by Dana Delamar
What about the gardens at the Villa Carlotta, or maybe that elegant little bistro in Bellagio? Both were nice, but he wanted something more grand.
Then the perfect place came to him: the beautifully laid-out formal gardens of the Villa d’Este. Just the place for a marriage proposal, maybe even the wedding itself. And after he proposed, they could have dinner at the hotel. He called the maître d’ and arranged dinner for the next evening. Any further delay and the wait would kill him.
Fuente called on Enrico and Kate the following day. The three of them met in Enrico’s study. Kate and Enrico took the sofa; Fuente took a chair opposite. The expression on Fuente’s face flashed Enrico back to their meeting just after Kate shot Vincenzo. Fuente had looked then like a cat who’d just swallowed a very tasty canary. He looked even more full of himself today. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
“Are you here to update us on the investigation into Vincenzo Andretti’s death or on the attack a few days ago?” Enrico said.
“We do have so many things to discuss, do we not?” Fuente paused for a moment, until he was sure of everyone’s attention. “Signore, an interesting story has come my way.”
“Interesting?”
“Molto. It seems your name has come up in yet another investigation. Another death.”
“What are you talking about?” Kate asked. Enrico was wondering the same thing.
Fuente stroked his moustache. “Ah, signora, there is much you do not know about this man. I understand you are to be wed?”
“Where did you hear that?” Enrico asked.
Fuente shrugged. “You know how these small towns are. So hard to keep secrets.”
“What’s this story you mentioned?” Kate asked.
Fuente leaned forward, his face lighting up with a cold keenness. “A judge and his family were assassinated some years ago. This judge, Federico Dinelli, was well known for his anti-Mafia views. At the time of his death, a case had come before him. A tax-evasion case. Signor Lucchesi was the defendant.” Kate turned to Enrico.
Where was Fuente going with this? And why? “Yes, there was a case,” Enrico said. “It was dismissed for lack of evidence.”
“But only after Judge Dinelli was killed.”
Blood rose to Enrico’s face. “That was not my doing.”
“No one has been able to prove that it was.”
“I had nothing to do with it.”
“But you had everything to gain from it.”
Enrico looked hard at Fuente. Didn’t they have an understanding? “Mine was not the only case before him. Carlo Andretti was facing charges as well.”
Fuente stroked his moustache again, looking at the ceiling, as if considering Enrico’s words. “That is true.” He played with the cap on his lap. “As you may recall, signore, some of the evidence in that case was lost. I was curious and did some digging. It took me days and days of searching, but I finally found that missing evidence. It had been misfiled, almost lost for good. Do you know what I found?”
Enrico could hardly breathe. “Please, enlighten me.”
“One of the murder weapons—as it happens, the only one with fingerprints on it—was among the misfiled evidence. And the fingerprints on that gun belong to Sergio Grantini. He worked for you back then, yes?”
Adrenaline flooded Enrico’s body. Someone had just put the first nail in his coffin. Someone who knew where that gun had been hidden. Was it Dom? He focused on keeping his expression neutral. “He did work for me.”
“But Grantini disappeared soon after the murder.”
Enrico nodded. “He abandoned his wife and son.”
“Why would he do such a thing?”
“How am I to know? Sergio was young and not always faithful to his wife. Perhaps he ran off with a pretty girl.” It could have been the truth. Only Enrico, Ruggero, and Dom knew that it wasn’t.
“Perhaps.” Fuente paused, his eyes boring into Enrico. “If we could find him, he could tell us why he shot the judge and his family.”
“You do not actually know that he did. Someone else could have used the gun.”
“Grantini’s prints are the only ones on it.”
Enrico shook his head. “Gloves. The killer could have worn them.”
“Perhaps, Signor Lucchesi, you should have been one of us.”
“A carabiniere?” Enrico snorted.
Fuente waved the notion away with his hands. “What was I thinking? No man as fine as Enrico Lucchesi would stoop so low.”
“That is not what I meant.”
Fuente’s lips curved up. “Perhaps you meant no man as corrupt as you would think of it?”
There was no winning with this man. Enrico could feel the heat of Kate’s stare. “If you have enough evidence to arrest me, I suggest you do so.”
“Or what? You’ll take care of me too?” Fuente grinned at him aggressively. “Perhaps I’ll end up like the judge? Or perhaps I’ll be ‘misfiled’ in some nondescript place like that gun?”
Enrico sat back, feigning indifference. “You have nothing.”
Fuente leaned forward. “Ah, but I do.” He pulled their passports out of the inner pocket of his uniform and tossed them on the table. “I assume you both would like these back.”
“We would,” Enrico said.
“You are fortunate, signore. I am in a generous mood.”
“Are we cleared?” Kate asked.
Fuente looked at her, a tight smile on his face. “Patience, signora. Such matters take time.”
They don’t have to. He had to get Fuente out of the house so he could talk to Kate. So he could explain. “Is there some… assistance you need with the investigation?” Enrico asked.
“Not directly. But there is a matter that has proven most distracting to me personally, and it has hampered my ability to wrap up the investigation.”
“Is it something I can help with?”
Fuente put on an embarrassed face. “I would not mention it, except it is the matter most pressing on my mind.”
“What is it?”
“As you know, I have four children, and they all plan to attend university. But now three of them have decided they must go to America for that. Even with my recent promotion to third rank, I will be hard-pressed to fund their tuitions. I have heard, Signor Lucchesi, that you have sponsored some local children.”
The audacity of this man. “If they have high marks.”
“My children are exceptional scholars.”
Enrico suppressed a sigh. “Well then, perhaps they would qualify for my scholarship program.”
“I would be most grateful for any assistance you could provide.”
Kate looked from one to the other of them, her disgust undisguised. “Are we done here?” she asked.
Fuente smiled again. “For now. Signora, my business with you is concluded.” He turned and addressed Enrico. “I am still looking for Grantini. We will talk further when I find him.”
“I hope you do. I am still paying his wages to his wife while we look for him ourselves.”
Fuente bowed his head. “You are a most generous man, Signor Lucchesi.” He rose and put on his hat. “Arrivederci.”
As Enrico escorted Fuente to the front door, Kate sat on the sofa, stunned by what she’d just witnessed. How easily Enrico bought whatever he wanted—the outcome of a murder investigation, for example.
What a fool she was. How could she have accepted his proposal so quickly? He was a mobster, for God’s sake. He’d admitted to her that he’d killed people. Killing a judge to stay out of jail? Obviously that wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. He’d told her he didn’t kill innocent people, but that was yet another lie. The discussion with Fuente had clearly rattled him.
How could she trust Enrico, now that she knew what he was capable of?
By the time he returned to the study, she could hardly contain herself. “How could you do such a thing?”
Enrico sat down beside her. “I did not do it, I swea
r. Carlo has framed me.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient. It’s all Carlo’s fault. Again.”
“It is not convenient at all. He nearly landed me in prison, and I suppose he still will, if he does not kill me first.”
“A judge and his family. How could you?”
“I did not, and I would not. Let me explain.”
She held up her hand, palm facing him. “Stop. I don’t want to hear it. It’s just going to be more lies.”
“Please calm down.” He reached for her hands.
She slapped his fingers away. “I will not calm down. I will not let you sweet-talk me again. This is it. You heard the man. I’m free to go.”
“Per favore, I can explain.”
“No. I’m packing my things and leaving this country tomorrow. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
His voice deepened. “Carlo still wants you dead. And you are in no condition to fly. Even if you do not care about yourself, you have a child to think of.”
She looked away from him, breathing hard, the stabbing pain from the wound in her chest confirming what he said. She had her passport, but she couldn’t leave yet. “I can’t stay under this roof. I can’t bear to look at you.”
“You must see a doctor before you get on a plane. You don’t want to endanger yourself or the baby.”
She threw up her hands. “Your precious, longed-for heir. That’s the whole reason you’re marrying me. Your cousin pretty much said so.”
“I told you I loved you before I knew you were pregnant. Do you not remember?”
She did remember. The baby wasn’t the real reason for the doubt that crept around her heart. After a few moments, she said, “You still can’t tell me you love me more than Antonella.”
His eyes shifted from hers. “Does that matter so much?” Then he looked at her. “I have risked my life for you.” His voice grew hoarse. “What more proof of my love do you need?”
Her throat ached, and she willed herself not to cry. Not to show him how much he was getting to her. “You can show me you love me by letting me go instead of keeping me here against my will.”
“I would never force you to stay here. I only want you to be careful.”
“I can stay in a hotel until I’m better.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hotels are hard to secure.”
Cold washed over her from head to toe, as if she’d plunged into an icy pond. Enrico had lied to her for a long time. And not without a damn good reason: if he let her go, his life was forfeit. If he’d killed innocent people to avoid jail, what was he capable of when his life was on the line?
Enrico was still looking at her, as if he was waiting to say something. “What?” she asked.
“Do you hate me?”
“There are lines I can’t cross. This is one of them.”
“I will prove to you that I am innocent.”
Enrico was about as innocent as a circus carny. She had to get away from him. “I need time, Enrico. Time to think. I got carried away when I accepted your proposal. Both of us had nearly died, we were both heavily medicated…. It was not the right time to be making such a decision.”
He looked pained, but he nodded. “Must you leave? Can you not think about it here, where I can keep you safe?”
“I need to be away from you.”
“I hate this.”
I hate it too. Anger sank its teeth into her. “I hate everything about this situation!” she shouted. Clenching her fists, she lowered her voice. “I’ve told you what I want, what I need. And you’re damn well going to give it to me if you ever want to see me again.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “I apologize. I did not mean to push.”
She softened her tone. “I don’t know you well enough to marry you. I’m not sure what kind of man you are. I need time to think.” She hated lying to him, but he’d let her leave more easily if he had hope.
“Whatever you need. I will always give you that.”
Her throat constricted. He did love her. But how much? And was it enough? Did he love her more than his own life?
She was going to have to use his love against him. A cold hard stone formed in the center of her chest, and Kate hated herself, just a little. What she wanted, what Enrico wanted, none of that mattered, as long as the baby was safe.
“I’m counting on it, Enrico. You don’t know how much.”
Hope flared in his eyes, and she hated herself just a little bit more.
Carlo listened to Fuente’s report, a smile on his face for once. Things were proceeding as planned. He’d been worried when Domenico told him of the upcoming marriage. “The American was upset?”
“Most certainly. I do not think Don Lucchesi can talk his way out of this.”
“You have done well, Silvio.”
“And my children? They will benefit from your generosity?”
“Most certainly.” Carlo ended the call, almost laughing at Fuente. The man was so predictable. Money was all he cared about. Carlo had plenty of that to go around.
Now all he had to do was wait for the woman to leave Lucchesi. And for Domenico to locate Rinaldo.
CHAPTER 27
Enrico insisted on putting Kate up at the Villa d’Este, despite her protestations about the cost. The choice was a bit ironic given his plan to propose to her there. His hand closed around the ring box in his pocket, his fingers sliding over its velvety surface. Would he ever get to put that ring on her finger?
Despite the ruined plans for his proposal, the Villa d’Este was the best choice for keeping Kate safe. It was close by, and because the hotel was a favorite of the jet set, it had better security than many others on the lake.
Kate and Antonio would check in under false names, as husband and wife. Enrico had booked them a suite with an adjoining door. The two guards he was sending with them, Paolo and Tommaso, were in the rooms on either side. Their job was to alternate guarding the suite. Enrico had threatened them with their family’s lives if anything happened to Kate. But he was much more blunt with Antonio.
Antonio was surprised by the summons to his capo’s study, and even more surprised by what his boss was telling him. And how he was telling him. “I love her. More than I know how to handle. If anything happens to her, it will destroy me.”
Don Lucchesi pulled a small black ring box out of his trouser pocket. “I had planned to give her this tonight. Now… God knows if I ever will.” The wounded look on his capo’s face was more than Antonio could bear. He studied the carpet, rather than look at that face.
Cristo. Antonio had never loved a woman like that. He was pretty sure he’d never been in love at all. Not if it was like this. He didn’t know what to say.
“You must keep her safe, Tonio. I’m trusting you with the one who is most precious to me.” Don Lucchesi paused. “With both of them. Look after her as if she were yours. Make sure she eats, that she takes the vitamins for the baby. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“I will. I swear it.” He meant it, but he’d say almost anything to get away from the intensity of that gaze, that pain. “I will guard her with my life.”
“I’m counting on that. If something happens….” He didn’t finish the thought.
Antonio wanted to comfort his boss, but he couldn’t embrace him the way he would a father, not anymore. The days when Don Lucchesi would accept a hug from him were long in the past. They hadn’t touched since Antonio was a boy at the Lucchesi Home for Children.
Something twisted in his gut. He wished he could do more for this tortured man in front of him, this man who meant so much to him, this man who had saved him from a life of ruin. But all he could do was take care of the signora.
Perhaps he could persuade her to forgive his capo. Don Lucchesi was the best of men; any woman who had his love would be lucky, and his child would be loved beyond measure. An ache spread throughout his chest. Don Lucchesi might never get to show that love to anyone. To his child, most of all. Anton
io knew what it meant to lose everyone you loved.
“I will not fail you, mio capo. I swear it.”
Don Lucchesi nodded and seemed like he was about to dismiss him, but Antonio couldn’t go without knowing something. “Scusa, but what if you cannot convince the signora to stay? What will you do then?”
His capo met his gaze, his dark eyes flat. “I’ll do what I must.”
Alarm flashed through Antonio’s body. Was he talking about silencing her? Then Don Lucchesi said, “I’ll persuade her. If I can’t….” He was silent for a moment, then he said, “I will keep her safe, and someday she will be mine again.” He looked down at the carpet. “I must believe that.”
“Will you silence her?”
Again, his eyes were flat. “How can I?” His voice when he continued was strangled. “I love her.”
“But the vows—”
“I know my duty.” His tone said there would be no further discussion.
Antonio didn’t feel any closer to knowing his don’s heart than he had a few moments ago.
Worse, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear.
All he knew was that he must convince the signora to accept Don Lucchesi.
Antonio took his charge very seriously, hovering over the signora at the hotel to the point where he risked irritating her. He swore to himself he’d make her see reason. At the least, he could remind her what her future would look like if Don Andretti got hold of her. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he would if he had to. The stakes were too high to play nice.
In the meantime, he enjoyed playing her husband. Perhaps a little too much. Even with her current pallor, she was still a vision with that long auburn hair, those flashing green eyes, and that smooth, creamy skin he longed to touch. He took advantage of his role in public, touching her lightly at the small of her back, taking her arm in his, putting an arm around her chair when they sat down, playing with the dark red hair that hung down within reach of his fingers. She was intoxicating.
