I rubbed my eyes and yawned. I’d tried all day to muster some enthusiasm for what Marianna and Fee were planning. Currently, they were talking about seating charts—as if I cared who was sitting where.

Somehow, today, even thinking about that stupid wedding ceremony made me feel like just going back to bed, pulling the blanket over my head, and pretending it all wasn’t true.

Maybe it was because I’d woken up groggy and disoriented due to lack of proper sleep.

Throughout the night, I’d tossed and turned, reaching out for Vince only to find his side of the bed cold and empty. He hadn’t come to bed at all, and I hated how much that bothered me.

I leaned back and looked around. The kitchen buzzed with activity. Caterers discussed menu options with the cooks while the florist argued with Mira over centerpieces, and then there was Michele, who was always hovering near me if Birdie wasn’t .

Vince’s men’s presence everywhere, keeping an eye on everyone and everything, was a stark reminder of the threat hanging over our heads.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Fee chirped, far too chipper for my liking. “Are you still good, or do you need a break?”

I grunted in response, reached for the coffee pot, and poured myself another cup. I needed a break, or better yet, how about we forgot about this whole damn wedding?

Marianna handed me a clipboard. “Miss Jemma, the DJ sent over some song options for your first dance.”

I blinked, trying to process the information. Our first dance? “How is everything coming together so quickly; are you some kind of magician?”

Marianna beamed. “Oh, it’s my pleasure. I’m so happy for Mr. Salvini to have finally found the one. I’ve always had a knack for event planning, and Mrs. Moretti is such a great help. I’m having so much fun.”

I side-eyed Fee, who smiled at Marianna. Mrs. Moretti, not Falcone. I never asked Fee about how her and Alex’s life would change now that he’d accepted becoming the head of the Moretti family.

Would she even be able to see Sophie as much as she wanted? And would they permanently move to Italy?

“I told you to call me Fee, and I’m just following your lead,” Fee said, and her smile appeared genuine.

I couldn’t help but smile. At least they were having fun. “You’re both amazing. But, Marianna, you should definitely consider a career change.”

She shook her head. “No, no. I love my job. And Mr. Salvini is the best boss one can wish for. ”

Huh. Now, that was interesting. I realized yesterday that the staff really seemed to like him, which was somehow still surprising.

I sipped my coffee and caught sight of a few female staff members whispering and casting glances my way. Their expressions weren’t exactly welcoming, and I felt a pang of insecurity. As much as they all loved Vince, I’d caught more than one hostile glance in my direction. Was it me they were disapproving of, or were they speculating about this rushed wedding?

Fee noticed my discomfort and leaned in close. “Don’t mind them. They’re probably just jealous. You’re marrying the handsome boss, after all.”

I nodded. So I wasn’t the only one who caught the vibe? And I couldn’t shake the feeling of being an intruder. Was I just being oversensitive? Was the stress of what had happened yesterday, the wedding preparations, and the lingering threat of danger getting to me?

“So,” Fee said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Have you decided on a dress yet?”

I groaned—another decision to make. As I opened my mouth to respond, I caught myself wondering what Vince would like—I shut that train of thought down immediately.

As if that mattered. This wasn’t some kind of fairy tale wedding. This was a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less.

I suppressed the flash of annoyance. I wanted to talk to him yesterday, to tell him to stop acting so cold, and he didn’t even show up.

If he wanted to push me away, fine. I’d choose whatever dress I wanted .

But first, I needed a break from all this wedding madness. I got up. “Fee, Marianna, I’m going to step out for a bit. I need some fresh air.”

“Should I come with you?” Fee asked.

I shook my head. “It would be great if you helped Marianna decide on as much as possible. I don’t care about flowers, or music, or even what dress I’m wearing, so you decide for me.”

Wouldn’t that be easiest? If I just needed to show up for this farce of a wedding. Such irony. Weren’t those the exact thoughts I’d had that day when Vince and Matt Salvini came to visit to discuss my arranged marriage?

It had been a farce then, and it was still now.

And here I thought it all had changed.

Fee nodded understandingly, and I slipped away, grateful for the momentary escape. I wandered through the house without seeing a single soul. Where was Vince? And Vince’s guys? And Hawk? And all of Hawk’s guys? The size of this mansion was truly amazing and completely nuts.

I hadn’t even seen Isabella and Mirabella since yesterday. Though I desperately wanted a chance to talk to Iset—privately.

I searched room after room, finally spotting her through the window. She was lounging by the pool, buried beneath a big blanket and a puffer jacket twice her size, staring into her laptop.

I went down, then hesitated. Given she was buried beneath layers, it was chilly outside, so I grabbed one of the jackets hanging by the door to the deck .

As I shrugged it on, a deep voice startled me. “Trying to make a break for it?”

I turned to see Dom, Vince’s friend. “Oh, hey. No, just looking for Isabella.” I pointed through the glass door in the general direction of the pool.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving me.

Was he studying me? Trying to find out what?

“So, what do you hate most about Vince?” he suddenly asked.

I froze, my muscles tensed, before I caught myself and snorted. What a weird question. “That’s quite the icebreaker.”

Dom cocked his head, his gaze on me, but remained silent.

He was the kind of man who was too good-looking, and he knew it, too.

Not many men would look good next to Vince Salvini, but this guy managed to hold his own. Buff, well groomed, fucking gorgeous. His whole demeanor screamed star athlete like someone who enjoyed being the center of the party, not like someone who was really interested in discussing the deep topics.

But he remained silent, waiting for my answer, so maybe I was wrong. “There are too many annoying things to pick just one,” I said, then paused, considering. “But if I had to choose, it’s probably his obsession with solving everything alone.”

Dom’s eyes lit up. “Interesting. And what do you think Vince hates most about you?”

I laughed. “Funny you’re asking me that. Probably that I never do what he tells me to.”

“Fair enough.” Dom chuckled. “So, thoughts on the wedding? ”

I rolled my eyes. “I’d rather have a fork stuck in my left eye.”

“Why the left eye?”

“Because my right side is prettier,” I quipped, turned my head, and exaggeratingly fluttered my eyelashes.

Dom raised an eyebrow. “If you hate it so much, why go through with it; why not fight him?”

I sighed, my smile fading. “Because it’s what Vince needs.”

Dom nodded, a look of approval crossing his face. “I see.” Then he turned and walked away.

What a weird encounter. I’d expected him to be much more easygoing. He and Vince had laughed a lot back in NYC when I’d followed them and watched them. Apparently, Vince’s friend was just like him. Guarded and highly protective of him.

I made my way to Isabella, who was huddled under layers by the pool. As I approached, she looked up and smiled, patting the space next to her.

“Hey there, bride-to-be,” she teased as I sat down.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t remind me. This whole wedding thing is driving me bonkers.”

She nodded sympathetically. “I can imagine. But hey, at least we’re not dealing with any fallout from that identity auction, right?”

I paused, considering her words. “You know, now that you mention it, do you think we overreacted?”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I’ve been doing some digging, and for the life of me, I can’t find out who bought the list. This, in itself, makes me kind of worried. ”

“But your name isn’t on that list, right?” I’ve been wondering about that since she’d mentioned it. Somehow, in the way she talked about it, I got the feeling she was worried about my identity being disclosed but not her own.

She glanced at me sideways, the look in her eyes hesitant. “No, it’s not, at least not my real one.”

Relief washed over me, paired with a strange sense of sadness. I thought we were both in the same boat, which had been strangely comforting. I smiled at her. “That’s good news, I guess.” But then, her earlier words sunk in and quickly replaced my mixed feelings with a new worry. “Why does not finding the buyer make you worried?”

Isa’s expression turned serious. “Because it means they know what they’re doing. And that’s alarming in multiple ways.”

I nodded.

“On another note. I’ve managed to… Well, let’s just say, Iset’s gotten access to some interesting information.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What kind of information?”

She leaned in close, lowering her voice. “I hacked into my father’s computer a while ago and created a backdoor just in case. And as it turns out, I still have access.”

I grinned, both surprised and impressed. So, I wasn’t the only one who hacked into her father’s system. We were more similar than I thought we were. “Are you sure you and me aren’t related?”

She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Well, we’ll be sisters soon enough. But listen, what I found…” She suddenly looked around.

“Let’s move a little farther away from the house,” she said, got up, and gathered her blanket .

Isabella and I moved to a secluded, overgrown pergola near the edge of the property, away from prying eyes and ears. She opened her laptop, and I huddled close, both for warmth and to see the screen.

“Okay, so here’s how Iset got in,” she whispered, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “My father’s not exactly tech-savvy, so his password was laughable. A few well-placed keyloggers and some well-timed visits to his office, and voila! Though hiding from Bianchi, SGE’s head of cybersecurity, wasn’t that easy.”

I watched in awe as she navigated through folders and files. “You’re impressive. And terrifying.”

She smirked. “Thanks. Now, let’s see what we can find about these supposed hitmen.”

We scoured through emails and documents, looking for anything suspicious. Most of it was mundane business stuff, but then something caught my eye.

“Wait, go back,” I said, pointing at the screen. “That email there.”

Iset clicked on it, and we both leaned in closer. It was a cryptic message, mentioning a “cleaning service” and a substantial payment.

“That has to be it,” I whispered. “But who’s it from?”

Iset was about to dig deeper when a twig snapped behind us. We both whirled around, and my heart raced.

There, standing just a few feet away, was Ivan Zotov. His face was unreadable as he looked from us to the laptop screen and back.

“Ladies,” he said smoothly, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” Zotov’s eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking between us and the screen.

How long had he been standing there? And how much had he heard?

Iset blocked his view with her body, and I closed the lid of her laptop in slo-mo.

“Mr. Zotov,” she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “What a surprise to see you out here alone. Is this your yard time? And are you enjoying the scenery?” She scanned our surroundings. “Or is this your personal re-enactment of prison break?” She paused.

I looked around and realized, for the first time, that none of Vince’s men were around. I didn’t consciously ditch them. So how did that happen?

“To be honest, if I were in your shoes, I would make a run for it. My brother’s not known for his good manners, or giving second chances.”

My heart pounded as I watched Isabella and Zotov face off. The air crackled with tension, and I found myself holding my breath.

Zotov chuckled. “Indeed, he’s not. However, I find the company far too intriguing to just run. What brings you two lovely ladies out to such a secluded spot? Sharing secrets?”

I tried to keep my face neutral, but I could feel sweat beading on my forehead and a flush creeping up my neck.

Iset, however—because Isa was channeling her badass persona completely—didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, you know how it is,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “wedding talk can get a bit overwhelming. We needed a breather.”

Zotov took a step closer, his body language screaming suspicion. “ Is that so? And does wedding planning typically involve such intense focus on a computer screen?”

I tensed, ready to jump in with an excuse, but Iset beat me to it.

“We were looking at dress options,” she lied smoothly and handed me her laptop, which I pressed against my chest.

“The devil’s in the details,” she said. “And we can’t have the bride wearing just anything, can we?”

Zotov’s lips curled into a smirk as he dragged his gaze from the laptop in my hands back to Iset. “Of course not. Though, I must say, I’m surprised to see you so involved in the planning, Isabella.” He paused, and his jaw tensed for a nanosecond before he relaxed his face again. “I wasn’t aware you and your soon-to-be sister-in-law were so…close.”

The implication in his voice was clear. He didn’t believe a single word we were saying. But there was also something odd in the way he pronounced her name, and his tensing afterwards.

Isa’s eyes hardened, though her smile remained fixed in place. “Family is everything, Mr. Zotov. Surely you understand that?”

Before Zotov could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“What’s going on here?”

I turned.

Vince and two of his men were striding toward us, his face a mask of controlled anger.

Relief washed over me, quickly followed by a new wave of anxiety. What would he think of us being out here with Zotov?

He narrowed his eyes and looked from the laptop in my arms to me, then to Isabella, and finally on Zotov. “You should’ve made a run for it,” he growled, then nodded at his men, who both stepped up to Zotov.

Zotov gave Vince a lopsided grin and lifted his hands. “I rather enjoy your hospitality,” he said to Vince, then bowed in Isa’s and my direction before he marched, flanked by Vince’s men, toward the house.

Vince stared after them for a second before he turned back to me. “Whose laptop is that?” He narrowed his brows and stared at me.

“Mine,” Isabella said and took it from my hands.

“Never, ever give it to her,” he said to Isa while staring me down.

“Hey,” I said.

He growled. “Isa, back into the house. Now.”

Isa hesitated, side-eyed me, then shrugged. “He’s not known for being rational either,” she murmured, then fell into a half-jog toward the house.

“What the hell is your problem?” I finally said when Isa was out of earshot.

“My problem?” Vince snickered. “My problem is you within the radius of a mile of a laptop. That’s my problem.”

And then he stepped closer, bent over, and slung me across his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.