Chapter 4 - The Woman He Was Supposed to MarryThe first time I met Adriana Vitali, I expected her to hate me.
Instead, she handed me a folder containing evidence that someone had stolen my inheritance.
She arrived at the flower shop shortly after six that evening.
She was thirty-two, with dark auburn hair cut just above her shoulders, flawless makeup, and a cream-colored coat that looked as though it belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine.
She stepped inside alone.
No bodyguards.
No dramatic entourage.
No expensive perfume announcing her arrival.
Just a woman carrying a leather briefcase and the expression of someone who had finally decided to stop being polite.
I was standing behind the counter.
Massimo was near the back office.
When Adriana saw him, she sighed.
"Of course you're here."
"Adriana."
"Massimo."
Their greeting was so cold that I almost checked the thermostat.
Adriana turned toward me.
"You must be Sophie."
"Unfortunately, yes."
To my surprise, she smiled.
"I've heard quite a lot about you."
"I'm afraid to ask."
"Mostly that you walked into Massimo's bedroom and somehow accomplished what I've been trying to do for two years."
I blinked.
"What?"
"Convince his grandmother to stop planning our wedding."
Massimo looked mildly offended.
"Rosa has never stopped planning weddings."
"True," Adriana admitted. "But she's finally planning one that doesn't involve me."
I stared at them.
"Can someone please explain why you're both acting like this is normal?"
Adriana placed her briefcase on the counter.
"Because our fathers spent years discussing an alliance, and Massimo and I have spent almost as long refusing it."
"Your father doesn't listen?"
"Only when money is involved."
"That's comforting."
She opened the case.
Inside were documents covered in sticky notes and highlighted passages.
"Let's start with your property."
She placed a photocopy in front of me.
It was a deed.
The address belonged to my father's greenhouse.
The document listed Miller Floral Design as the seller.
And at the bottom, beside the words Authorized Signature, was my name.
Sophie Miller.
It looked almost exactly like my handwriting.
Almost.
I touched the page.
"I didn't sign this."
"I know," Adriana said.
"How?"
"Because the notary named on the document wasn't licensed on the date it was supposedly executed."
Massimo leaned closer.
"You verified that?"
"Public records. The notary's commission expired the previous year."
I looked at Adriana.
"And someone filed this anyway?"
"An electronic transfer was submitted through a title company affiliated with Linden Holdings. The county recorder accepted the document into the public record. That doesn't make it valid, but it gives the appearance of ownership until it's challenged."
My throat tightened.
"Who owns Linden Holdings?"
Adriana pulled out another page.
"On paper, two investment trusts. In practice, my father and Carlo Romano control them through intermediaries."
Massimo studied the page.
"How did you get this?"
"I work in the financial division of my family's development company."
"I thought your father restricted your access."
"He did."
She smiled without humor.
"He also forgot that I designed half the reporting systems he's using."
I began to like her.
Against my better judgment.
Adriana turned another page.
"The South Branch redevelopment project requires access across Sophie's land. Without it, the current financing arrangement becomes much more difficult."
"How much money is involved?" I asked.
She hesitated.
"Roughly eighty million dollars in projected financing and investment commitments."
I nearly dropped the document.
"Eighty million?"
"Not all profit," she clarified. "But enough that several people have become desperate to make the deal happen."
Massimo's expression darkened.
"And the marriage?"
Adriana slid another document toward him.
"The proposed family partnership agreement includes voting provisions tied to the Romano Foundation's redevelopment subsidiary."
He read silently.
Then his jaw tightened.
"This wasn't in the last version."
"No. Father added it after you rejected the original arrangement."
"What does it do?" I asked.
Adriana looked at Massimo.
He answered.
"It changes who controls certain assets if I die or become unable to serve before the financing closes."
My stomach dropped.
"Who gets control?"
"My uncle."
Silence settled over the shop.
I looked from Massimo to Adriana.
"Are you telling me someone wants you married so they can take your property if something happens to you?"
"Yes," Adriana said.
"And someone has already forged my signature to take my land."
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"Then why does it feel as though we're discussing a business proposal instead of a murder plot?"
Nobody answered.
That frightened me more than I wanted to admit.
Adriana closed the folder.
"I don't know whether my father intends to kill anyone," she said carefully. "But I know he's hiding information from regulators, and I know Carlo has been moving assets without authorization."
Massimo looked toward the front windows.
"Vittorio has been pushing for the gala announcement."
"He needs the agreement finalized before Monday's financing review."
"And Carlo needs my approval."
"Or a reason you're no longer in charge."
I felt sick.
I had believed the most dangerous thing about this family was their reputation.
Now I understood the real danger might be the people sitting at their dinner table.
I looked at Adriana.
"Why are you helping us?"
She hesitated.
Then, for the first time, her polished composure broke.
"Because three months ago, I found an internal report about the South Branch warehouse fire."
My heart stopped.
"What report?"
"It was prepared for our insurance department in 2018. It raised questions about irregular shipments and missing safety records."
"What happened to it?"
"It was marked closed without further review."
"By whom?"
She looked down.
"My father."
I gripped the counter.
"Did he know people died?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't he tell anyone?"
Adriana's eyes filled with tears.
"That's what I've been asking myself."
We stared at each other.
For a moment, she was no longer the rich woman whose father wanted to marry her to a mafia boss.
She was someone trying to decide what to do when the truth about her own family became unbearable.
I knew that feeling.
Or I was beginning to.
Massimo spoke quietly.
"Why didn't you bring this to me earlier?"
Adriana looked at him.
"Because you refused to answer my calls."
"I thought you were trying to convince me to sign the marriage agreement."
"I was trying to tell you the agreement had been altered."
"You could have left a message."
"My father's assistants read my messages."
They stared at each other.
Then Massimo sighed.
"We have been remarkably bad at communicating."
"That's the first sensible thing you've said in years," Adriana replied.
I laughed before I could stop myself.
Both turned toward me.
"Sorry," I said. "It's just refreshing to hear someone else insult him."
Adriana smiled.
"I have a decade of practice."
Massimo gave us both an unimpressed look.
"Wonderful. You've formed an alliance."
"An unofficial one," I said.
"With excellent paperwork," Adriana added.
For a few minutes, the room felt almost normal.
Then June emerged from the back office.
"Sophie, can I speak to you?"
I followed her.
She closed the door.
"Do you trust him?"
I knew exactly whom she meant.
"Massimo?"
June nodded.
I thought about it.
"Not completely."
"Good."
"June—"
"I'm serious. I don't care how handsome he is. A man with private security and a family full of secrets isn't exactly a safe dating prospect."
"We're not dating."
"That's not what the internet says."
My stomach tightened.
"What internet?"
June held out her phone.
A photograph filled the screen.
It showed me standing in Massimo's bedroom.
My hands were raised.
His robe was half open.
The angle made it look as though we'd been standing intimately close.
Underneath was a headline from a gossip account:
CHICAGO'S MOST ELIGIBLE CRIME BOSS CAUGHT WITH MYSTERY WOMAN HOURS BEFORE ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCEMENT.
I stared.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
June scrolled.
More photographs.
My flower shop.
My business logo.
My name.
Someone had already identified me.
There were hundreds of comments.
Some were cruel.
Some were vulgar.
Others accused me of deliberately seducing a wealthy man to escape financial problems.
I felt my face burn.
"How did anyone get that picture?"
June looked grim.
"That's what I want to know."
I marched into the front room.
"Massimo!"
He turned.
I held up the phone.
"Explain this."
His expression changed the moment he saw the photograph.
Adriana leaned over his shoulder.
"That's a security image."
"How do you know?" I demanded.
Massimo pointed to a faint timestamp in the corner.
"The angle is from the camera outside my bedroom."
I stared.
"So someone in your house leaked this?"
"Yes."
"And now everyone thinks I'm sleeping with you."
Adriana glanced at the photograph.
"To be fair, you look more like you're being arrested."
I shot her a look.
"Not helping."
"Sorry."
Massimo took out his phone.
"Enzo. Find the source of the leak."
I folded my arms.
"No."
He looked at me.
"No?"
"You're not solving this by threatening whoever posted it."
"I wasn't planning to."
"You have an expression that suggests otherwise."
His jaw tightened.
"Sophie, someone is trying to damage both of us."
"Then we tell the truth."
Adriana nodded.
"I agree."
Massimo looked surprised.
I continued.
"You tell your family there is no relationship. You tell the press nothing romantic happened. And you stop using me as an excuse to avoid your engagement."
For a moment, I thought he would argue.
Instead, he said, "All right."
I blinked.
"All right?"
"Yes."
"Just like that?"
"You asked me to tell the truth."
I crossed my arms more tightly.
"That was suspiciously reasonable."
Massimo almost smiled.
Then Adriana's phone rang.
She glanced down.
Her expression changed.
"It's my father."
"Don't answer," Massimo said.
"I have to."
She stepped away.
We watched her speak quietly for less than a minute.
When she returned, her face was pale.
"What happened?" I asked.
Adriana swallowed.
"He knows I'm here."
Massimo straightened.
"What did he say?"
"He said I should remember what happens to people who betray their families."
I looked at her.
"Is that a threat?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
Massimo reached for his phone.
"Enzo can arrange somewhere safe for you."
Adriana looked at him.
"Massimo, my father isn't simply angry about the contract."
"What is it?"
She took a breath.
"He's moving money out of the South Branch development accounts. Large transfers. All scheduled to clear after tomorrow night's gala."
"To where?"
"Companies registered outside Illinois."
Massimo's expression hardened.
"Which means he's preparing to disappear."
"Or preparing for something to happen that would make the transfers difficult to challenge."
My stomach tightened.
The gala.
The unauthorized floral crate.
The forged security badge.
The timing suddenly seemed horrifyingly deliberate.
I looked at Massimo.
"Cancel the event."
He didn't hesitate.
"I'll speak to the foundation directors."
"Don't speak to them. Cancel it."
"Some of them may be involved. If we announce a cancellation before securing the records, whoever is responsible could destroy evidence or change their plans."
"Then call federal investigators."
"That's exactly what we should do."
I stared.
He looked at Adriana.
"Who do you trust?"
She thought for a moment.
"There's an attorney my company worked with during a compliance review. She referred me to an investigator when I raised concerns."
"Name?"
"Maya Torres. She's assigned to a federal financial-crimes task force."
Massimo nodded.
"Contact her."
I exhaled slowly.
For the first time, I could see a path that didn't involve solving everything with armed men.
We would take the evidence to someone outside the family.
Someone who could investigate it.
Someone who could actually arrest the people responsible.
Adriana stepped away to make the call.
Massimo turned toward me.
"You should go somewhere safe until this is resolved."
I glared.
"Don't start."
"I'm serious."
"So am I. My business is here. My employees are here. My father's records are here."
"I know."
"Then stop treating me as though I can be packed into a suitcase and stored somewhere convenient."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"You're right."
I blinked.
He continued.
"I've spent years believing that protecting people means deciding what happens to them."
"And?"
"I'm beginning to understand how unpleasant that can be."
I stared.
"Was that another apology?"
"Don't get used to it."
I smiled despite myself.
There was a long, strange silence.
Massimo stepped closer.
I noticed a tiny scar along his jaw.
A faint line near his eyebrow.
The tiredness beneath his eyes.
For the first time, I wondered what his life had been like before people began fearing him.
"Why do you do it?" I asked quietly.
"Do what?"
"Keep everything under control."
His expression changed.
"Because when things fall apart, people get hurt."
"People get hurt when you refuse to trust them, too."
He looked at me.
Neither of us moved.
Then my phone rang.
The moment vanished.
It was June.
She was standing near the front windows.
"Sophie," she said urgently. "You need to see this."
I hurried over.
A black sedan was parked across the street.
Its engine was running.
The driver sat behind tinted glass.
I recognized the vehicle.
I'd seen it outside my apartment two nights earlier.
And outside the greenhouse earlier that week.
I turned toward Massimo.
"That car has been following me."
His expression hardened.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He spoke quietly into his phone.
Within moments, Enzo and another security guard moved toward the front entrance.
But before they could reach the car, it pulled away.
As it turned the corner, the driver lowered his window.
For one brief second, I saw his face.
Short blond hair.
A dark jacket.
A thin scar beside his mouth.
Massimo stepped beside me.
"What?"
I stared at the disappearing vehicle.
"I've seen him before."
"Where?"
I closed my eyes.
Then I remembered.
Three days earlier, a man had delivered a sealed envelope to my flower shop.
He claimed to represent a development company interested in my greenhouse land.
He offered ninety thousand dollars.
When I refused, he said something strange.
People who hold on to dead things sometimes end up buried with them.
I'd assumed he was an arrogant businessman.
Now I wasn't so sure.
I looked at Massimo.
"He came to my shop."
"When?"
"Tuesday."
"What did he want?"
"My father's land."
Massimo's face became frighteningly still.
"Did he give you a name?"
I nodded.
"Dominic Vale."
The man who had disappeared from the Romano mansion.
The man whose security team had helped move the unauthorized crate.
The man who had apparently forged my access badge.
Massimo looked toward the street.
And I understood something I hadn't wanted to admit.
The danger had not started when I walked into his bedroom.
It had started long before I ever accepted the Romano family's floral contract.
Someone had been watching me.
Studying my business.
Trying to buy my father's land.
And when I refused to sell, they had found another way to bring me into their world.
That evening, as I stood beside Massimo beneath the blue awning of my flower shop, I finally asked him the question that had been bothering me since breakfast.
"Who hired my company for your gala?"
He didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
"Massimo?"
His jaw tightened.
"The final vendor selection came from my uncle's office."
A cold feeling spread through me.
"Carlo hired me?"
"His event coordinator approved your company."
I stepped away.
"And you knew?"
"I knew your company had been selected. I didn't know why."
"But you knew who my father was."
"After I reviewed the vendor records."
"When?"
He looked at me.
"Before you arrived."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
The photographs.
The missing records.
The forged signatures.
The threats.
And the man standing beside me had known there was a connection before I'd even entered his house.
"You should have told me," I whispered.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I didn't have proof."
"That's not good enough."
"I know."
I looked away.
For one terrible second, I wondered whether I had simply exchanged one dangerous stranger for another.
Then Adriana returned with her phone.
"I spoke to Investigator Torres."
Massimo turned.
"And?"
"She wants the records preserved. She'll meet with us tonight."
I looked toward the street.
The sky was turning dark.
The shop windows reflected the passing cars.
Everything looked normal.
But none of it felt normal anymore.
Adriana glanced between us.
"There's something else."
"What?" Massimo asked.
"My father sent me a copy of tomorrow's gala program."
"Why?"
"He said I needed to understand that the announcement would happen whether I agreed or not."
She handed over the program.
Massimo read it.
His expression turned cold.
Then he showed it to me.
The first page displayed the Romano family crest.
Beneath it was a photograph of the South Branch redevelopment project.
The final section listed an announcement scheduled for 9:30 p.m.
THE ROMANO–VITALI PARTNERSHIP: A NEW FUTURE FOR CHICAGO.
Underneath were three signatures.
Vittorio Vitali.
Carlo Romano.
And Massimo Romano.
Massimo stared at the page.
"I never signed this."
Adriana nodded grimly.
"I know."
May you like
Somebody had forged his approval too.
And tomorrow night, they intended to announce a partnership neither of us had agreed to.
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