Page 12 of Savage Prince

“No arguing,Papà. I’ll go with you to this meeting and wait in the car. I owe you a gelato.”

He smirks, the playful smile lighting up his dark irises. “I can never say no to you,cuore mio.”

CHAPTER 7

A PUTTANA

Serena

“I thought you said you would wait in the car,”Papàgrowls as I hop out of the Alfa Romeo.

“I lied.” I throw him a smirk and curl my arm around his before tipping my head back to admire the enormous villa. The gleaming white façade is practically glowing beneath the pale streetlights of the luxuriousBreradistrict. “Besides, there’s no way I’m missing out on seeing this gorgeous home up close and personal.”

“Serena…”

“I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut. I won’t say a word.”

“But—”

“But what? You said this was an associate of yours, right? So it’s not like I’m going to be in danger.” More than the normal amount that comes along with my last name. Here in Milano, I’ve enjoyed the anonymity of it all, but I have to admit, it’s also gotten kind of boring. The Valentino name may come withsome risks, but there are also countless perks. I’ve missed out on enjoying the luxurious aspects of the life.

“He’s a new associate,”Papàgrits out, returning my wandering thoughts to the conversation. “And you know I don’t trust anyone.”

“So don’t tell him I’m your daughter. Just say I’m aputtanayou picked up off the streets.”

“Serena!” His eyes grow impossibly wide. “I would never do such a thing to your mother. I could never even pretend. Andcazzo, you’re my daughter… Just the idea of it—” His lips screw in disgust, and a tremor races across his broad shoulders.

Okay, maybe I’d gone too far with that idea, but anything is better than being babysat in the car by Aldo for the next hour. “I’ll say whatever you want, okay?”

“Say nothing.”

I slam my jaw closed, the crack of my teeth vibrating across the still air. As he leads me up the stone walkway, through the perfectly manicured gardens complete with intricate topiaries and marble fountains with chubby cherubs, I can’t help a smile from curling my lips. Everyone always said my mom was the only person who could wrapPapàaround her finger. She was. Until I came along.

“So who is this guy anyway?” I whisper before we reach the guards stationed at the front steps of the sprawling villa. Four beefy men in all black remind me of smaller, less intense versions of Bella’s bodyguard.

“His name is Enrico Sartori. He’s a big player in Rome and a key partner for the Kings in our growing Italian ventures. His son, Federico, is being primed to take over the Sartori syndicate, and he felt it was imperative I meet him in person since I’m in town.”

“Interesting… I wonder if he’s good looking.”

“Serena…” he snarls my name like a curse.

“I’m kidding, relax, Pa.” Only partially. I’ve never gone for the good boys—dark, broody, fucked up, now that’s my type.

“I’m not here to arrange your damned wedding.”

Now I’m the one cringing. “Hell, no. I would kill you if you ever tried such a thing.”

A dark chuckle bursts from my father’s lips. “Oh, I know.”

We reach the front door, and one of the guards dips his head and motions us through the grand foyer. “Welcome,SignorValentino andsignorina.” An icy chill races up my spine as we cross the threshold. My heels click on the silver-veined marble, my head tilted back to take in the vibrant frescoes painted across the ceiling. It’s like walking through the Sistine Chapel at St. Peter’s Basilica.

The hulking guard leads us into a large study with dark mahogany paneling. A thick silence descends over the room as we walk in. A massive desk sits in the center with an imposing male perched in a high-backed leather chair, the smooth caramel coloring reminding me of a well-aged scotch.

“Signor Valentino…” The man’s dark eyes chase to mine. With wavy, salt and pepper hair and a strong Roman nose, he must have been attractive when he was young. I stiffen my spine and offer a tight smile. I’ve grown up surrounded by powerful men my entire life, and very few have ever made me tremble in fear. Sartori is no exception. “I expected you to come alone.”

“Yes, well, you caught me a bit off guard, and I was at dinner.”Papàshifts his gaze in my direction but never introduces me, neither as his daughter nor his whore as I’d suggested.

Another man walks in a moment later with a guard at his side.Papàvisibly stiffens and I instinctively clutch my purse tighter at my side. If I need to pull Dolce out, I’m ready.

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