Chapter 2 - The Boss's Impossible Question
By noon, the entire Leone estate knew the wedding was canceled.
By two, three rival families knew.
By four, the city knew.
By sunset, every gossip outlet that covered the wealthy had a theory.
Some said Casius Leone had gone insane.
Others said Gemma Rizzo had betrayed him.
One particularly creative reporter claimed the Leone family had discovered a secret pregnancy.
I was sitting in Casius's office when his security chief showed me the headlines.
“He's not bothered,” Dante Bellini said.
I looked through the glass wall toward Casius.
“He doesn't seem bothered by anything.”
Dante chuckled.
“You've known him for four years.”
“Exactly.”
“And you still think he feels nothing?”
“I think he hides everything.”
Dante's smile disappeared.
“That answer might keep you alive.”
I looked at him.
“Why are you saying that?”
“Because people usually realize too late that Casius is not cold.”
“What is he, then?”
“Controlled.”
I didn't know why that word stayed with me.
Casius called me into his office ten minutes later.
There was a folder on his desk.
“Sit.”
I did.
He opened the folder.
Inside were photographs.
My apartment.
My childhood school.
My father's old house.
The bakery where I bought coffee.
I stared.
“Are you spying on me?”
“I have been protecting you.”
“From what?”
“People who want to know why a Leone assistant has been receiving confidential information from three of my competitors.”
I stared at him.
“I haven't.”
“That's why this is interesting.”
He slid another page toward me.
A bank statement.
My name.
Twenty thousand dollars deposited into my account six months earlier.
I had never seen it.
“That's not mine.”
“I know.”
“Then why is my name on it?”
“Because someone wanted it there.”
I looked at him.
“Are you accusing me?”
“No.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“The truth.”
“I don't know what truth you're talking about.”
He leaned back.
“Your father.”
My stomach dropped.
“My father died when I was eighteen.”
“I know.”
“He was a bookkeeper.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you asking about him?”
“Because his name appears in my grandfather's private ledger.”
I went silent.
Casius watched me carefully.
“Did your father ever work for the Leone family?”
“No.”
“Think.”
“I don't have to think. He never did.”
“Did he ever mention Victoria Leone?”
I stared.
“No.”
“Did he ever mention a man named Marco Bellandi?”
The name meant nothing.
I shook my head.
Casius closed the folder.
“You're lying.”
“I'm not.”
“Then someone lied to both of us.”
That afternoon, Mrs. Bellini asked me to bring a box from the old archives.
I found it in a locked storage room beneath the west wing.
Inside were old family photographs.
Contracts.
Letters.
Newspaper clippings.
And one photograph of Victoria Leone standing beside a young man I had never seen.
I turned it over.
On the back was written:
Victoria and Enzo, 1984.
Enzo.
My father's name had been Antonio Rizzo.
I took the photograph upstairs.
Casius looked at it and went completely still.
“Where did you find this?”
“The archive.”
He took it.
His thumb brushed the picture.
“Enzo Rizzo.”
“Your mother knew my father?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“That seems impossible.”
“Not in my family.”
He opened a drawer.
There was a second photograph.
Victoria.
Enzo.
A man who looked remarkably like Casius.
His father.
The three of them stood outside a warehouse.
Casius stared at it.
“My father told me my mother never worked.”
“She was lying.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“She was hiding something.”
That night, someone attacked the estate.
The first gunshot broke a window in the east hall.
Security reacted immediately.
Casius pushed me down.
“Stay here.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Another shot struck the wall.
“That's not nothing.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind a stone column.
Dante shouted orders.
Men moved through the halls.
Then silence.
Five minutes later, the attackers were gone.
Casius turned toward me.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He touched my face.
A tiny cut near my cheek.
His expression changed.
“Who did this?”
I shook my head.
“You're bleeding.”
“I've had worse.”
He stared.
“Where?”
I regretted the answer immediately.
“Growing up.”
His hand dropped.
The next morning, he discovered the attack had come from a private security company.
The company had been hired by a Rizzo-owned holding firm.
Gemma's family.
Casius's jaw tightened.
“This is why I canceled the wedding.”
I stared.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Then why let it continue?”
“Because I wanted to identify who was behind it.”
“And now?”
“Now they know I know.”
I looked toward the windows.
“What happens to Gemma?”
“She leaves the country.”
“Is she in danger?”
“She knew more than she admitted.”
I was silent.
Then Casius asked a question that changed everything.
“Nadia, would you trust me?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
I blinked.
“Why?”
“Because I need you suspicious.”
He walked to the safe.
“Everyone around me has either wanted my money, my name, or my death.”
He looked at me.
“You are the first person who seems to want nothing.”
I laughed softly.
“I want a raise.”
His mouth twitched.
“Done.”
“That easy?”
“No.”
He came closer.
“You will become my personal assistant.”
“I already am.”
“No.”
His eyes held mine.
“You will become the person closest to me.”
I stared at him.
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It means when people ask who you are, they will hear my name before yours.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then I will double your salary and assign you a security detail.”
I stared.
“That's your idea of letting me say no?”
May you like
He smiled.
“You're learning.”
