Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 67

Damian’s POV

My pride wouldn't allow me to face her.

I lay with my back to Aria, staring at the wall like it held the secrets of the universe. The morning sun crept through the curtains, but I didn't move. My pride wouldn't let me turn around.

She's a perfect asset, I told myself. Keeps things simple. Business is business. No messy emotions, no complications. This is exactly what I wanted.

Business, I reminded myself firmly. Nothing more.

The next morning, I woke to Aria still sleeping beside me, her face peaceful for the first time in days. I'd managed maybe three hours of rest, but my body was already alert, ready for whatever the day would bring.

A sharp knock echoed through the estate. Lorenzo's knock.

I slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake Aria. She looked small against the white sheets, purple bruises still visible on her wrists. Someone had marked what was mine. The anger hit me fresh, cold and sharp.

My property was damaged, I reasoned. Of course that would displease me.

Lorenzo stood at attention in my office, his usually impeccable composure showing subtle signs of strain. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his normally pristine shirt showed the wrinkles of a man who'd worked through the night.

"Sir," he began without preamble, "we've completed our investigation into the kidnapping incident. We know who was responsible."

"This concerns me how?" I moved to my desk, deliberately arranging papers with movements designed to communicate disinterest. "I don't care about that woman's affairs. If she dies in the street tomorrow, if she encounters any other troubles, it has nothing to do with me. Get out. I don't want to know."

"Really, boss? Because last night you looked ready to burn down half of Florence to find her."

I paused in my paper shuffling, my jaw tightening. "Your point?"

"My point is that for a man who doesn't care, you've been checking your phone every thirty seconds since I walked in here. Almost like you're hoping for an update on her condition." His tone carried that particular brand of insolence that only decades of loyalty earned a man. "Also, when I mentioned we knew who did it, your hand moved to your gun."

Damn him. Lorenzo had started working for my family when I was eight years old, had watched me grow from a boy into the man who now commanded one of Italy's most powerful criminal organizations. He knew my tells better than I knew them myself.

"What did you find?"

Lorenzo's smile was positively wolfish. "Now that's more like it. And for the record, boss? This is the first time I've ever seen you rendered speechless. It's rather refreshing."

"Lorenzo."

"Yes, sir. The investigation revealed that it was indeed the little princess—Adriana Montrosso—who arranged for Aria's kidnapping. Vito really was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. "

"So what triggered this?"

Lorenzo pulled out his phone, scrolling through his notes. "Two things set her off that night. First, the girl showed up wearing a limited edition Hermès bag—apparently the same one Adriana had been trying to get for months. Word is, there were only three made in that color."

I frowned. "A handbag? She ordered a kidnapping over a handbag?"

"It gets worse. When you chose Aria as your dance partner at the gala instead of Adriana..." Lorenzo shook his head. "According to our sources, the princess lost it completely. She saw it as a public humiliation"

The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. Adriana didn't know about the surrogacy contract, didn't understand that Aria was anything more than hired help. She'd seen a servant girl carrying a bag worth more than most people's annual salary, then watched that same girl dance with the man she considered her future husband.

"She had no idea about our actual arrangement," I said slowly.

"None. To her, Aria was just some upstart servant who'd gotten too big for her britches. Someone who needed to be put back in her place."

"Set up a meeting with Adriana."

"Any particular reason?"

"Tell her it's a date." I could feel the cold smile spreading across my face. "She'll come running."

"You want to what?"

"Give her a lesson. She wanted to play games with my property? Fine. Let's see how she enjoys being on the receiving end."

Lorenzo's expression grew troubled. "Sir, she's Montrosso's granddaughter. The precious princess of one of our oldest allied families. The Montrosso family and ours have maintained deep ties for generations. "

"I don't care who she is. Anyone who attempts to touch what belongs to me should expect to pay a price. Family connections won't save her from the consequences of her actions."

"The alliance—"

"Will survive one spoiled princess learning respect." I moved to the window, gazing out at the manicured grounds of the estate. Somewhere in the house above, Aria was sleeping in my bed, probably still processing the trauma of what Adriana had put her through.

"She crossed a line, Lorenzo. No one touches what's mine. Not family, not allies, not God himself. Adriana needs to understand that there are consequences for her actions."

"And if Antonio objects?"

I turned back to face him, allowing my expression to show exactly how little that possibility concerned me. "Then Antonio can learn the same lesson his granddaughter is about to receive. The Cavalieri family protects its interests. Always."

Lorenzo studied my face for a long moment, probably cataloging the subtle signs that indicated I'd moved beyond rational calculation into something far more dangerous. When he spoke again, his voice carried the careful respect of a man who recognized he was addressing a predator.

"I'll make the arrangements, boss. Though for what it's worth, I think you might want to be very careful about what you're starting here. Adriana isn't just some random enemy—she's a princess who's used to getting exactly what she wants. Cross her, and you might find yourself dealing with more than just family politics."

"Good." My smile held no warmth whatsoever. "I wouldn't want this to be too easy."