Page 72 of Isle of Seduction
“I’d like to apologise for being a dick to you when we were kids. It’s no excuse, but I was… in a bad place. Missing my father, not understanding my mother, thrown in a country I didn’t know. I had to adapt, and you were a convenient scapegoat for all my feelings.”
“That’s some profound shit, cugino,” I whistle, and he sighs, exasperated with my taunts.
I get up and clasp a hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Lisandru, I appreciate it. You’ve been going to therapy, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” he answers, sheepish. “Just because I found the love of my life, doesn’t mean the shit with my parents is dealt with in my head, you know?”
The vulnerable confession collides with the idea of a brute and a bully I’ve kept in my mind when it comes to my cousin.
“Of the both of us, I didn’t think you’d be the one doing the adult thing,” I say, ready to move back to a playful territory.
“Well, I’m older than you, fucker.”
“By barely a year. Don’t force me to hand you your ass in the boxing ring, cugino.”
It’s time to leave our past behind, to rebuild this family we are both a part of. “By the way, you can keep your company. I have no use for it.”
“You really are an asshole, you know that? But Andrea, if we merge as planned, you get a bigger market share and a larger network of brilliant staff. I can stay on as CEO of that branch. We can help each other.”
I nod in agreement.
Our conversation ends in light laughter and shared companionship, a new phase in our relationship opening, all thanks to the women in our lives.
* * *
We’re on day three of our trip to Kalliste and Lana and Giulia are inseparable. I barely see my wife and the only thing preventing me from kidnapping her fine ass and bringing her back home where she belongs is that fucking huge smile on her gorgeous face.
I thought she was feeling homesick until she excitedly explained her plans for Rouge to Lana. The animation with which she’s talking now is hard to miss. She starts to go into details and it’s my clue to leave them to it. Pierce and Nico are together now, looking into hours after hours of footage to find Louis, Giulia’s ex, and Addams’s ex nanny.
Knowing we are spending time and resources to find Giulia’s ex makes me want to punch someone, but apparently, just him being her ex is not a good enough reason to let him die. I’ve been tempted, but I can’t deny my wife anything.
My current mood might not be the best for what I plan to do, but every time my eyes land on Umberto Moretti, I want to acquaint his face with my fists, anyway. Better do it now while no one can stop me. If the man only gets a black eye from me, he should be grateful.
I knock on the door of Giulia’s childhood home, a couple of streets away from the main Moretti mansion. There was no security at the main gate, which tells me all I need to know about Umberto. He’s not important enough to need it. I tense when the door opens and Umberto appears on the threshold.
“Andrea. I was not expecting you.” He isn’t inviting me in, but I don’t give a shit. In normal circumstances, I’d have pushed and entered without it, but for the sake of my wife and my goal here, I grit my teeth.
“I have something to discuss with you. May I come in?”
Begrudgingly, we enter a cosy living room, if not outdated. The first thing that strikes me is how dead it all looks, like no one really lives here. The room is sparsely furnished and neatly organised, with an old leather sofa like they made in the nineties, a glass coffee table in front of it with a half-drunk cup, and a few papers that look like contracts. I doubt Umberto spends a lot of time here.
“I won’t waste your time, Mr. Moretti. I’m here for your wife’s engagement ring.”
Umberto chokes on his own spit and I almost wish he wouldn’t recover. I wait until he does though, annoyance prickling at my skin. The sooner I’m out of here, the better.
“What makes you think I’d give it to you?”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but your daughter doesn’t have a proper ring yet.”
“I don’t know what that has to do with anything. Your marriage isn’t even real.”
“I assure you, it’s very much real,” I answer with a smirk. I take great satisfaction in seeing his cheeks turn red with anger and embarrassment. “Let me ask you something, Mr. Moretti. Do you love your daughter?”
“Of course, I do,” he protests, and I’d almost believe him.
Before he can say anything else, I continue. “Allow me to doubt it, considering I blackmailed her into marrying me and not once did you call to inquire about her safety or bargain that I release her from her contract.”