Page 27

CHAPTER 27

M assimo

I’m sitting in a small office Theo let me use.

A glass of whiskey is to my right and a cigar is smoldering in the ashtray next to it.

The computer screen finally lights up and a woman’s smiling face appears. Jillian Morris. She’s my attorney for private matters, when I don’t want to use someone associated with my family. She’s not the best, but she’s effective, and thanks to some trouble I saved her from a while back, she owes me her life. That means she won’t discuss anything with anyone, and that goes well beyond lawyer-client privilege.

“Mr. Morandi, it’s good to see you,” she says, clicking her pen. “I’ve made all the arrangements you asked for, and I’ll send the documents. They just need your signature. I’ll get them notarized, like we discussed, without you having to be present.”

“Tear them up,” I snap. “All the financial documents. We’re starting over.”

“Uh, you’re serious?” she asks, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Yes,” I snarl. “I’m about to email you something. This is what you need to do. Follow my instructions exactly how I outlined them.”

One thing my family is good at is laundering money. It doesn’t matter how much cash you have in a warehouse or vault if you can’t spend it. We do our laundering within the confines of the law, but bend it as needed. A business has a great year—no big deal, if there are receipts to back it up. Forging them is easy, and if you spread them out across enough businesses, it won’t get the attention of the feds.

I lean back, sip my whiskey, and enjoy a few flavorful puffs of the Toscano I got from Theo. Jillian reviews the email, and I see her tilt her head as she takes it all in. It’s not a difficult thing for her to do, but there are several steps to make sure everything is run through the shell companies that will ensure nobody knows where my fortune went.

“One beneficiary?” Jillian questions. “The trust is for Eleanor Fuller—from Pine Grove?”

“That is correct,” I confirm. “It’ll take a couple of months for the money to go through all the right channels, but once it does, I want you to send her the paperwork. Make sure I didn’t miss anything, but it should be untraceable.”

“Nobody could trace this,” Jillian replies. “I won’t even be able to trace it once it leaves the offshore accounts.”

“Perfect.” I nod and exhale sharply. “And like we agreed, there’s enough money to set you up for the rest of your life and send all three of your kids to college.”

“Thank you, Mr. Morandi,” she sighs. “You don’t know what this means. Ever since I got disbarred… I…”

“I know, but you’ve got your law license back now, just like I promised,” I say. “If you choose to keep practicing, you can. If not, you’ve got enough to start over somewhere else.”

We say our goodbyes and I end the call.

Lea outright refused my money, but I don’t like taking no for an answer. I’ve already hurt her. I gave in, despite knowing how wrong it was, and my death will leave a wound. Money won’t mend her broken heart, but she’ll be taken care of. I’ll rest easier in whatever grave they stick me in knowing that.

I doubt my family would ever try to trace my money, but this will ensure the trail never leads them to Lea. I set it up so that it looks like an inheritance meant for her grandmother that she never knew about. Lea’s smart enough to figure it out, but it won’t matter if she does. I’ll be gone by then.

I take a few minutes to enjoy my whiskey and cigar before I make my next call. I planned to spread this out while I was here, but I’ve been preoccupied. The arrangements still have to be made. I’ve accumulated a few debts over the years and most of them aren’t financial. I’m settling them all before I take my last breath.

Call after call. Arrangement after arrangement. The sum of my life, simmered down to favors, debts, and things I barely give a fuck about. It would be easier if I didn’t know it was coming. If the hitman hadn’t decided to see if he could cut a better deal with the victim than the one who paid for the hit.

But it’s better this way. I’ll leave the world with a clean slate. I didn’t even get to scream my way into the world with one of those. I’m Salvatore Morandi’s firstborn son. Expectations were laid out before I drew my first breath, and I’m going to die before I take my place at the head of the table, like my birth destined me to do.

“Fuck you, Emilio,” I sigh, downing what is left of my whiskey and stubbing out my cigar. “I hope it’s worth it.”

With business concluded, my thoughts return to Lea. She’s waiting for me in my penthouse suite. I could claim her again—spend the entire night with her tight pussy begging for more. But I’m doing irreparable harm. Deep down, I knew what would happen, if I made her mine, even for one night. It’s harder to let go when you’ve got something to hold onto. I should have never let her grasp onto me.

But what’s done is done.

I don’t want to be alone tonight.

After signing the paperwork and faxing it to Jillian, I meet Theo for dinner, drinks, stories, and cigars. It’s not something I want to do, but keeping up appearances is important. Especially now. Lea has become a part of those appearances. To anyone who is watching, I’m having the time of my life. The sad part is that it’s true, except I’ve got one foot in the grave while I try to let go of the girl who has brought me back to life.

When I get to the elevator, I’m drunk enough to feel it. Drunk enough to have a slight stagger to my step. I swipe my keycard, drop it, and mutter obscenities as I retrieve it from the floor. Then I stumble off the elevator, open my door, and peer into the darkness.

“Lea?” I call out, feeling a twinge of concern. “Are you here?”

My concern leads me to Lea’s bedroom first. Her bed is empty, but her bags are still there. I turn back to the main part of the suite and turn on the lights. The breakfast I sent up is mostly untouched, but it looks like she had a plate.

“Lea?” I call out again, walking down the hall and pushing my bedroom door open. She’s in my bed, but the lights are out, and the covers are pulled tight around her. “There you are. Are you sleeping?”

“No,” she whispers.

“Did you hear me calling for you?” I walk closer to the bed.

“I knew you’d find me eventually,” she mumbles, pulling the covers tighter.

She’s broken and that’s my fault. I take off my suit jacket, toss it on the chair, and remove my tie before pulling the covers back. She didn’t even get dressed today, but while the sight of her naked body is enough to make my cock twitch, I’m more worried about her.

“I’m sorry, Lea,” I sigh, getting into bed and pulling her into my arms.

“Stop apologizing, please,” she mutters. “It doesn’t matter how sorry you are if you won’t do anything to change it.”

“I know,” I relent, unable to offer much else.

We lay in the darkness, the silence saying everything. She’s silently pleading for me to do something to stop what is going to happen. I’m silently explaining why I can’t, while she silently berates me for being such a damn fool—I don’t think she would actually berate me, but she should. I deserve every bit of her anger and frustration.

I’m the one who allowed this to go too far. I’m the one who gave in. She’s a victim of all of this. Her only crime was meeting a man and daring to let the island guide her toward one misadventure after another. Despite what I said last night, none of this is her fault. I’ll shoulder that blame all the way to the end.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’ve still got your entire life ahead of you, bambina ,” I whisper, trying to comfort her the best that I can. “You’re going to leave this island, and it’s going to hurt for a while, but one day… one day, it’ll pass. I’ll be a memory you look back on, and I hope one of those times, you’re looking back on it from a happy place. Hopefully surrounded by children and a loving husb?—”

“Don’t.” She cuts me off. “Like you said, I don’t want to hear it, so please don’t say it. Don’t romanticize the rest of my life because it makes you feel better. What makes you think it’ll be that easy for me, hmm? It wasn’t easy for you.”

“That’s different, Lea,” I sigh.

“How?” she questions with a sniffle. “Love is love, Massimo. The years might make it stronger. A baby certainly does. But once the spark is lit, it’s lit. Except this time, you don’t have to suffer after it’s over. I get to do that alone. Or maybe I won’t be alone.” She grabs my hand and moves it to her stomach. “Maybe you left me something to remember you by.”

“Lea!” I say, pulling my hand away. “You’re not pregnant.”

“How do you know?” she asks, sniffling again. “We didn’t do anything to prevent it, did we? And I still feel you inside me.”

“Yeah, but…” My words trail off and I sit up. “Aren’t you on birth control?”

“Why would I be on birth control?” She turns to face me, and I see the tears glistening in her gorgeous green eyes. “I wasn’t running around trying to lose my v-card every chance I got.”

“You didn’t say anything, so I… I assumed,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Damn it, I should have worn a condom.”

“I really don’t care, Massimo,” she sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “If I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant. At least my life will finally have some direction, if that’s the case.”

I want to tell her she’ll be taken care of, regardless. That if our spark created life, she’ll be able to give our child a life she never dreamed of. But I can’t do that. It’ll just upset her more than she already is, because I’m leaving something for her, after she told me not to.

“If you are… it doesn’t change anything,” I say, unable to hide the pain that the thought brings.

“I didn’t say it to change your mind,” she says. “I’ve been staring at the wall all day, trying to come up with something. Anything, really. I’ve given up on that. I know you won’t do anything to stop it, and I certainly can’t. So, just hold me. At least give me that.”

I swallow hard and nod as I lean against the pillow. Lea scoots into my arms and I wrap her in a tight embrace. Listening to her sniffles while her tears run down my chest is heartbreaking. I wasn’t sure if anyone would cry for me after I’m gone. Now I know there will be two eyes that don’t stay dry.

So I’ll hold her.

Because my arms, while there is still blood pumping through them, are all I have to offer.