Page 52 of Masked Hearts

“My brother?” I raise a brow. “How much control do you think we have?”

“Enough. Augustus is helping plan this year’s dinner.”

Fuck.I forgot about his bet with Ambrose to help this year.

“I’ll see what I can do. As for my contacts, I can’t guarantee that they’ll be in attendance, they’re very busy,” I grumble out, allowing my attention to fall on Theresa again, who is still reading on her phone. Because of the lighting, I can’t see what exactly it is, but it gets my dick hard to think that maybe she’s reading her little spicy books right next to me.

“I’m sure you’ll do your best to ensure they’re there.” Gabriel’s threat ghosts past my ears as chatter from above distracts me from trying to get a better look at her phone screen. I glance up to see my favourite Auclair sibling arrive with four older men in tow.

I’m used to sitting in meetings with men years my senior, but it never gets better. It’s always the same ass-kissing, bullshit, pissing contest. Who’s got more money? Who’s got more connections? Who can help us get even more? Right now, I’m the most sought-after connection at this table.

I straighten my posture and eye the men as they greet Gabriel. In the end, a connection works both ways, and I’m sure even Vitale Holdings could do with some new intel in France, no matter how we manage to get it.

“And this is my daughter, Theresa, and her husband, Antonio Vitale.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Vitale,” the man first in line says. As his words register in the air, I realise for the first time that Theresa’s surname is officially Vitale. Something about that image makes my dick twitch, and I curse under my breath.

I rise to shake their hands. “Please, call me Antonio. My brother is the only one who goes by Mr. Vitale.”

“I’m Lucien, and these are my associates Adrien, Mathis, and Horatio, who I hear you’ve met before,” the man says. His dramatic moustache wriggles as he smiles

“I have, yes, good to see you again, Horatio; it is a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen.” I smile before taking my seat and draping my arm around Theresa again. She, once again, relaxes into my side, but doesn’t remove her attention from the phone until a new waiter returns with only her drink. I glance up at him and find his gaze immediately resting on her slightly exposed cleavage.

Motherfucker.

I let my hand slip off the back of her chair and onto her shoulder, where my fingers gently start grazing along her collarbone.

The waiter’s eyes shoot to mine, and I glare at him. “I suggest you stop staring at my wife, and make yourself useful by bringing me my whiskey and taking our guest’s orders.”

It was intended to be a more silent threat, but when the table falls silent at my words, I know they’ve all heard it.

He nods quickly and turns to Kylian, sitting directly opposite us, to take his order.

“What are you doing?” Theá whispers to me, eyes ablaze and cheeks slightly darker.

“Making sure everyone at this table, including the waiter, knows that gawking at my wife isn’t acceptable.” I offer her my fakest smile before shifting my focus back to the table.

It takes her a few minutes, but soon enough, she relaxes into me again, only shifting to get a sip of her drink.

I allow my eyes to rake around the table and immediately start noticing the kind of money I’m surrounded by. Even at their age, their appearances scream new money or at least a very young stylist. The only person I know who still dresses in brightly coloured or patterned suits is Augustus. Even Gabriel and Kylian generally always stick with white or cream tones.

The new men all dawn variations of red. Either in a plain, check, or stripe pattern with their gold and diamond accessories on display. They don’t whisper wealth the way I’m used to, where even my underwear probably costs more than their rings, but rather, they scream it as if they have something to prove.

Another man arrives at our table, pulling out the only remaining unoccupied seat right between Kylian and Gabriel. My entire body stiffens as I let my eyes meet his, ice immediately running through my veins.

“Enzo, so glad you could make it,” Gabriel says, and I can hear the smugness in his tone. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce one of my newest partners, Lorenzo Vitale.”

“Please, call me Enzo.” He flashes his rarely-seen smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Enzo smile anytime in the last two years since the news broke that Ambrose would be taking over as CEO, completely undercutting both of us.

“Vitale?” Lucien asks. “Are you two related?”

“Oh yes, cousins. Antonio and I are practically inseparable.” He smirks over at me, begging me to disagree with him, and I’m tempted to until Lucien changes the direction of the conversation completely.

“So Antonio, I heard you’re the CFO of Vitale Holdings. How have things been since the insurance scandal last year?” Lucien asks as soon as our asshole waiter leaves with their order. My eyes lift to Enzo, and he’s lounging back in his chair as if he isn’t the entire reason for the scandal in the first place.

I allow the question to hang in the air a bit, and I wonder how to answer. If it were a client, I would immediately head into reassurance mode, but I don’t know this man’s true intentions behind his questions. So, I give him the most generic answer I can.

“They were difficult, but things are looking up.”

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