Page 75 of Royally Roma
“I apologize, sir. It’s just that when you gave me Miss Costa’s address last night, I felt I should investigate.”
Niccolo’s hands paused, his fresh shirt only halfway buttoned. “You or the army my grandfather sent here?”
“Just me, Your Royal Highness.” Piero inhaled a deep breath. “Although there are indeed two security officers outside.”
“Of course there are.” It was astounding how everything could change in the span of five minutes. “Are you telling me that a background check has been conducted on Miss Costa?”
“Not an official one.” Piero shook his head. “No.”
“Do not mince words with me. Was there or was there not a background check conducted on Miss Costa?”
He wasn’t sure why he found the idea so repugnant. If she’d come to Lazaretto to visit the palace, or even if she’d been invited to his quarters at the Hotel de Russie, she would have been subject to a thorough vetting. It was standard procedure for anyone in his world. Necessary for both his personal security and that of his country.
But she hadn’t come into his world. He’d come into hers.
“Sir, I assure you. It was nothing formal. The security office was in no way involved. They followed me here this morning, that’s all. They don’t even know why I’m here. I followed your instructions to the letter. I simply performed a basic Google search.”
Piero and that damned iPad of his.
“A colossal waste of time, I’m sure.” Niccolo had to crouch down to get a proper glimpse of himself in the small mirror above Julia’s dresser. He arranged the tie that Piero had delivered in a quick Windsor knot.
Just as he moved to turn his back on his reflection, his gaze fixed with Piero’s in the mirror. The uneasy look on his secretary’s face alarmed Niccolo more than any of the concerns he’d voiced thus far.
Something was wrong.
He turned around. “Piero.”
Piero’s gaze dropped to the floor.
“If there’s something you need to tell me, I urge you to do so before Miss Costa returns. Although, I cannot imagine what that could possibly be. She has no idea who I am. She’s completely harmless.” Niccolo wished he didn’t feel the need to repeat himself in this regard. Who was he trying to convince?
Piero looked up and squared his shoulders. “So you’re aware of her identity, then?”
“Her identity? Look around.” He waved his arms around the tiny space where she lived. “She’s no one.”
He regretted the callousness of the words the moment they left his mouth, but he’d had enough. Leaving Julia was difficult as it was—far more difficult than he would have ever imagined—without having to endure a lecture from his secretary.
“So you’re unaware that her father is Lucas Costa?”
Why did that name sound familiar? And why did Niccolo suddenly have a bad taste in his mouth?
Then it hit him. The name sounded familiar because he’d heard it before, usually muttered in the same breath as names like Charles Ponzi and Bernie Madoff.
Niccolo stood there a moment, gut tensing, head spinning, trying his level best to absorb Piero’s words.
Lucas Costa. The infamous Wall Street embezzler?
Impossible. He refused to believe it.
“TheLucas Costa?” Niccolo sank to the edge of the bed. “Lucas Costa is Julia’s father?”
There had to be some mistake.
“Yes, sir. Her photograph was in the newspapers quite a few times during her father’s trial and sentencing. The woman in the pictures was the same woman who just stepped outside.” Piero nodded toward the door.
Niccolo felt as though he’d taken a blow to his solar plexus. Sucker-punched.
Of all the women in Rome he could have bedded, he’d chosen the daughter of a notorious criminal. A criminal whose current address was a federal prison in America. How could this be?
