Chapter 2 - FOUR WORDS THAT MADE HER HIS SECRET GIRLFRIEND
Massimo’s mother recovered first.
“Caterina,” the elderly woman said mildly, “perhaps we should allow the young people some privacy.”
“Mother, this is not amusing.”
“I disagree.”
I stepped forward.
“Please, I can explain.”
Massimo’s grandmother looked at me.
“Of course you can, dear.”
“I work for the floral company.”
Her smile widened.
“How charming.”
“No, I mean I literally work for the floral company. I’m here because your flowers—”
“Sophie,” Massimo interrupted.
I turned.
“Don’t Sophie me.”
One of the older men coughed into his hand.
Massimo reached for a black robe hanging beside the wardrobe.
“We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”
“No, we absolutely will not discuss this tomorrow. We’re discussing it right now, because I’ve never met you before tonight, I don’t know who Adriana is, and I certainly haven’t been spending the night with your grandson.”
The elderly woman looked delighted.
Massimo looked toward the ceiling as if asking heaven for patience.
His mother did not smile.
“Massimo. Tomorrow morning. Before the guests arrive.”
“Mother.”
“You cannot simply introduce an unknown woman into your private rooms on the eve of an important family announcement.”
I raised my hand.
“I’m very known, actually. My name is Sophie Miller, and you hired my business.”
Nobody acknowledged this.
Massimo’s voice became colder.
“Leave us.”
One of the gentlemen started to object.
Massimo turned toward him.
“I said leave.”
Nobody argued again.
That frightened me more than the gun.
These were wealthy, powerful people who seemed perfectly comfortable telling everyone else what to do.
Yet one quiet sentence from Massimo Romano sent them toward the door.
His grandmother went last.
She stopped beside me.
“Breakfast is at nine.”
“I won’t be here at nine.”
She smiled.
“We’ll see.”
The doors closed.
I turned toward Massimo.
“What the hell was that?”
He finished tying his robe.
“An inconvenience.”
“An inconvenience? Your family thinks I’m sleeping with you.”
“Yes.”
“And you told them I was with you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He crossed toward a cabinet and poured himself a glass of water.
Not whiskey.
Not bourbon.
Water.
For some reason, that irritated me.
“My family expects me to announce an engagement tomorrow.”
“To Adriana.”
“Adriana Vitali.”
“Congratulations. I hope you’re very happy together.”
“I don’t intend to marry her.”
“Then tell her.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Marriage generally requires two willing people. That seems pretty simple.”
He looked at me.
“You’re not familiar with my family.”
“I’m becoming familiar against my will.”
For the first time, I saw genuine amusement cross his face.
It lasted less than a second.
Then he placed the glass down.
“The engagement is tied to an agreement between two families. Shipping interests, property holdings, business partnerships.”
“That sounds romantic.”
“Six hours ago, I received information suggesting someone connected to the arrangement has been purchasing confidential information from one of my senior people.”
I stopped.
“What kind of information?”
“The kind that gets people killed when it reaches the wrong hands.”
The room seemed colder.
Massimo continued.
“If I publicly refuse the engagement without explanation, whoever is responsible may realize I know about the leak.”
“And if you accuse someone?”
“I risk exposing the person who warned me.”
I stared.
“So you decided to tell your family you were involved with the florist?”
“It provided an immediate explanation.”
“An immediate explanation for you. It creates a disaster for me.”
“I can compensate you.”
There it was.
Money.
The universal solution for people who had never been told no.
I took a step closer.
“I don’t care how rich you are. You don’t get to purchase my reputation because it’s convenient.”
He studied me.
“I wasn’t trying to insult you.”
“You succeeded accidentally. Congratulations.”
He folded his arms.
“What would you prefer?”
“For you to tell your family the truth.”
“Which truth?”
“That I walked into the wrong bathroom.”
“And why were you directed to an unused bathroom inside my private suite?”
“Because your house is the size of a shopping mall and somebody gave me terrible directions.”
He went still.
“What did you say?”
“Your house is enormous.”
“No. Who gave you the directions?”
“Elena. The housekeeper.”
He looked toward the hallway.
I remembered his expression when I first mentioned her.
“Is something wrong?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then he reached for his phone.
“Marco. Find Elena. Quietly. And have security review the west-wing corridor footage from eleven thirty onward.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
Massimo looked at me.
“Because the bathroom you were supposed to use is on the opposite side of the house.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Then Elena made a mistake.”
“Perhaps.”
“You’re acting like she deliberately sent me here.”
“I don’t know yet.”
He put his phone down.
Then he asked a question that changed everything.
“Did anyone know you were coming upstairs?”
I thought about Jasmine, the leaking pipe, Elena’s worried face.
“I don’t think so.”
Massimo’s expression hardened.
“Then somebody wanted you to be alone.”
I laughed nervously.
“That’s ridiculous.”
He didn’t laugh.
And suddenly I wanted very badly to leave.
“I need to go home.”
“I’ll have someone drive you.”
“I have a car.”
“It’s after midnight.”
“I’m aware.”
“The security gates are closed until my people verify what happened.”
I stared at him.
“You don’t get to keep me here.”
He stepped away from the door.
“You’re free to leave. I’ll ask security to escort you to your car.”
That should have reassured me.
May you like
It didn’t.
Because for the first time, I wondered whether my entrance into his bedroom had been an accident at all.
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