Chapter 5 The Game Unfolds

Dante

My anger stirred as I sank into the chair. I was with Marco, my most trusted ally, his tight features looking frustrated. "Why have her so close, boss?" he asked, his tone low and firm. "Of all people, Valeria DeLuca? After what her mentor did - stole the vineyard, your father's legacy? Vincenzo's betrayal was nasty, and now his protege is in your house. I don't trust her."

I glared at him in disdain, squinting my eyes. Marco was loyal, but he had these moments where he overstepped, challenging something he didn't understand. Valeria was a pawn on my board, a move I'd planned out long before she'd ever known my name. I'd planned her ruin-the debt, the betrayal of her family, the auction-not just to take back the vineyard but to take her. She was fire, wild and unbroken, a weapon I'd mould in my world. I opened my mouth to say she could be useful, but a muted sound outside the door interrupted me, too sharp and loud in the silence of the estate.

I jumped to my feet, my underworld instincts kicking in. "Who the hell is there?" I barked. I walked to the door, snatched it open, hand close to gun on my hip. The corridor was empty, the marble floor gleaming in the dull light of the chandelier. My heart rate was steady but alert as I scanned the shadows. Nothing. No footsteps, no shush of clothing. A trick of the mind, perhaps. I waved it aside, but a hint of doubt stuck around.

Back in the study, I glared at Marco. "Do your goddamn job," I commanded coldly, my voice leaving no room for argument. "Stay out of my plans. I know what I'm doing." My tone was firm. Valeria was not a mere pawn. She was a queen I had played carefully, moving her every step of the way. Marco nodded and I waved him out to gather my wits and regain my sense of purpose.

A few hours later I was back in my study, reading reports. There was a knock on the door which distracted me. "Come in," I said, not raising my eyes from the ledger. The door groaned open and Valeria stepped in. I didn't look up from the page, ignoring her, but something floral, sharp with the hint of femininity, drifted toward me on the musky air.

She swallowed hard and in her husky voice she read from an iPad, updating me on the goods I had her checking. I looked up, the hairs standing at the back of my neck.

She was in her pajamas: silk, not excessive but snug enough to highlight her curves. What made me freeze was her neckline, slightly off, showing a small expanse of pale, flawless skin. The gorgeous sweep of her collarbone, the fragile hollow of her throat-it was nothing and everything. My throat constricted, a primitive heat rumbling inside me. I took deep, shuddering breaths, my pulse racing. I squirmed in my chair, the leather creaking, suddenly feeling too hot in my suit.

I clenched my teeth, furious at my own weakness. "Valeria," I called. She glanced up, with her eyes meeting mine. "What the hell are you wearing?"

She blinked, looking down at herself with confusion twisting her features. "It's only pajamas, Mr. Moretti," she answered with even tones, though there was a glint of defiance in her eyes.

I leaned in, my fists tightening against the desk. "Can't you dress properly? Or, you think you can walk around like that in my house?" My words were cutting, designed to hurt and to restore order.

Valeria's jaw dropped in shock as she inspected her clothes once more. Then she slowly pulled up her neckline, covering it. She looked up again, her lips curling in mock smile. "I apologize," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't know I was seducing you."

I furrowed my brows at her as my anger flared up. She believed she could play with me? "Get out," I said through tense lips. "And keep your mind clean about me."

She laughed, a low, slicing sound that cut through me. "You can bet your life on it, Mr. Moretti. And I didn't even want to come here to start with." she said shrugging. And as she turned, her wet hair flung around, as she walked toward the door, which clicked closed like a gunshot in my head.

I leaped to my feet, my hands tightly balled into fists, and the ledger on my desk was disregarded. Her boldness marveled me, something I'd not been braced for from a woman who I'd purchased with two hundred million dollars. I made my way across the bar, my boots pounding on the oak floor, and wrenched open the humidor, the sweet smell of cigars steadying me. I lit the cigar and inhaled deeply, the smoke pooling around me as I shoved away the image of her-head bowed, silk pajamas clinging to her curves, the pale picture of that neckline seared across my brain.

My eyes narrowed in the direction of the door, that was closed. I'd forced her ruin-the debts, her family's disgrace, the auction-to make the vineyard that Vincenzo stole from my father's estate mine once more. I'd avoided her for a month, let her dissolve into the shadows of the estate, but tonight she'd gotten under my skin. That bare collarbone was nothing, but it undid me. My heart raced, betraying my hard control, and I gripped the cigar hard, the cherry in the end glowing red.

I walked out to the window, the city stretching flat beneath me, a kingdom of blood and brutality. Valeria was not a usual pawn-she'd built an empire from dust, her rebellion a reflection of mine. I planned to break her, to fashion her into my weapon, but she mocked and dared me, and it seemed she had her own game to play. The image of her skin came again, and I groaned under my breath, disturbed by the memory, the word silent but harsh. I ruled an empire that required discipline, and here I was, shaken by a woman I meant to bend to my will. "I suppose it's been a long time since I had a wild night!"