Page 25 of His to Wed
“You’ll have to. It’s for a couple’s massage.”
I grit my teeth. Fucking Olivia! She knows I’m not into that touchy-feely stuff. I hate the idea of stripping off and letting a stranger put their hands on me. It’s not something I find relaxing. Unfortunately, Emilia is grinning enthusiastically, so I don’t have the heart to refuse.
“I guess I could make an appointment for today.”
Emilia scoffs in disbelief. “Won’t that be too short notice?”
“For a Volante?”
Emilia snorts indelicately as she gets my meaning. People will drop whatever they’re doing to keep a member of my familyhappy. If they need to reschedule a few appointments to fit us in, the spa will do so without hesitation.
“Go take a shower while I set up the appointment.”
Emilia nods and scurries off to the bathroom, the sheet still wrapped around her. Pity. I’d love another glimpse of her perfect body. As she closes the bathroom door behind her, I scroll through my texts. There’s one from Gio, reminding me that today is my wife’s birthday and another from Mamma telling me the same thing. Does nobody trust me to remember?
There’s also a message from Antonio saying he needs to speak to me. He doesn’t get in touch with anything trivial, so I call him straight away.
“Tony,” I say when he answers. “Is everything okay?”
“One of your wife’s uncles has gone to ground.”
Obviously, Antonio has had a report from our cousin, Damiano. My brother put him in charge of things in Italy. He tasked him with ensuring there’s a smooth transfer of power from the Contis to our family. Most of Ernesto’s legitimate business will fall under my control since I can handle it from here, but there are some things that will have to be dealt with on the ground in San Vicente.
Though it’s my right as Emilia’s husband to assume command of every aspect of Conti’s operations, it makes more sense for Damiano to run things in Italy. He and his three brothers were born and raised in Rome and have an established network of business contacts and loyal soldiers to rely on. His unwavering loyalty to my family makes him the perfect person to look out for our interests. He’ll be rewarded for it.
“Which uncle?” I ask.
“Gianni.”
Shit!That can’t be good. He’s the uncle Emilia worked for. I saw them laughing together when I stayed at his hotel. I formed the impression they were close. If he hadn’t been her uncle, I’d have punched him in the throat when I saw him put his arm around her.
“Do you think one of the other brothers offed him?”
If they did, it narrows our list of suspects to her other uncles, Mario, and Pietro.
“I don’t know. He might be in hiding because he’s the one who ordered the hit.”
That is a possibility, of course. He could be lying low until he’s able to consolidate his power.
“What about his wife and kids?”
“Still in the family home.”
I consider that for a moment. “Would he have gone into hiding and left them behind?”
“Who knows?” Antonio says. “Anyway, Ernesto’s lawyer has been in touch to confirm what we already knew. His sons get nothing in the will. There are a few cash gifts for his grandsons, but the bulk of Ernesto’s estate goes to Emilia.”
Though this isn’t new information, my heart still sinks. If there was a target on Emilia’s back before, when her family find out about this, it’s going to get even bigger.
CHAPTER 10
Emilia
If ever there was a man who would benefit from a relaxing massage, it’s Alessandro. From the moment we left the house, he’s been tense. I don’t think it’s anything I’ve done. We shared a pleasant breakfast of Danish pastries. I asked him a million questions about the mansion and what he likes to do when he’s in Westport. He answered them all without showing the slightest hint of impatience. We were so at ease with each other, I could almost fool myself into believing we were normal newlyweds.
It was when he ushered me into the back of a black SUV that his body language changed. His white shirt seemed to stretch tight across his chest as his shoulders tensed. He practically shoved me into the car and then slammed the door once he’d got in next to me. When I didn’t immediately put my seatbelt on, he barked at me to do it. There’s definitely something up. I’d have to be blind not to notice we have an escort of two black cars identical to the one we’re traveling in. It’s obvious there’s some heightened risk, but I’m afraid to ask what it is.
“What have you got on your feet?” Alessandro asks out of the blue.
