Page 87 of The Devil's Fire

I shot him a mischievous smirk and a flirty wink before turning on my heel.

The banquet hall was set up to be as extravagant as possible, with towering centerpieces and glittering chandeliers. The room was bustling with the sounds of chatter and laughter as the swarm of people, dressed in their finest clothing, mingled with one another.

I was taken aback by how many people were there, and I ended up playing a game with myself by guessing which ones were involved in a criminal organization, and which ones were… normal.

Antonio and Luca disappeared off somewhere to give us some privacy while we fell into a chat with too many people. Damiano was incredibly well-known, and the second we stepped foot inside, people practically rushed to have a word with him.

His presence attracted a crowd of people, all eager to share their business ideas and hoping for a partnership. He pulled me close and wrapped his arm around my waist, and I smiled politely while they talked.

“Is it always like this? Them trying to kiss your ass.” I asked after we had excused ourselves from two men who wouldn’t stop talking.

“Something like that.”

“How boring.”

“You’ve barely been here for an hour, and you’re already bored?” He chuckled.

“I was hoping it would be more of a 'just sit and look pretty' kind of thing.” I winced slightly and tried to lessen the pressure on my injured foot.

“Let’s get you off your feet, then.” Damiano was about to lead me away when another man called for him.

“Mr. Bellavia!” The man was with a woman linked to his arm as they approached us, and my shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“We don’t have to talk to him.” Damiano said, keeping a firm grip around my waist to help me a bit off my feet.

“No, it’s okay. I can manage.” I smiled at him.

“Mr. Roberts.” Damiano greeted, and they shook hands.

“And who’s the beautiful lady?” Mr. Roberts stuck his hand out to greet me.

“Althaia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I placed my hand in his, and he kissed the backside of my hand. I could feel Damiano’s hand tightening around my waist, and I mentally rolled my eyes at him. I still leaned closer to him to ease him.

“Pleasure’s all mine. This is my wife, Elena.” He introduced, and we exchanged smiles. She was a beautiful woman with red hair, and her long silver dress was adorned with lots of jewelry.

Mr. Roberts wasted no time and went straight to business talk.

And he aimed his question right at me.

“Enlighten me, Miss Althaia. It appears that Mr. Bellavia’s wine prices rise by the minute, making it one of the most expensive on the market. What distinguishes Mr. Bellavia’s wine from the rest of the competitors at much lower prices?”

Well, shit.

He looked at me with scrutinizing eyes, waiting for my answer.

“Mr. Roberts, have you seen Mr. Bellavia’s vineyards in Italy?”

Please say no.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t been that lucky.” He chuckled.

Bingo.

“They are without a doubt the greatest in Italy. You see, nearly all vineyards nowadays have abandoned traditional winemaking practices in favor of employing more technology than man. This, of course, reduces production time, but, if I may be honest with you and come with an opinion of my own, it also reduces wine quality.” I said, but Mr. Roberts didn’t look too convinced, so I continued.

“Not to mention that Mr. Bellavia is improving the economy by creating additional jobs in the community. It is not always about statistics, Mr. Roberts, it is also about a set of moral values that are beneficial to both people and society.” I finished with a smile.

The silence that followed was nerve-wracking. I wasn’t even aware that Damiano had a wine business, and I hoped what I said was at least somewhat true. I knew for sure Damiano was a hardworking man and took pride in his businesses.

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