Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Lucien snorts.
“Emma is not accounted for in the will,” Mr. Brady says, clearly uncomfortable. “Your father was very clear in his instruction regarding your younger sister.” He pauses politely. “That concludes this meeting, but my office will set up a time to go over everything with you in greater detail and handle the transfer of shares on your twenty-first birthday which is coming up, young lady,” he says with a smile. Vittoria attempts to smile but falls short. He glances back at Lucien, who is staring out the window as he whisper-shouts into his phone. “You should know that your father was very proud of you, Vittoria,” he says to her and pats her hand.
Vittoria’s eyes water, and I think about how she felt about him. How she loved him. But I clear my throat. Time to get on with the business of things.
“Excellent,” I say just to get on with things. “Thank you, Mr. Brady. And now that that’s done and given that I am in control of Vittoria’s finances, which thus includes her shares of the company, I’d like to request an audit to be conducted immediately. I’d like to know exactly what my wife and I are getting into.”
Brady looks at me. He doesn’t trust me. I get it. I wouldn’t trust me either. “That’s premature, don’t you—”
“You what?” Lucien starts, turning back to us, the look in his eyes that of pure hate as they move over me and settle on his sister.
I smile and stand, buttoning my jacket as I pull Vittoria’s chair out. “My attorney has all the paperwork. I’m sure it’s in order. If you’ll excuse us, it’s been a long day. My wife and I are tired. Vittoria.”
Vittoria tucks the letter into her bag, looks up at me, then back at her brother. She stands. “I’d like a private moment with my brother,” she says.
The lawyers nod and start to pack up, Brady saying something about coffee.
Setting a hand on her shoulder, I squeeze, then lean down so my mouth is at her ear. “What are you doing?”
She looks up at me. “You and Bastian have your agenda, and I’ve given you everything you asked for. This is mine,” she says and stands, her eyes over my shoulder on her brother.
I set my hand on her waist as everyone begins to file out. “I don’t want you alone with him.”
She drags her gaze to me, and I have her full attention. “He won’t hurt me. He’s too much a coward to touch me,” she says so only I hear.
“Vittoria.”
She brushes something off my shoulder. “Besides, you and Bastian are right outside the glass wall. You can see everything.”
“Mr. Caballero?” Brady says from the door.
I glance at him, then at my wife. “I don’t like this.”
“You don’t have to.”
10
VITTORIA
The door clicks closed. Lucien’s eyes move to it, but mine remain locked on him. In my hand, I clutch my bag containing the letter my father wrote me and wait for him to look at me.
“Which one are you fucking?”
“Both.”
He’s clearly not expecting honesty but recovers himself quickly and snorts. “Guess it stuck.”
I am momentarily confused but get to the point. “Did you do what they said?”
His eyes are shifty. “What did they say, dear sister?”
I look up at him, at my half brother whom I don’t know. I certainly don’t like or trust him. But could he have done what they’ve accused him of? Is he that much of a monster?
“Their sister,” I say more quietly, not sure I want to know the answer.
His eyebrows rise. “What did they say I did to her?”
“She was fourteen. You were an adult. They said you raped her.”
He shakes his head and looks away momentarily. “She was young, I get that now, but I didn’t rape her. We were in love.”
I’m shocked at his answer. Struck silent for a long moment. “She was fourteen,” I finally say. “You were what? Nineteen? Twenty?” Does he really believe they were in love?
He pushes a hand through his hair, his face growing red.
“Do you really believe that you were in love?” I ask.
He ignores my question and asks another. “You signed away control of your fucking finances? Are you that stupid?”
“I had no choice. Not when you left me in Italy to fend for myself. Did you even try to send anyone after me?”
His right eye twitches. It’s an infinitesimal movement, but I’ve learned to watch my brother closely over the years, and I know what this means. He’s angry because he feels himself losing control. He got that look with dad often when it came to finances or the business.
“You shouldn’t have gone. I told you that.”
“Our father’s last wish was that he be buried in Italian soil where his roots are. It was his dream to go back home one day, you know that.”