Chapter 2 - The Mafia Grandmother Who Chose Her Grandson’s Bride Before Breakfast Was Over
The Romano family dining room was larger than Elena's entire apartment.
A long walnut table occupied the center, surrounded by upholstered chairs and illuminated by a chandelier that looked as though it had been borrowed from a European palace. Tall windows overlooked manicured gardens, while a fireplace crackled beneath a portrait of an unsmiling man Elena assumed was one of Sebastian's ancestors.
At the far end of the table sat an elderly woman in an elegant burgundy dress.
Her silver hair was arranged in a precise bun. Diamonds gleamed at her ears. A walking cane rested against her chair, although the way she inspected Elena suggested that she could probably manage the entire household without it.
Viviana Romano.
The woman who had reportedly persuaded three rival businessmen to abandon a property dispute simply by inviting them to dinner.
Elena had read about her in a magazine profile once. The article described Viviana as a philanthropist, a formidable hostess, and the quiet influence behind generations of Romano family decisions.
The article had not mentioned that she looked capable of detecting a lie through a closed door.
Viviana rose when Elena entered.
"So," she said in Italian-accented English, "you are the girl who finally convinced my grandson to sleep in his own office instead of working through the night."
Elena nearly dropped the ledger.
"That is not—"
"Viviana," Sebastian interrupted.
His grandmother lifted one hand.
"Let her speak. I like to hear how people explain themselves when they are nervous."
"I'm not nervous," Elena said automatically.
Viviana smiled.
"Excellent. Then you won't mind sitting beside me."
Before Elena could protest, Isabella appeared with a chair and placed it at the grandmother's right hand.
Sebastian watched this development with the resigned expression of a man who had lost an argument before it began.
Elena sat.
Across the table, a young man with dark hair and an expensive watch raised his coffee cup toward her.
"Adrian Romano," he introduced himself. "Sebastian's cousin. Occasional disappointment to the family."
"He's being modest," Sebastian said.
Adrian grinned.
"Thank you. I try."
Beside him sat a broad-shouldered man with a closely trimmed beard and the calm, watchful eyes of someone accustomed to noticing details. Elena recognized him as Luca Bianchi, Sebastian's chief of security, whom she had briefly met while entering the private office the previous evening.
Farther down the table were two aunts, three cousins, and a pair of younger relatives who looked delighted by the prospect of scandal.
Elena suddenly understood why Sebastian had sounded so resigned when his grandmother called.
This was not breakfast.
It was an investigation conducted with toast.
Isabella poured coffee into Elena's cup.
"How long have you known my son?"
Elena nearly choked.
Sebastian reached for his water.
"Mother."
"What? It is a perfectly reasonable question."
"Two days," Elena answered.
Isabella blinked.
"Two days?"
"Technically, we met properly yesterday afternoon."
Viviana tilted her head.
"And you were already spending the night in his private office?"
Elena closed her eyes briefly.
"Mrs. Romano, I was working."
"Viviana," the grandmother corrected. "If we are going to become family, you may call me Viviana."
Elena opened her eyes.
"We are not—"
"Not yet," Viviana agreed. "But I am an optimist."
Adrian laughed into his coffee.
Sebastian gave him a look that immediately restored his composure.
Viviana turned back to Elena.
"Tell me something about yourself."
"I am an accountant."
"That explains why my grandson's office looks like a crime scene for paper."
"I was reviewing the foundation's financial records."
"Good. We need someone who understands numbers. The last financial advisor Sebastian hired charged us a fortune and couldn't explain why our flower budget exceeded the cost of the flowers."
"That was a different department," Sebastian said.
"And still a tragedy."
Elena smiled before she could stop herself.
Viviana noticed.
"There. That's better."
"What's better?" Elena asked.
"You smiling. My grandson has forgotten that a conversation can contain something other than threats and quarterly reports."
"I know how to have conversations," Sebastian said.
"Give me three examples."
Adrian began counting on his fingers.
"Property disputes. Security briefings. Arguments about who gets the window seat in the helicopter."
"Enough," Sebastian said.
Elena laughed.
The sound seemed to surprise him.
For a moment, his gaze settled on her face with an attention that made her forget the entire family was watching.
Then Viviana placed her fork on the table.
"Sebastian tells me that you are working with him on a financial matter."
Elena glanced at him.
He had apparently decided to tell the family something resembling the truth, which was considerably better than inventing a romantic story.
"Yes. I've identified inconsistencies in some foundation payments."
"Is the matter serious?"
"Potentially. I'm still investigating."
Viviana nodded slowly.
"Then it is fortunate you are here."
Elena stiffened.
"Why?"
The grandmother regarded her steadily.
"Because this family has more money than it knows what to do with, and occasionally more secrets than sense. If someone is stealing from our charitable foundation, I would like to know before my grandson decides that locking every employee in a room is an acceptable accounting procedure."
Sebastian looked offended.
"I would never lock every employee in a room."
"Only the ones who irritate you?"
"Grandmother."
Viviana smiled.
"See? We are making progress already."
Elena glanced at the ledger beside her plate.
The conversation had turned unexpectedly serious.
"Do you know anything about Bellanova Outreach?" she asked.
A faint change crossed the room.
It was subtle.
A pause in a conversation.
A fork lowered slightly.
Luca looked toward Sebastian.
Viviana's expression remained composed, but her fingers moved to the handle of her teacup.
"Bellanova was introduced to the foundation by the Duca family," she said. "They claimed to have the expertise needed to coordinate mobile medical services."
"Did you approve the arrangement?"
"I approved the principle of expanding medical outreach. I did not personally approve every vendor invoice."
"Someone used the former controller's credentials to authorize payments after his death."
Viviana's face hardened.
"Then someone has abused the trust of this family."
Elena studied her.
"Would you support an independent audit?"
"Absolutely."
Sebastian looked at his grandmother.
"That means external investigators and the possibility that the findings could embarrass people in this room."
Viviana's eyes flashed.
"Then people in this room should hope they have done nothing shameful."
For the first time, Elena felt that the elderly woman was more than a family matriarch with an appetite for gossip.
She cared about the foundation.
And she appeared to understand that the truth might be more important than protecting appearances.
Viviana turned to Elena.
"You may examine any records necessary to establish what happened. If someone attempts to interfere, tell me."
"Thank you."
"And if you discover that my grandson is responsible, tell me that, too."
Sebastian sighed.
"Why am I always the presumed criminal?"
"Because you have spent thirty years cultivating an alarming reputation."
"Twenty-nine."
"That distinction does not help you."
Elena hid a smile behind her coffee cup.
The breakfast continued, but the questions soon returned to the subject of her relationship with Sebastian.
It began innocently enough.
Viviana asked whether Elena preferred the city or the countryside.
Isabella wanted to know whether she enjoyed traveling.
An aunt inquired about Elena's family.
Then Adrian asked whether Sebastian had always been this charming.
"No," Elena replied. "He has improved considerably since yesterday."
Adrian nearly spat out his coffee.
Sebastian slowly turned toward her.
"Careful, Miss Foster."
"Or what?"
His eyes narrowed.
For one electric second, she thought he might actually smile.
"Or my grandmother will decide you are perfect for me."
Viviana leaned forward.
"Too late."
Elena nearly dropped her spoon.
"Please don't decide anything before you've even met my mother."
"I would be delighted to meet her."
"That isn't what I meant."
"Of course not."
The grandmother sipped her tea.
"But if your mother is anything like you, I suspect we will get along."
Elena looked helplessly at Sebastian.
He offered no assistance whatsoever.
Instead, he murmured, "I warned you."
She leaned toward him.
"You said we had twenty minutes."
"We've passed that."
"You owe me compensation."
"I'll add it to your consulting agreement."
She stared at him.
Then she laughed despite herself.
Across the table, Isabella's expression softened as she watched them.
It was not the delighted look of someone who had caught a couple behaving scandalously.
It was the expression of a mother who had seen her son withdraw further and further into a life of obligations and had just witnessed him laughing with a woman who was not frightened to challenge him.
When breakfast ended, Viviana rose and touched Elena's shoulder.
"Come walk with me, cara."
Elena glanced at Sebastian.
His expression warned her that refusing would accomplish nothing.
She followed the grandmother into the adjoining conservatory, where sunlight filtered through glass panels and illuminated rows of white orchids.
Viviana waited until the doors closed.
Then her expression became unexpectedly serious.
"Do you know why I invited you to sit beside me?"
"Because you wanted to interrogate me more efficiently?"
Viviana laughed.
"Perhaps. But mostly because I wanted to see whether you would look at my grandson as though he were a man or a throne."
Elena considered that.
"What do you mean?"
"Many people want something from Sebastian. Money. Protection. Influence. Access. Some fear him so much that they cannot speak honestly in his presence. Others worship his reputation because they believe it makes them powerful by association."
Viviana looked toward the windows.
"I have watched him build a life around the idea that he must always be the strongest person in the room. He rarely lets anyone see him uncertain, tired, or afraid."
"Maybe he has reasons."
"He does."
The old woman's voice softened.
"But reasons can become cages when a person never questions them."
Elena thought of Sebastian sitting across from her in the office, explaining that he would respect her right to leave even if she rejected the arrangement.
She had expected a powerful man to use his position as leverage.
Instead, he had negotiated terms.
"I don't know him well enough to judge his entire life," Elena said.
Viviana smiled.
"That is one of the reasons I like you."
Then she reached into the pocket of her dress and withdrew a small velvet box.
Elena stared at it.
"No."
Viviana opened the box.
Inside lay a diamond ring.
"Absolutely not."
"It belonged to my mother."
"It's beautiful, but—"
"I'm not asking you to wear it today."
Elena blinked.
"Then why are you showing it to me?"
"Because my grandson has spent a year refusing to discuss his future. Last month, he told me that marriage was an outdated arrangement designed to make people unhappy in expensive clothes."
"That sounds like something he might say."
"And this morning, he asked me not to announce his engagement because he had found someone he wanted to know better."
Elena went still.
"He said that?"
"Not in those exact words."
Viviana smiled mischievously.
"He said something considerably less romantic. But I am very good at interpreting Sebastian."
Elena stared at the ring.
"Mrs. Romano—"
"Viviana."
"Viviana, I need you to understand something. I am not looking for a wealthy husband, and I'm certainly not trying to marry into your family."
"Excellent."
Elena blinked.
"Excellent?"
"If you were looking for a husband because you wanted my family's money, I would be far less interested in you."
Viviana closed the box and slipped it back into her pocket.
"All I ask is that you be honest with him. And with yourself."
Elena was silent for a moment.
Then she said, "I agreed to help him investigate a financial problem. That's all."
Viviana studied her.
"For now?"
Elena looked away.
"Yes."
The grandmother did not press further.
Instead, she linked her arm through Elena's.
"Come. I will show you the garden. Then you may return to your frightening spreadsheets."
They walked through the conservatory and into a small courtyard, where white roses grew beneath an old stone fountain.
For a few minutes, Elena forgot the fake relationship, the suspicious transfers, and the powerful men whose decisions might have placed her in danger.
She simply listened to an elderly woman talk about flowers, family traditions, and a young Sebastian who had once hidden a litter of stray kittens in the estate's laundry room because his father had forbidden him to keep animals.
"He named them after members of the cabinet," Viviana explained. "The prime minister was the smallest."
Elena burst out laughing.
"I cannot imagine Sebastian doing that."
"That is because you have only met the version of him that frightens boardrooms."
Viviana stopped beside the fountain.
"Promise me something."
"What?"
"If this arrangement becomes painful, confusing, or unsafe, you will not stay simply because you feel responsible for him."
Elena looked at her in surprise.
"You're encouraging me to leave?"
"I'm encouraging you to remember that affection is not a debt."
The words struck Elena more deeply than she expected.
Her father had spent years trying to rescue people from financial disaster. When his business collapsed, he became consumed by shame, and Elena had spent much of her young adulthood believing she needed to repair every problem he had left behind.
She had become an accountant partly because numbers seemed more honest than promises.
She had learned to distrust anything that sounded too good to be true.
Perhaps that was why Sebastian unsettled her.
He was powerful enough to solve many of her problems, yet he seemed determined not to solve them for her without permission.
Elena looked at Viviana.
"I promise."
The grandmother nodded.
"Good. Now let us return before Isabella decides we have eloped."
When they entered the dining room again, Sebastian stood near the fireplace, speaking with Luca.
He looked up immediately.
"Everything all right?"
"Perfectly," Viviana replied. "Your grandmother has excellent manners, and your mother makes wonderful coffee."
Sebastian studied Elena.
"Did she show you the ring?"
Elena's jaw dropped.
"You knew about the ring?"
"My grandmother has been showing it to prospective brides since I was twenty-five."
Viviana lifted her chin.
"Only the ones with potential."
Elena covered her face.
Sebastian finally laughed.
A real laugh.
Low, warm, and completely unexpected.
It transformed his expression so thoroughly that Elena found herself looking at him longer than she intended.
Then the phone in Luca's hand vibrated.
His expression changed.
He stepped closer to Sebastian and spoke quietly.
"The Bellanova payment records have been accessed again."
Sebastian's smile vanished.
"By whom?"
"Someone using the late controller's credentials. The login originated inside the foundation's accounting network ten minutes ago."
Elena lowered her hands.
"That isn't possible."
Luca looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because the credentials were disabled after his death. At least, they should have been."
Sebastian turned toward her.
"Can you confirm that?"
"If you give me access to the authentication logs."
He glanced at Luca.
"Make it happen."
Elena reached for her ledger.
The playful atmosphere disappeared.
Someone inside the foundation was still accessing the accounts.
Someone knew she had discovered the duplicate transfers.
And someone had just made a mistake that might finally expose them.
Elena looked at Sebastian.
"I need to see those logs now."
He nodded.
"Then breakfast is over."
Viviana sighed.
"Of course it is. In this family, every good meal ends with a financial scandal."
Elena followed Sebastian toward the office.
As the doors closed behind them, she glanced back once at the grandmother standing beside the table.
Viviana raised her coffee cup in a silent toast.
May you like
Elena had the strange feeling that she had just been welcomed into a family whose secrets were far more complicated than the rumors suggested.
And she suspected that the most dangerous part of her morning had only just begun.
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