The Vows He Must Keep (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Avelar Family Scandals, Book 1)

by Amanda Cinelli

  It all seemed so hollow now, as he looked back at the way he had lived. He had gone from one extreme to the next, proving himself in daring sailing challenges, throwing the wildest parties and seducing the most beautiful women. Life had just been one big adventure after another, with nothing ever big enough to satiate his appetite for more. Until everything had suddenly become tasteless and the thought of sailing or seducing had seemed just a waste of energy better spent on his investigations.

  His old life seemed like a distant memory—like the life of a stranger. But if he was no longer that version of himself...he had no idea who he was...

  When he arrived at the party, his first priority was to ensure that Velamar’s private marina was securely locked down. The elite security team he had hired six months ago had been expertly trained by the best in the business and they knew exactly where they needed to be. He stepped onto the main entertaining deck of the massive yacht to see that some of the guests had already arrived. A small swing band had set up on a small platform, and the intrusive bouncing melody of the music provided a perfect background for a night that would likely be filled with uncomfortable conversations and questions about his time away.

  For the first time in months he wished he could down a few drinks as he was approached by several acquaintances all at once. But he’d long ago learned that drinking only made him feel worse. He needed to be in control of his senses, of his mind.

  The party filled out quickly, and soon enough the entire room was watching him, the curiosity in their gazes mixed with the familiar sympathy he’d come to expect in the days immediately after his rescue. Hushed conversations began, ensuring that anyone who was not aware of the events that had put the scars on Valerio Marchesi’s face and the growling darkness in his eyes was soon informed.

  He had never lacked confidence about his looks—he knew that even despite the minor scarring and his leg injury he was still attractive enough. Some women would probably find it thrilling, seeing such a dramatic reminder of his fight for survival. They would build it into the fantasy of him as a rugged adventurer, like in the stories the media had loved to spread. But having so many eyes on him was a stark reminder of everything he would never outrun.

  He would always be the scarred hero to them—someone both to pity and admire. None of them knew the truth of what had happened. None of them had lived through it.

  But now was not the time to show weakness—not when he had important work to do. Being born a Marchesi meant he had been introduced to instant fame and pressure even before he could walk. He had chosen a different path from the family business, but he still used the lessons he had learned from his father every day. When you feel weak, walk tall and look them in the eye. So he met each set of curious eyes without hesitation, ignoring any mention of his absence and filling each conversation with talk of the latest yacht they planned to launch.

  ‘Ah, here comes Daniela.’ One of the members of the Velamar board craned her neck to look past him. ‘Good grief—is that Tristan Falco on her arm?’

  Every set of eyes in the small group around him snapped towards the steps at the opposite end of the long entertaining deck.

  She wouldn’t... Surely she would have the sense not to...

  After seeing a series of nervous furtive glances towards him, Valerio gritted his jaw and turned to see for himself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TIME SEEMED TO come to a standstill as his eyes sought Dani across the crowd. She was shaking hands with one of the politicians he’d invited, the wide smile on her ruby-red lips a world away from the indignant anger he’d last seen on her face.

  He was powerless to look away, and the tightness inside his chest loosened as he watched her tilt her head back and laugh. She didn’t even have to try to be the perfect hostess—it just came naturally.

  As he looked on, the crowd tightened and gathered around her, vying for her attention. And even if he hadn’t already been treading a fine line with his control, seeing Tristan Falco by her side had him fighting the insane urge to growl.

  There wasn’t a single person on this yacht who didn’t know of his long-standing rivalry with the heir to the Falco diamond fortune. He shook his head, biting his lower lip to stop himself from laughing at such a deliberate power-play. Clever, infuriating woman. For some reason she was trying to provoke him...

  As though she’d heard him, the object of his thoughts met his gaze across the sea of guests. Almost in slow motion, she raised her champagne glass in a toast, an unmistakable smirk on her full lips.

  Schooling his own expression to one of mild interest, he raised his own in response and began to move slowly across the deck towards her. He could see her eyes shifting towards him at regular intervals as he got closer, her hand moving first to push an errant curl behind her ear, then to touch the delicate necklace at her throat.

  He noticed that she had trapped her ebony curls high on her head, only letting a few hang free. It was impossible not to see how the style accentuated the long, bare expanse of her neck and shoulders, but likely that had been her aim. She was a confident woman—surely she knew how her appearance captivated the crowd around her.

  He didn’t know much about fashion, but he knew that she had chosen perfectly in the emerald-green concoction encasing her curves. He felt his throat turn dry as the shimmering material moved, revealing a modest slit up to the smooth skin of one thigh. Reflexively, he forced his gaze back to her face. She seemed to sparkle in the light as she moved away from the small crowd around her, taking a few steps in his direction to close the final gap between them.

  ‘My compliments on your stellar work today, Mr CEO,’ she said tightly, her charming smile still firmly in place as she waved politely at a couple of guests who passed them.

  ‘I assumed you wouldn’t mind my input on this event’s inadequate guest list, seeing as you were so eager to have me back.’ He fought the urge to smirk as her eyes sparked fire at him.

  She took a delicate sip of her champagne, giving him an icy glare over the rim. ‘If you had given me your input before making your sweeping changes, you might have found out that there was a strategic, brand-specific reason for my tiny guest list.’

  ‘If you’d answered any of my calls today, maybe I could have done that.’

  ‘Well, maybe I was too busy recovering from your ridiculous...proposal.’ She lowered her voice to a hiss, her eyes darting around as she uttered the last word as though it were some kind of demonic chant.

  Valerio couldn’t help it then—he chuckled under his breath. There was absolutely nothing funny about any part of their situation, but some long-buried part of him was really enjoying this verbal sparring.

  It had always been like this between them—from the first time they’d met as teenagers, when she’d come to watch Duarte in a sailing competition at their all-boys boarding school. Even when she’d joined Velamar he’d used to start fights with her at events just to draw out this...fire. At one point he’d started to wonder if she was avoiding him, and that had only made him try harder to provoke her—before Duarte had mistaken his playful jabs at her as interest and moved the entire PR and marketing division to their London offices. He’d said it wasn’t because of that, but Valerio had known better.

  The terse silence between them was broken by the arrival of a wide-smiling Tristan Falco at Dani’s elbow. ‘Marchesi, you seem to have forgotten my invitation tonight. Luckily your partner was in need of a fine male escort.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that you were in town.’ Valerio extended his hand to the other man, not missing the way Dani’s eyes widened with surprise. ‘I’ve never had the chance to thank you since the last time we spoke.’

  A serious look came across the other man’s features. ‘It was nothing. I hope you took my advice.’

  Valerio exhaled on a sigh, reflexively crossing his arms over his chest as he nodded brusquely. ‘I did
.’

  ‘Am I missing something here?’

  Dani’s voice was hard as stone between them. Her hand was on her hip, her eyes narrowed as she looked from one man to the other. Tristan was the first to speak, sliding his arm over her shoulders and pulling her in close.

  ‘It’s a private matter between us guys.’ He smiled in his trademark way. ‘I met up with Marchesi a couple months back while I was in Rio.’

  ‘Rio?’ Dani fired that amber gaze Valerio’s way briefly, then turned back and fluttered her lashes up at Tristan. ‘How lovely. What did you guys get up to in lovely Rio?’

  Valerio tensed, hoping Falco would have the good sense to stop talking. Despite his invaluable help, the man was still a thorn in his side. Even looking at him now, with his big meaty arm slung over Dani’s shoulders, it made him want to throw a punch in his pretty-boy face and launch him bodily off the yacht.

  After a long, painful silence it seemed Dani had realised that neither of them planned to elaborate further on the matter. But she didn’t fire off another smart retort. Instead Valerio watched as a brief glimmer of hurt flashed in her eyes. Her lips thinned for a moment and she made a big display of looking around the party. Then she smiled—a glorious movement of red-painted lips and perfect teeth that seemed to hit him squarely in the chest.

  ‘Excuse me, gentlemen... Some of us have work to do tonight.’

  Valerio was powerless to do anything but watch as she retreated in the direction of the bar, stopping here and there to greet her guests cheerfully, as though nothing had happened at all. He cleared his throat, turning back to see Falco pointedly raising one eyebrow.

  ‘Why do I feel like I’m interrupting something?’ the other man drawled.

  ‘Just a professional disagreement.’ Valerio cleared his throat and took a long sip from his glass. ‘None of your concern. Also, she’s off-limits to you.’

  ‘Professional?’ Tristan Falco laughed. ‘Right...and that’s why you looked like you wanted to throw me overboard when you saw her with me.’

  ‘There’s still time if you don’t stop talking,’ Valerio said, gritting his teeth.

  Falco raised both hands in mock surrender, leaning back against the wall to survey the crowd in his usual calculated way.

  Valerio tried to ignore the pang of guilt in his gut. He hadn’t wanted Dani to find out that he’d been back to Brazil at all. And he certainly hadn’t wanted her to find out like that.

  She didn’t know anything of the past six months of his life because he’d been trying to protect her from the worry that would come with the knowledge that he was still actively pursuing the men who had taken him and Duarte in Rio. That he had been knee-deep in a dangerous criminal underworld of corrupt politics and blackmail as he tried to piece together the events that had led to his best friend’s death.

  It had been pure chance that Tristan Falco had been in Rio at the same time. He’d saved Valerio from being arrested, drunk and ranting, after another lead had turned out to be useless.

  The other man had cleaned him up and offered him some solid advice. No more booze. Hire professionals to do the digging. He’d also put Valerio in contact with a discreet and highly qualified clinician to help with the psychological aspects of his recovery. And he’d shared some of his contacts to help Valerio dig into the backgrounds of some of the men he suspected of involvement. The diamond heir had become an unlikely ally in his fight for justice.

  Valerio took the first opportunity to move away in search of his unhappy business partner. He had made his peace with Falco, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly able to tolerate his company for longer than necessary.

  He moved through the crowd, hating how uneasy and wooden he felt when he stopped to converse with his guests. His smile felt too tight, his shoulders heavy. The old Valerio would have been in his element here, not counting down the minutes until it would be acceptable for him to slip away.

  This conflict with Daniela had got under his skin. Clearly she was annoyed by his actions today—which, honestly, he’d expected. He hadn’t planned to triple her guest list, but it added to his mission to draw attention to his social standing and good connections. An unstable CEO would hardly host a party for all of Monaco’s elite, would he? Plus, he’d been frustrated at her reaction to his proposal. He felt an urgency to his plans now and he needed her to stop fighting him.

  The trouble was, he didn’t want to reveal the full truth of her situation and scare her away. He had planned to find a balance tonight, to give her just enough incentive to co-operate and accept his proposal. She was no fainting little miss, that was for sure—especially considering she had quite literally kidnapped him to ensure she got him to Monte Carlo.

  But his plans for tonight had not involved having her completely furious with him. He needed her by his side. It was the only way he could keep her safe.

  Discomfort had him running a finger along the rim of his collar, fighting the urge to rip off his tie and open a few buttons. He had chosen the open decks of the yacht deliberately, knowing that confined spaces were one of his triggers. But it seemed that even having the entire night sky above him was not enough to stop the familiar tingle of hyper-awareness from creeping up his spine. Every loud bark of laughter and clink of glassware brought a shot of tension painful enough to have him gritting his teeth.

  A movement on the opposite side of the sea terrace caught his eye. One of Daniela’s security men, conferring with the rest of the team with a worried look on his face. Valerio moved forward, the tension mounting in his gut like a furnace.

  One brief exchange of words with the men was enough to confirm his worst fear.

  She was missing.

  Dani had moved away from the crowd initially just needing a moment to herself. That moment had turned into a quarter of an hour as she’d wandered through the yacht in search of privacy. Finally she’d emerged onto an open sea-view terrace at the stern, breathing a sigh of relief to find it empty but cursing herself for not grabbing another glass of champagne or some canapés. She hadn’t eaten a lot after her brunch with Hermione, and already she could feel the buzz of alcohol in her head. She’d always been a lightweight.

  From their current position, she could see the lights of Monte Carlo twinkling like fiery diamonds above the water. She could see the glow of the iconic Monaco Naval Museum and the Grimaldi Forum in the distance. Such beauty would usually bring her a sense of calm, but nothing seemed able to rid her of the restless feeling that had plagued her all day.

  Her late entrance to the party had been calculated to ensure the maximum effect of the majestic, glittering emerald gown Hermione had provided. Its designer was a new hot name on the Paris runway, his trademark exclusive material a blissfully comfortable stretch velvet that had actual diamond fragments threaded throughout.

  The piece was heaven for the more curvaceous women of the world, like her. It moulded to her body like a second skin and flared out slightly just below her knees in a delicate flounce. And the pièce de résistance to complement her perfect ensemble was the man she’d had on her arm.

  What on earth had she been thinking, bringing Tristan Falco? Everyone else on the yacht had watched that ridiculous display of thoroughly masculine camaraderie between him and Valerio with a mixture of appreciation and curiosity. She had heard whispers—one person wondering if this finally meant a partnership of the two brands was in the works...another dreamily wishing that she could be in the middle of the two hunks.

  Dani didn’t know what bothered her more: all those women drooling over the two men or the fact that most of the guests would attribute any future partnership between Falco Diamonds and Velamar to Valerio’s presumed genius.

  Dani had been approached by Tristan numerous times in the past few months about a possible collaboration between their two brands. It was no secret that Valerio had firmly declined his numerous offers in the past
, even though it made perfect business sense for the two to join forces, considering the strong history already present between Falco Diamonds and the other members of the wealthy Marchesi family.

  The soft clearing of a throat brought her back to the moment. She turned, expecting to see that Valerio had followed her, but instead she was met with the sight of a thin man with a shock of salt-and-pepper hair that seemed vaguely familiar. There was a kind of meanness in the smile he gave her, and a shrewdness in the way he scanned the empty deck area with a seeming lack of interest.

  ‘Boa noite, Senhorita Avelar.’

  His voice was reedy, as though he smoked twenty cigarettes a day. A few steps closer and the odour that drifted off his expensive suit confirmed her theory. She held her breath as the man leaned forward to place the customary kiss on her right cheek.

  ‘Angelus Fiero—I’m an old friend of your father’s and a silent member of the board.’ He smiled, extending a flute of champagne towards her. ‘I hope you don’t mind me following you?’

  She accepted the glass, pasting a polite smile on her face and ignoring the shiver of unease in her spine. He took a seat directly across from her on a low cushioned bench that bordered the delicate curved rail of the deck.

  ‘You seem to be taking your job as CEO very seriously. I have heard of your divine talent. Ruling with an iron fist and a perfect smile. Turning things from rotten wood into finely polished oak,’ he said cryptically, with a strange glimmer in his eyes. ‘Tell me...is it a new company protocol to bypass a direct order from the executor of someone’s will?’

  Dani paused, the champagne flute inches from her lips.

  ‘I’d bet Marchesi has no idea that you were the one to apply for Duarte’s death certificate, has he?’

  Dani initially fought the urge to shout that Valerio was not her keeper. But then her logical brain processed the man’s words and she didn’t speak, her mind utterly frozen in confusion. Who was this man, with his all too knowing eyes and his knowledge of top-secret information?