The Commanding Italian's Challenge

Her smile evaporated completely. ‘What?’

‘Your reluctance to engage with Carlotta gave her pause. In her will she’s given me the power either to make you a very rich woman today or...’ He sat back, let his silence speak.

Her lips firmed. ‘Or make me jump through hoops for something I had no idea about and didn’t want in the first place?’

Maceo delivered a derisive smile. ‘Indulge me, then. Get up and walk out. Prove you mean to refuse it.’

He was confident that she wouldn’t. No one in their right mind would walk away from such a—

Shock reverberated through him when she rose again. Her indigo eyes effortlessly pierced the layers of his calm until Maceo wasn’t sure whether he was breathing in or out. Whether he was going to jump up to stop her leaving or remain seated and watch her go.

The latter.

He most definitely wasn’t going to stop her.

She took one step, then another. Despite her tasteless clothes, her grace was unmistakable, and her hips swayed beneath her sweeping skirt with a raw sensuality that made Maceo shift in his seat. And stare.

She reached the door and grabbed the handle. Tension coiled tight within him. Realising his fingers were drumming on the table, he killed the action just as she turned to spear him with a reproving look that would have levelled a lesser man. A man who hadn’t committed the sins he had and emerged with the demons he fought every day.

‘I came here because I thought that after all this time Luigi had provided the answers I’ve been seeking all these years. I see now it was a waste of time.’

Maceo sent his lawyer a warning glance as the older man opened his mouth. Carlotta’s other request, over and above the financial bequest, had been specific—the delivery of a letter addressed to Faye Bishop. He didn’t know whether it would provide the answers she claimed to seek, but Maceo knew he would only deliver it when he was absolutely sure of her motives.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Fiorenti. But I hope I never see or hear from you ever again.’

She walked out, leaving astounded silence behind.

‘Did she...? Did that really just happen?’ one lawyer asked, stunned.

Maceo refused to acknowledge his own astonishment. She had to be playing a game. What she didn’t know was that he was an expert at games. He’d been playing them for the better part of a decade with the paparazzi, keeping them distracted so they didn’t dig and uncover his family’s secrets. The same games he had played with those board members who deemed him weak.

As if on cue, two of his opponents walked in. Stefano and Francesco Castella—Carlotta’s older brothers. Maceo’s life had taken a fateful turn the night his parents and his godfather had perished, but these two remained a constant reminder that, besides the secrets that had eventually shattered his family, lies and greed were a menace he also had to deal with.

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He neutralised his features into a mask of indifference even as his gaze flicked to the door. What had Faye Bishop meant? What had his godfather done to her?

And how did I not know Luigi had a stepdaughter?

Realising his thoughts were cartwheeling, Maceo pushed the subject of the ethereal Faye Bishop to the back of his mind.

‘I didn’t realise we were letting in strays off the street these days. Who was that curious woman?’ Stefano asked.

‘She’s none of your concern,’ Maceo answered, a little taken aback by the bite in his own voice.

Stefano smiled his oily smile. ‘Ah, but I’m a board member. That makes everything my concern.’

Maceo swallowed a growl. There was another reason he needed to deal with Faye Bishop. That fraction of a share was the only thing preventing him from having absolute power over the board. However measly, it might be the difference between ridding himself of Stefano and Francesco—who’d made Carlotta’s life a living hell until Maceo had stepped in—and enduring their unpalatable presence.

‘You’re here to discuss your sister’s personal affairs. That woman isn’t any part of that,’ he said.

Stefano shrugged. ‘I was simply being civil to pass the time—’

‘You don’t know the meaning of the word civil, so don’t insult me.’

Francesco’s gaze narrowed. ‘Watch your tone, figlio. We not only managed this company while you lay incapacitated in a hospital bed and Carlotta was uselessly wringing her hands, we allowed you to marry our sister—’

‘I was under the impression that decision was entirely ours,’ Maceo inserted calmly. ‘I’m sure that’s why we married without informing either of you.’