Roman
“What’s wrong? Missing Madison already?” Valentina teased, pouting out her bottom lip. It was true. He’d just seen her yesterday, but it already hurt like hell. They were both in the back of one of their father’s town cars—long, black, and bulletproof. Chicago was the last place he wanted to be right now and having a meeting with Rinaldi was on the top of his ‘shitty stuff to deal with’ list for the day.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, disturbing his thoughts. Reading it, he groaned. The message added more to the shit pile.
“That was Dom.” Roman tossed his cell on the seat. “There’s been an incident at the Genoa Arts Center. Similar description to the one at Madison’s shop, only worse.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Guy did a lot of damage and made the same threat. This is not random and there were at least a dozen scared shitless witnesses.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Yeah, he tossed in a small pipe bomb before he walked out the door. A few left in ambulances.” Roman blew out a defeated sigh.
“What? None of this makes any sense.” Valentina shook her head. “What do you think is going on?”
“I was positive it had something to do with me. But hell, I have nothing to do with the damn arts center. What the hell is going on? “
“Is it some kind of psycho who lives in town and gets off on threatening people?”
“The police said there was no one who lived there that matched the description Madison and Stephanie gave. What did you find out? Any names on your lists pop out?”
“Nothing yet, but I should be getting a printout shortly of all newly purchased properties in and around Genoa within the hour.” The car slowed down as they dropped Valentina off at her hair appointment. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything.”
“Thanks, sis.” He kissed her cheek.
“Have fun meeting your new fiancée.”
“Don’t start,” he warned. Valentina exited the car and Roman slammed his fist on the seat. He dreaded the upcoming meeting. His father was already at Rinaldi’s. Both men were planning his nuptials to a woman he’d never even met, while his heart was back in Genoa with the woman he wanted. He was only doing it to appease his father until he could figure out a way to tell him again this marriage was not happening.
The Rinaldi complex was similar to his father’s, with high gates, lots of cameras, and security. The person at the guard shack waved them right through. His driver parked in front, and Roman left the car with a feeling of impending doom. Not in a hurry to enter, he stretched and gazed up at the fortress in front of him.
There in the window above sat a woman staring at him. Madison? He took a step. What in the world was she doing here? Instead of procrastinating, he ran up the steps two at a time. Madison was in the house. He was dumbfounded and couldn’t think straight. His system flooded with fear and wonderment. It had to have been a trick of his mind. Showing up here made him realize how lovesick he was for Madison.
A maid answered the door when he rang the bell.
“Mr. Caponelli, right this way.” She gestured with her hand. He followed the short woman dressed all in black.
Cigar smoke filled the air as they approached the wide expanse of the living room. Roman could hear the deep timbre of his father’s voice in negotiation mode. Madison was the only thing he could concentrate on. His cell buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket. The text was from Madison.
Madison: Thank you for the beautiful display rack. Dominic is a master craftsman.
What the hell?
Roman: Where are you?
Madison: At the shop.
“Roman,” his father chastised. “Don’t be so rude. Put your phone away.”
Roman gazed up to see Rinaldi and his father staring him down from their plush side chairs in front of an enormous fireplace. Swirls of smoke wafted up from the fat cigars they each held.
“Sorry…” he stammered. “Business.” Roman shook off his bewilderment and walked to join the men in the discussion.
Roman had been up half the night coming up with alternate suggestions for bringing the families together. It was now time to tread carefully and make them.
Rinaldi stood and kissed him on both cheeks. “Welcome to my home.”
“Thank you.”
“Come and sit with us.”
“Father.” Roman nodded in acknowledgement to his dad.
Roman took a seat on the sofa across from the men.
“So,” Rinaldi started. “We have been talking. Your father feels that you are apprehensive about this arranged marriage. That makes me uncomfortable.” His eyebrows lowered.
Roman adjusted in his seat. His father offered no interference or support.
“Sir, I mean no disrespect. But I feel that we can make some other new arrangement. I hold your family and honor in the highest regard.” It was true. Roman had no reason to dislike or grudge Rinaldi’s family. If his father thought it was a good alliance, then he couldn’t argue. He would go with his gut.
“Going against the family’s wishes is not keeping the family number one.” Rinaldi had a point.
“Blood oaths have been an accepted practice among united families all the way back to Italy,” Roman countered.
Rinaldi’s face puffed and reddened. “Is my daughter not good enough for you?”
“Sir, I mean no disrespect. I am simply offering another solution.” Roman had never even met his daughter.
His father’s eyes narrowed at him. This was a blatant act of defiance against the family. His father could strip him of his title and disown him. He could wage bloody war against Roman if he wanted to. But his father was getting up in age and his taste for the life had grown tiresome. Roman marrying Rinaldi’s daughter was his retirement plan. A smart one set in motion years ago but not one Roman was willing to forfeit his happiness for. Not to mention the fact that he’d killed Diego, one of Rinaldi’s men. No one but Madison and the men who were there really knew the truth of what happened. Nevertheless, he had to stall this.
“Sir, I thank you for your hospitality but I regret to inform you that I cannot possibly marry your daughter.”
Rinaldi sat forward in his seat, steam coming out of his ears.
Roman’s father yelled, “What?”
“I cannot marry her, Father. I am already engaged.”