Page 7 of Unrelenting (Ruthless Temptations #1)

SIX

Lorenzo

It takes every ounce of strength I possess to walk away and leave Lucia alone and naked in bed. I’ve never been the type to snuggle, but having her in my arms as she slept last night was one of the greatest experiences of my life.

There’s something about being with Lucia that feels right to me. She’s making me act in ways I normally wouldn’t. For her, I’m willing to smooth out my rough edges.

When I get down to the street, I find Benito waiting for me by the curbside.

I told him to meet me here, but thanks to that unexpected interlude with Lucia, I’m ten minutes late.

He doesn’t bitch about it as I get into the passenger seat of his BMW.

My cousin on my mother’s side of the family, Benito dresses like a banker in three-piece pinstripe suits and polished leather shoes, but his job description would technically be enforcer.

The man loves to beat the shit out of people. If they get blood on his suit, he hits them twice as hard.

“Where to?” he asks as he drives away from the apartment building.

“Head out to the vineyard.”

I have business out there today, and I can grab a shower and fresh clothes in the house I bought along with the winery. It sits in the perfect spot on the hill, close to the new visitor complex I had built, but separated by a high wall.

The view of the valley from the back of the house is incredible. I can imagine bringing my family out here someday.

A smile touches my lips as I picture Lucia running about after a couple of toddlers, trying to keep them out of my hair while I work.

I’ll welcome the interruptions, though. Despite what people might think of me, I’m a family man at heart.

Putting that dream aside for a more appropriate time, I turn to Benito. “Any movement on the Ricci property?”

Alberto Ricci owns the land next to the vineyard. There are several large barns on it that I can use for storage. He also owns a large villa that could easily be remodeled to provide accommodation for staff or maybe as a bed and breakfast.

“The old man won’t budge,” Benito says. “He insists it’s not a question of money.”

“Which means there’s something else he wants.”

“That’d be my guess.” Benito blasts the horn at a cyclist who weaves into our path. “You could just wait for him to croak and try dealing with the son. He hasn’t been around for years now. He won’t be interested in the place.”

“He could live another twenty years. I need the property sooner.”

Benito nods. “You want me to take you there now?”

I shake my head. “No, I need to shower first.”

“Why? He doesn’t care if you smell of pussy.”

Anger flares inside me. “Watch what you’re saying.”

Benito throws his head back and laughs. “So it’s true. You’re serious about this woman?”

I narrow my eyes. “What have you heard?”

“Nothing much. The principessa said you were in love.”

“When did you speak to Olivia?”

“I had breakfast with Damiano. He wants me to train a couple of new recruits.”

“What did you tell him?”

Benito checks his mirror and merges into traffic. “What does anyone tell Damiano? Yes, of course.”

“So I guess you won’t be around as much.”

“Just for a few weeks until they’re broken in. It’s not as if you’ll miss me now you’re in love.”

“I’m not in love.” The denial sounds hollow even to my own ears.

I don’t know if I love Lucia exactly, but I have stronger feelings for her than I’ve had for any woman before.

“If you say so,” Benito says, unconvinced.

We don’t speak again as he drives along the motorway before taking the exit onto the quieter country roads that will take us to the vineyard.

When we reach the house, he parks and I jump out of the car.

“Tell you what,” I say, leaning back into the car as Benito unfastens his safety belt. “Why don’t you go bring Ricci here? I’ll see him in my office in thirty minutes.”

“You’re going to take another crack at him?”

“It can’t hurt to see if he wants something other than money.”

If there’s some way I can move this process along and close the sale, I want to explore it. After my failure to buy Gianetta’s from Lucia, I don’t want to lose out again.

As Benito drives off to pick up Ricci, I know he’ll deliver the old man to me whether he wants to meet me or not. There’s no refusing Benito when he makes a request.

I head into the house and go upstairs to the master bedroom. The place was barely habitable when I bought it, but thanks to my decorator, it’s now the perfect rural sanctuary.

She used a neutral palette throughout the house, adding in splashes of color here and there.

I can’t wait to take Lucia out here. She’ll be awed by the coffee shop and restaurant space and will undoubtedly take a keen interest in the production facilities.

Knowing I don’t have long before Benito returns with Mr. Ricci, I shower quickly. I towel dry my hair and run my fingers through it and then put on brown tailored shorts and a white polo shirt. I slip my feet into white canvas shoes.

It’s not my usual attire, but the mercury is off the scale already, and the day is only going to get hotter. I can’t run around the vineyard in jeans and a leather jacket.

By the time I get downstairs, Benito is already pulling up outside with Mr. Ricci in the passenger seat of his car. I grin. He’s like a Canadian Mountie. He always gets his man.

“Mr. Ricci.” I hold my hand out to greet him as I meet him in the hallway.

“Volante.” He reluctantly shakes my hand, releasing it quickly as if he fears being tainted somehow.

“Please come into my office. Can I get you a drink?”

“Espresso.”

I look over his shoulder to Benito, who escorted Ricci into the house. “Bring us two espressos.”

Benito scowls at me but heads for the kitchen anyway.

“Please, signore , take a seat.” I gesture toward the chair on the opposite side of the desk to where I usually sit.

“Cut the bullshit, boy. What do you want?”

I admire his courage in speaking to me as if I were some wayward teenager.

There aren’t many men like Alberto Ricci around. In his nineties now, he possesses an old school sense of honor. He’s not someone who yields easily. I could strong-arm him to get what I want, but I won’t.

Sure, he’d buckle eventually, but to exert enough pressure to win over a man of such integrity, I’d have to trade too big a piece of my soul.

Damiano thinks I’m going soft since I abandoned my plans to persuade Lucia to sell her restaurant and I refuse to bully Mr. Ricci, but this is my business. It’s not part of the holdings we control as a family.

When I believe a person is worthy of respect, I’ll give it to them, even if it means not having everything my way.

“Have you considered my revised offer?” I ask. It’s almost double the amount I began negotiations with three weeks ago.

“It’s generous,” Ricci concedes. “It would certainly set my granddaughter up for life.”

“Granddaughter?” I had no idea he had family beyond his feckless son. Someone should have flagged that up to me when I had Ricci’s background investigated. I smooth over my expression to hide how much that’s thrown me off guard. “You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Why would I? We’re not friends.”

He has a point. “No, but I’ve never heard anyone else mention her either.”

Ricci grunts. “That’s because nobody knows she exists. My worthless son got her mother pregnant and walked out. He’s never seen his daughter, but I have. She’s a sweet girl, and I want her taken care of.”

“But the money isn’t enough to do that?” I guess.

“I’m old-fashioned, Signore Volante. I don’t want her to have all that money and no protection.”

“Perhaps I could arrange protection for her.”

“Bah! I don’t want some bodyguard trailing after her. I want her to be married, preferably before I die.”

Shock rattles through my bones. “I can’t marry your granddaughter.”

Ricci barks out an unflattering laugh.

“As if I’d accept a faithless playboy like you for my Violetta.” He sobers and rubs his chin. “But you must know men. Good men.”

I shrug. “I know men like me.”

“Like you, but not you, I can live with.” Ricci reaches into his jacket and pulls out a photo. He thrusts it toward me. “This is my Violetta. Find her a suitable husband, and then we’ll talk about the land.”

He rises and heads for the door. The man has insulted me and demanded I play matchmaker, a role I’m patently unsuited to. Normally I’d punch him in the face, but I’m just too stunned to react.

“Don’t you need a ride home?”

Ricci waves his hand dismissively. “I’ll walk. Your damned lackey drives too fast.”

He marches off more briskly than I’d think possible for a man of his age, just as Benito comes into the room with two cups of espresso.

“Lackey?” he protests, having caught the tail end of the conversation. He takes the seat Ricci just vacated and passes a cup of coffee across the table, keeping the other for himself.

“Bit fucking late with the espresso, aren’t you?”

“What can I say? I drive fast, but it takes time to make a decent coffee.” He sips his and makes a loud ah sound to prove his point. “So what did the old man say?”

“He wants me to find a husband for his granddaughter.”

Benito’s eyebrows shoot up. “He has a granddaughter?”

“Yeah, this is her.” I slide the photo across the table to my cousin, who picks it up and laughs. I’m not sure why, because the girl is stunning.

“That’s Violetta Caruso,” he says. “She works at La Stanza Rosso.”

That’s Damiano’s nightclub in Florence. I get to my feet, snatch the photo from Benito’s hand and sink back onto my chair, staring at the raven-haired beauty in the picture.

“Fuck, you’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her.”

“Well, she’s obviously younger there and she hasn’t got any make-up on but it’s obviously her,” Benito says. “Perhaps Damiano can convince her to help you get the land from her grandfather.”

“I don’t know. The old man seemed set on getting her married off as soon as possible.”

Benito grimaces. “I doubt Damiano would go that far to help you.”

That’s where Benito is wrong. My oldest brother would do anything to help me or Gabriele if we asked him to.

But I won’t ever ask him to do this. Just like he hasn’t tried to push me into marrying the principessa from some rival family to form a new alliance, I would never try to push him into a union he didn’t want.

It’s one thing we’ve always agreed on. Our loyalty is absolute, but none of us will ever put another in the position of having to sacrifice his happiness for the good of the organization.

In this case, however, he might suggest marrying her himself. He’s always had a thing for Violetta, but for some reason he’s never acted on it.

“I’ll talk to him, see if he has any ideas.”

My phone buzzes. I take it out of my pocket and see Damiano’s name on the screen.

“Speak of the devil,” I say, motioning for Benito to give me some privacy. As he leaves, closing the door behind him, I answer the call. “Fratello.”

“Will you be at the vineyard all day?”

I don’t bother asking him how he knows I’m here because we have tracing software on each other’s phones and in our cars.

“That’s the plan.”

“Good. I’m bringing Olivia out for lunch. Matteo’s bringing his woman.”

“What woman?” He’s not exactly been sociable for the last few weeks. I can’t imagine how he managed to meet a woman. “It’s not Rosalia, is it?”

The housekeeper who looks after the villa for Gabriele is just about to turn eighteen. She’s a sweet kid and way too innocent for Matteo. H

er sister, another Lucia, takes care of Gabriele’s house in Rome, and she’ll be pissed if Rosalia gets romantically involved with a Volante.

“No, her name’s Giulia. She arrived from New York the night before last.”

“So how is this the first I’m hearing about her?”

“Because I didn’t think to tell you,” Damiano says in an infuriatingly off-hand manner. “I dropped her at the villa. Antonio sent her to coax Matteo back to New York. She seemed like a nice girl.”

“So what, they’re dating?” If they are, Matteo’s kept quiet about it.

“No, they’re friends but…hell, I don’t know.” Damiano gets frustrated. I can picture him tugging at his hair. “Ask him at lunch.”

“Oh, I will.” As I end the call, I smile. I can’t wait to grill Matteo about this Giulia woman. Today is going to be a lot more interesting than I thought it would be.