Page 80 of Heartless Vows

“I know you have enough shares in all your father’s companies to overtake him without force. I know he’s clueless you’re the one buying all his collateral and assets because you use different subsidiaries and smaller businesses to cover your tracks. I know you’ve suspected it was an inside job for a while but couldn’t pinpoint who it was.”

Fiero stands and shakes his head as he drops into the nearest chair. Giorgio presses his fingertips against my scalp, demanding my attention.

“You found all that in one night?”

“It’s not like you’re trying that hard to hide what you’re doing, so it was easy to find. And I wasn’t doubting you; I was profiling you. I scanned for abnormalities along the way, just like I did for Nico Russo and your father.”

A muscle ticks in Giorgio’s jaw.

“Why do you suspect my uncle?”

“He’s skimming off your father, but he’s not sending the money to the typical offshore accounts. He’s paying someone and has been for a while, but they’ve been smart and keep changing modes of contact and location and… everything. I just need a little more time, and I’ll have what you need to prove to your father it’s your uncle,” I say.

“You’re hoping for a peaceful takeover, aren’t you,mia topolina?”

I nod. He scowls and tightens his grip on my head.

“It no longer matters if my father knew or not. Neither man is fit to be the head of my family anymore. They’ve both earned the humiliation and pain I’ve prepared for them.”

“He’s your father, though. He’s Serenity’s father. He—”

“Sat by and did nothing while she was kidnapped. He hasn’t lifted a goddamn finger since—”

Both Giorgio’s and Fiero’s phones buzz in their pockets. It must be a vibration pattern set for emergencies, because they stiffen and look at each other.

At Giorgio’s nod, Fiero stands and heads out the door as he pulls his phone from his pocket.

“What is it?” I ask.

Disappointment flattens my willpower as Giorgio lifts me off his lap and settles me in the middle of the mountains of pillows.

“This isn’t something you should be a part of,mia topolina. I’ll leave my computer password on the desk and my car in the garage, but I should be back before it’s time to pick up Tristan. Stay here and rest.Capisci?”

I nod and fight a sense of abandonment as he stands. His eyes soften and he leans down for a quick, reassuring kiss before disappearing.

I wait until the front door closes and the security system engages before rolling onto my side and pushing half the pillowsonto the floor. The steam swirling up from the mugs on the bedside table catches my attention. As I rise onto my elbow, the smell of apples and cinnamon warms my heart.

Giorgio remembers the smallest details.

Maybe he already suspects I’m not as healthy as I pretend to be.

Fear tightens my gut even as cotton fills my head.

He wants a child. Why else would he have pushed his seed inside me this morning? Even if he proclaims to want me more than his money or power, he’s shown many times that he yearns for a baby of his own, and he’s never once balked at our parents’ demand for an heir. Will he still love me when he finds out I can’t give him what he wants most?

Too wrung out to handle more worry, I prop myself up on the headboard and sip the apple cider.

When I feel more like death warmed over instead of a frozen corpse, I set down the mug and swing my feet toward the floor. A mini pep talk to myself and a few steadying breaths later, I slowly stand and shuffle to the bathroom. After cleaning the dried blood off my arms and scrubbing underneath my nails, I head to Giorgio’s study.

I may as well have been hit by a semitruck with how stiff and sore I am. Every muscle in my body aches, every joint creaks, and every tendon strains from overuse.

Panic attacks suck.

I use the password Giorgio left, grateful for his trust, and focus on what’s most important: proving Narciso Vivaldi stabbed Matteo Vivaldi in the back and put the entire family in danger.

A little more than an hour later, my phone chimes from the bedroom. I push myself to my feet and wobble up the stairs to fish it out of my purse.

Mr. Hearthright’s voice fills the line the second I answer.

---