His chest ached with the need to have his wife back.
Shaking it off—shaking it off because he had to—he straightened his shoulders and went downstairs to where Tony was waiting with the car. His longtime driver said hello, gave him a quick look, and eliminated his usual witty banter.
Riccardo slid into the backseat and pressed his head against the leather. He’d felt justified in coercing Lilly into the deal because it had been the only weapon he’d had against her refusal to see him. Because he loved her. He was so used to having to fight tooth and nail to get what he wanted from Antonio he’d carried that same demeanor into his personal life. Strategize and conquer. But with all of his and Lilly’s trust issues he should have known better. He should have at least come clean when he’d had the chance to in Barbados.
Muddled thinking from a man who had seen the destructive effects of secrets harbored.
He clasped his hands together in his lap and looked down at the gleaming gold wedding band Lilly had placed on his finger. He’d been forgiven once. Would he be forgiven again? Or had he made one mistake too many?
The urge to put his fist through the bulletproof window overwhelmingly strong, he switched his attention to the traffic on Fifth Avenue instead, curling his fist on his lap. Lilly had called in to her clinic to say she wouldn’t be in. After she hadn’t picked up her cell he’d called Alex, to see if she was with her. Which had, in turn, opened him up to her sister’s sarcastic demand to know what he’d done now.
He ran a hand over his chin, his uneven shaving job making him frown. Where in Dio’s name was she? And why wouldn’t she at least pick up the phone and let him know she was okay?
Paige handed him a stack of messages when he walked in. He crumpled them up and threw them on his desk.
“Everyone’s here,” she murmured, moving her gaze from the wad of paper back to him. “You okay?”
Did he look okay? He gave her a curt nod, dropped his briefcase by his desk and took his laptop out.
His father gave him a nod as he walked into the boardroom. “Siete pronti?”
“Pronto.” Ready.
Gabe took the chair beside him. “You look like hell, fratello. Too much champagne last night?”
“I can’t find Lilly.”
His brother blinked. “Scusi?”
He powered up his laptop. “We had a fight last night and she needed some space.”
“You have no idea where she went?”
“None.” His jammed his palm against the table. She was pregnant. Driving his far too powerful car. And emotional.
Antonio opened the meeting and ran through the agenda. Riccardo looked down at the notes for his speech. There were only five words on the cue card. Vision. Courage. Expertise. Timing. Domination. They would define De Campo’s future.
His father began his pitch to endorse his son as CEO. Riccardo checked his messages on his phone. Nothing.
“As you have seen over the past three years, my son Riccardo has transformed De Campo into the multifaceted global brand that it is today...”
Antonio’s voice droned on, blurred into nothingness. It was only when his father turned to him and put his hands together, and the board followed suit, that he realized it was time.
“I am throwing my full support behind Riccardo De Campo for the position of CEO of this company.”
The board members stood and clapped.
It was happening.
This time as he made his way to the podium and shook Antonio’s hand there was no mistaking the pride gleaming in his father’s eyes. He felt strong and weak at the same time—as if he was both that boy who’d trailed after his father into the vineyard asking a million questions and the man he’d become.
He cleared his throat and stepped to the microphone.
“For the last three years I have watched the De Campo Group grow from a fledgling global brand to a force to be reckoned with in the industry. We gambled. Our vision was big. Our vision was ambitious. But our vision was right.” He paused and cast his gaze around the room. “And now we sit poised on a precipice. We can either move with the future or we can lose our way, as so many other brands have done. I say we move—that we have the guts and the vision to—”
Paige stepped into the back of the room. It was highly unusual for her to interrupt a meeting of this importance, and the look on her face stopped him cold.
Lilly. He knew it as instinctively as he knew the sun rose in the east.
“Excuse me.” He stepped down from the podium and walked toward the back of the room. Antonio frowned and stood up as he passed. The buzzing in his ears got louder the closer he got to Paige. Her eyes were glued to his face and she stood wringing her hands together—something his PA never did.
Antonio announced they would take a quick break.
“I have Lilly on the line,” Paige whispered to him. “Riccardo, she doesn’t sound good.”
He sprinted to Paige’s desk and picked up the line. “Lilly?”
“Riccardo?”
“Yes,” he barked. Her voice was faint. Not right. “Lilly, where are you?”
“I—I’m not feeling well. Ric, I—”
“Lilly?”
The line went dead. He slammed the receiver down and stood staring at it.
Paige’s hand flew to her mouth. “She said her phone was dying.”
He was already halfway into his office. “Call the security company and have her phone traced. Now. I need to know where she is.”
Antonio and Gabe joined him in his office.
“What the hell are you doing?” his father demanded. “They’re waiting to hear from you.”
“There’s something wrong with Lilly,” he said grimly. “I’ve got to find her.”
Antonio gave him an incredulous look. “Surely it can wait fifteen minutes?”
“No, it can’t!” Riccardo roared. “Gabe, I need your keys.”
His brother dug them out of his pocket. “I’ll come with you.”
“You should stay here and hold down the fort.”
“I’m not sure you should—”
He ripped the keys out of his brother’s hand. “I’ll call when I know something.”
Mid-morning traffic was still thick. He crawled forward, trying not to think about how weak and scared Lilly had sounded. Why had he let her go last night?
Paige called. Lilly had last been tracked in Westchester. She was at the house. He changed lanes and headed for the interstate, relieved, and then his heart started to pound as all sorts of disturbing images crammed his head. What if something was wrong with her pregnancy? The house was on the water. What if she’d taken one of the boats out and started to feel ill? Or gotten weak while swimming?
What if she was lying somewhere helpless?
He put his foot down on the accelerator and gunned the Maserati, weaving in and out of traffic as if he was in the Monaco Grand Prix. When he hit the interstate he put the pedal to the floor. The powerful car ate up the miles, but it wasn’t fast enough. Not for the torturous images running through his head.
The guy in front of him was driving like his grandmother in the left lane. He jammed his foot on the accelerator and sent the car to twice the legal speed limit, passing him on the inside.
The sirens started ten minutes out of Westchester. Red flashing lights blazed in his rearview mirror. For a split second he contemplated ignoring them. He could outdrive them in this car, he knew. But the whir of a helicopter overhead convinced him the cop on the ground wasn’t the only one after him.
He slowed down and pulled onto the side of the road. The cop pulled in behind him and got out of his car. He’d just explain what was going on and then he’d be on his way...
A tall, beefy cop stopped by his window. “License and registration.”
Riccardo handed it to him. “Officer—I—”
“Do you have any idea how fast you were going, sir?”
“About a hundred. But, Officer, I—”
The cop jabbed a finger at him. “You, sir, are a dangerous driver. You aren’t walking away with this car today. I can tell you that.”
“Look, I—”
The officer looked at his license and started to laugh. “You’re kidding me? Riccardo De Campo the racecar driver?”
“Former racecar driver,” Riccardo corrected. “I can explain why I was driving so fast. My—”
“Save it. You’re not the first superstar to think you can flaunt the rules.”
“Officer!” Riccardo yelled. “My wife is sick. She’s pregnant. I was racing to get to her.”
The cop blinked. “Where?”
“Our Westchester house. It’s ten minutes from here.”
“Did you call an ambulance?”
He closed his eyes. “No.” Why hadn’t he?
The cop gave him a considering look. “You better be telling the truth.”