Page 70 of My Dark Fairy Tale
I inclined my head but said nothing, as he clearly already knew my name and was trying to set into motion a game of cat and mouse. He would come to understand that I was neither. The symbol of the Romano family had always been a wolf, a reference to Romulus, the founding father of Rome. And wolves did not play games with their enemies or their prey.
“You know, I once met your father,” he continued. “I believe we were questioning him about fraud.”
“Which you were never able to prove,” I reminded him curtly. “Do not speak ill of the dead, Pucci. Whatever our differences, he was still my father.”
Sansone peered at me as if trying to read the truth in my implacable veneer. The history of my falling-out with Aldo Romano was legendary in the right circles, those in the underworld and those in high society. I had refused to take over the business as his only son and so had beencast out. From the ages of twenty-one to twenty-nine, I had not set foot in Tuscany because of the man who ruled it.
It was the only reason I had been able to come home after his death and take over ascapo dei capias seamlessly as I had. Everyone knew I had sworn never to follow my father, and when I moved back to Tuscany, I set up my own wealth management firm instead of taking over as CEO of the Romano Group, leaving it in the capable hands of Tonio and Leo.
It seemed my plausible deniability was coming under scrutiny now.
“And who, may I ask, is the lovely lady?” he had the audacity to ask, peering around my shoulder to smile at her.
I forced myself to stay calm even though I wanted to gouge his eyes out for even daring to look at her.
“Guinevere,” I said, pulling her in close at my side. “May I introduce the deputy director of the police, Signore Pucci.”
“Pleasure,” he said in perfect English, stepping forward to take her hand and bring it just short of his mouth in a facsimile of a kiss. “How did a foreigner come to be on the arm of Signore Romano tonight?”
She cocked her head slightly, considering him with none of her usual cheer. I watched as she managed to look down her nose at the much taller man.
“How does any woman end up on the arm of a man? He wins her favor.”
“Ah, and how did he win yours?” He stepped closer with a plastic smile I wanted to break into pieces.
“By being a perfect gentleman,” she replied smoothly, not realizing her unintentional reference to my nickname, Il Gentiluomo.
Sansone’s smile sharpened. “How wonderful for you both. I had heard from mutual acquaintances that you were prepared to be married to Stefania Burette.”
Guinevere did not shift one inch at his insinuation, and the last vestiges of my defenses against her crumbled like old stone.
“I am not,” I replied coldly.
“Obviously,” Guinevere added, turning to wind her arm through mine and beam up at me. “You promised me a dance, darling. Don’t make me wait any longer?”
I bent to press a kiss to her nose, oddly grateful for her staunch support in the face of the mysterious animosity between Sansone and me. The faith she had in me was so misplaced but felt like absolution.
“Certo, piccola,” I agreed. “Excuse us, Signore Pucci. I hope you have a pleasant time in my city.”
He nodded, pushing his hands into his pockets as I took Vera to the dance floor and spun her into my arms. I could feel his eyes on us long after I lost sight of him in the crowd and knew with certainty that somehow we had gotten on his radar.
Porca Madonna.
“You seem very angry,” Guinevere said softly, running her fingertips from my shoulder to my neck in a comforting caress. “Who was that arrogant ass?”
My bark of laughter was so loud, it drew attention from the partygoers around us.
Guinevere smiled in triumph at the sound.
“You are the most surprising girl,” I told her as I led us around the black-and-white floor. “I knew you would animate my life in ways I could hardly fathom, but the reality is much better.”
“For a grump, you can be very romantic.”
“I am Italian,” I reminded her.
She hesitated. “I’m sorry he was so rude about your father.”
“Do not be. He was apezzo di merda.”
