Page 3 of The Leader

A simple Google search had proven that the billionaire mogul fit the profile. Tall, dark, and handsome. Add in his wealth, and it painted a picture of a spoiled, entitled man, who was used to getting what he wanted. A man who took, but never gave anything in return. Her sister’s marriage was proof of what a man like Detta was capable of. How he could snuff the life and light out of someone.

“That’s what you are wearing tonight?” Gina’s look of disdain couldn’t be missed.

Jazzy looked down on her pink sport shorts and gray top. She was all sweaty, having just returned from a run and, after a shower, she was obviously going to change. Then again, the outfit she had chosen to wear for dinner—skinny jeans and a simple silk top—wouldn’t have met Gina’s approval either. Her cousin did love to make her feel as if wearing anything but a designer dress during their weekly family dinner equaled a capital offense.

Well, she wasn’t going to dress up, just so Detta could check her out as if he were buying a horse.

“I sure am,” Jazzy lied, as she sent a message to Tommie. Her former college mate and business partner had send her some files she needed to take a look at. Their business plan was coming nicely together, but there were still some things they had to decide on.

“Guess you’re not making a play for him then?” Gina asked, a sneer in her voice.

“Of course not. And neither should you.” She might not always see eye-to-eye with Gina, but she wouldn’t wish her sister’s fate on any woman.

“That’s easy for you to say. You have always been the favorite. The old man can’t refuse you a thing, always granting you more freedom than any of us.” This time, there was a bitterness in Gina’s tone no one could have missed. It even made Mary look up from the couch.

“That’s not true,” Jazzy protested.

“Isn’t it? Which one of us was allowed to live in a dorm room? Which one of us was allowed to go on a road trip to Canada?”

Jazzy was speechless for a moment. She’d never considered these things before. In hindsight, perhaps her grandfather had granted her more freedom, or so it may seem from the outside. Gina had no idea of what Jazzy had been through; how she had gone on a path of self-destruction during her teens. Picking a fight with any kid who even looked at her funny, ready to hit them before they could attack her. Her so-called “road trip” had been to a personal boot camp. In a desperate attempt to keep her from getting hurt, her grandfather had locked her up with a martial arts teacher for a whole month. Right until the moment Jazzy had been beaten down as many times as she was able to get up. Until she had finally gained some control over her body, her life. Until she no longer woke up every night from a nightmare, screaming her lungs out. Until her grandfather could come to grips with what had happened under his own roof. Something he carried a guilt over to this day.

“I had no idea you felt this way.”

Gina snorted. “Of course you didn’t. All you care about is your precious laptop. We are going to loseeverythingif one of us doesn’t marry this man. Maybe you can, but I won’t be this selfish. I will never be granted total freedom anyway, so I have a simple choice to make. If I’m going to live in a golden cage for the rest of my life, I would like it to be a nice one, thebestone. Gina Rossi doesn’t do poverty.”

And of course, it was no hardship to marry the man. Giovanni Detta was hot after all. He seemed to have cold eyes, but from Gina’s point of view, his net worth would more than make up for that. Gina would consider him an upgrade from her latest ex, a stock market millionaire.

She supposed Gina did have a point, from a practical standpoint. With their background, no ordinary man would survive their family and all that came with it. Their grandfather reminded them, all too often, about how they could be used as leverage against him. How they could end up getting hurt if a deal went wrong. Hence the “you need to marry into a strong family” mantra. Something she would have called him on, if her uncle hadn’t been killed in a hit and run years ago.

“Gina, please,” Mary chimed in from across the hall. “I’d think you would be glad. After all, this way, there’s less competition for you.” She winked at Jazzy, in a clear attempt to lighten the mood.

“Right.” Gina’s look said she didn’t consider Jazzy competition whatsoever. With a confident smile on her face, she turned and went upstairs.

Gina was right, of course. After all, Gina looked like an Italian goddess: tall, with blond, glossy, curly hair, and packaged in a designer dress. Jazzy, on the other hand, curvy, with her ragged skinny jeans, and biker boots, didn’t exactly fit the profile of a high-society wife.

“How are you holding up?” Mary asked as she came up to her. “I haven’t seen much of you after Mike’s funeral.”

“I’m fine.” She didn’t want to discuss the aftermath of her friend’s death. There wasn’t anything to discuss. He’d lived, got caught by the cruel monster called cancer, and had died. The world had lost a light; the universe, a star. Yet scum like Carmen’s husband got to live a full and healthy life. There was no justice in the world sometimes.

Mary gave her a pensive look. “You always say you are.”

“So, what about you? Do you want me to get you out of here?” Jazzy asked jokingly, in a desperate attempt to change the subject. She knew Mary would never shirk her duty—and that was the way she saw it—and leave. But if she did, Jazzy would find a way to get her out of the mansion before dinner. She had seen the cars arriving from a distance. Right now, the men were discussing business in the library. They still had about an hour. It wouldn’t be too hard to sneak past them, without ever even having to come face to face with Detta.

“Actually, I want to stay.” Mary’s cheeks turned pink. “See where this goes.”

“You do?” Jazzy asked, unable to hide her surprise.

“I’m not like you,” Mary said softly. “I just want to be a mom, have a family. And maybe heisthe one. Maybe not. But I would like the chance to find out.”

“But think of the life you’d have as the wife of a man like Giovanni Detta,” Jazzy warned. “Surely he has enemies. No one becomes a billionaire at his age without some skeletons in his closet. You would have a security detail everywhere you went, for the rest of your life.” Also, she had a feeling that a man like that would have a tight leash on his wife.

Mary cocked a brow. “Don’t we already have one?”

“Yeah, but that’s because ofNonno. If you would marry someone outside of this world, you wouldn’t need bodyguards anymore. You would be free.” At least, that’s the way she envisioned her life.

“I like the security they give me,” Mary confessed, her eyes going to the scar on Jazzy’s wrist. The scar that had nearly cost her the use of her arm. “I need to feel safe. Ever since that night… if it hadn’t been for you, Jazzy—”

“Please don’t mention that night,” she cut her off.

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