Page 35 of His Prize

I scoffed. “Are you even listening?”

He blinked. “Charity event. Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t want this family just to be known for the shit they pull.”

“So, you want to be known for helping sick kids or establishing your own vanity charity?”

“It wouldn’t be a vanity charity.”

He shook his head. “There’s too much paperwork involved in that. Besides, the police would be all over you the second you tried to instate it. They’d think it was some sort of cover shell corporation or something.”

At least he’s paying attention now.

“So, no donating to the kids and no charity of my own. What do you suggest, then?”

He crossed his leg over his knee. “Not having a charity event.”

“And why not?”

“Because I don’t think people are going to feel safe at a function like that with the Moretti family name plastered all over it.”

“Well, I want to change this family’s reputation a bit. That’s the whole point.”

“Then, why don’t you start with the businesses your uncle already snatched up?”

I paused. “I’m not following.”

He leaned forward. “Host a charity drive, don’t slap your family’s name on it, and use the proceeds to donate to the businesses your uncle has already bled dry. Mend your relationships with them first.”

“That’s… actually not a bad idea.”

“You get your charity work, you can raise more money that way, and you still keep that money in the family, so to speak. It’s a win-win for all involved.”

I reached for the desk phone. “Can you give me fifteen more minutes? I have a short phone call to make.”

He stood. “I’ll wait just outside the door. Unless you’d like me to stay?”

I grinned. “Rival families still, remember? I need some privacy for this phone call.”

He chuckled. “It was worth a shot.”

And as I watched him make his way out of the study, a thought crossed my mind. A thought so crazy and so fleeting and so out there that it made me smile brightly.

For a brief moment, I wondered if our families would ever consider a merge.

14

Israel

I kept stealingglances over at Bonnie as we drove over to the vacation home. My father had been gracious enough to allow us to reside in one of the vacant waterfront houses he furnished and rented out. One of the many things my family had their hands in was Chicago real estate, and every time a new waterfront property came on the market, my father snatched it up as quickly as he could.

He still ran the head of that division, even though he had passed his position in the family down to me. And while the furnishings in the place weren’t quite my taste, it had been a comforting place to be ever since my penthouse went up in flames.

But, when Bonnie and I got back to the house, none of my keys worked in the locks.

“Here, try my keys,” she said.

I shoved mine into my pocket and tried hers. However, none of those worked. I sighed. “Hold on. Let me call Dad.”

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