Chapter Eleven

Drago threw back his third espresso of the morning, then set it down for Nonna to fill one more time. Even if he hadn’t been up all night working, the games he’d played with Chase kept him too wound up to sleep. It was one thing to outmaneuver in business, but another to screw with a friend’s dreams. She didn’t deserve it. And therein lay the problem. He cared for Chase.

Drumming his fingers on the table, he stared at the bottom of his cup. There must be something he could do to make it up to her.

“Caro, we need to talk.”

“Nonna, not now. I’ve been up all night tracking down Diego. I think we might have found him, but I have a few more phone calls to make.”

Her jeweled hands fluttered in front of her chest. “You think you found him?” Her eyes welled, and she pulled in a shaky breath. “He broke my heart.”

Pushing away from the counter, he embraced her with a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t get your hopes up yet. Even if I have, the process of getting your money back—if we even can—isn’t guaranteed, and won’t be fast. But I know you’re hurting. I’m sorry.”

She nodded.

When had the lines deepened by her eyes and her hair grayed at the temple? She suddenly seemed much older than she had a day ago. Or was he finally seeing her in the glaring light of his own failures?

He closed his own eyes against the truth. His grandmother was only in this mess because he’d been a coward. Too scared of his reflection looking so much like his father’s that he ended up being much worse.

So he’d try to change that. And the first step was saving the inn. Though he wished he didn’t have to keep the truth from Chase to do it. Feeling completely relaxed after having the best sex of his life last night, he’d almost screwed everything up and told her about the real trouble at the inn. Hell, in that moment, he wanted to tell her everything about himself. About what he’d done.

Which meant he’d had to get out of there fast. The hurt and confusion in her eyes had followed him all the way home, but he couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing. Not now. The fact that he even cared about her feelings messed with his whole mission.

Minchia. This was the exact reason emotion didn’t belong in business. It screwed with his agenda, with his determination. And when it came to Nonna, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. She deserved better from him.

“What happened with Diego is in the past,” Nonna said. “All I can do is move forward. But what I’m worried about is you, Drago.”

Now, that got his attention. The last thing his grandmother should be doing was worrying about him. He raised a brow. “Why in the world would you be worried about me?”

Nonna casually studied the rings on each of her fingers. She pointed to one particularly beautiful sapphire set in a wide gold band. “Do you remember the story behind this ring?”

Everyone knew the story behind the ring. Without it, none of them would be there. He dipped his chin. “I do.”

“I was a stubborn chit when I was younger.”

He narrowed his eyes at the “younger” part.

She chuckled. “I am still stubborn, but I like to think I’ve learned a thing or two. Back then, I was determined to rule my little slice of the world, make it mine, make it bend to my will. So much so that I almost missed out on the love of my life.”

The ring had been from his grandfather back when he’d first courted Nonna. She wouldn’t have any of it. From another country and too proud, she’d fought against falling in love with an Italian and having to stay. She’d had plans to go back to the Netherlands and build her life there, but Grandfather had been just as stubborn—and he’d been in love. Nothing more powerful, or so the story goes. Drago thought it all a fanciful bunch of bullshit. It wasn’t love but sheer determination that had made his grandfather successful.

The story was legendary in Ferrara: his grandfather’s family had lived in a different contrada, a different section of the city from Nonna’s. Each contrada took incredible pride in its home, its colors, its unity. And they gathered for great races and a flag-throwing contest in the city center. But Grandfather wore Nonna’s colors in the weeks leading up to the Palio races. It had been unheard of. And almost considered an act of treason.

Nonna twisted the ring around her finger. “When your grandfather showed up at the races for the flag-throwing in my colors, I knew it was over. I’d never find another man who’d be more dedicated to me, to my life. But my stubbornness wasn’t without cost. The town did not appreciate his gesture as I did. It took years before they got over it, but to him, it had all been worth it.”

Drago nodded. “What are you trying to say, Nonna?”

Her dark eyes roamed over his face. “You look so much like him, but you act so much like me.” She sighed.

Shaking his head, he drained the rest of his cup. “I don’t see that as being a bad thing.”

She let her hands drop to her sides. “We shall see.” She studied him a bit longer. “I don’t want you working against the Huntington House opening. Chase doesn’t deserve that. I’ve never met a lovelier young woman.”

He shook his head. “We’ll lose the inn.”

“Nipote, that is on us, on me. Not Chase. You’ve always said yourself when a business fails it’s on the businessman.”

He railed against her words, his own words. This wasn’t just a business, this was history, a way of life, a family. “Exactly, business is business. It’s what I do best.”

“Oh, caro, sabotage is not your best.”

The look in her eyes left him cold. “Nonna.” He tried to form words around the lump in his throat. He wanted to argue against the shame in her words, but he pressed his lips together instead. He had to do this. Why couldn’t she understand?

“You care for her, caro. You’ll regret this.”

Care? A completely inappropriate vision of her looming over him, her breasts hanging above his face, her lips glistening in the low light of the room, and her familiar scent clouding his senses came to mind. His body’s response was swift and fierce, leaving him to shift in his seat. He certainly felt something. But he didn’t want to care. In the end, she had to leave. Caring would only complicate things.

Nonna squeezed his hand. “I have our own opening on track. The catering and the entertainment have been scheduled. The plumbing’s almost finished. It’s beautiful how our stone walls are centuries old but our pipes, the very veins of the inn, are brand-new. It’s a change that means something. Like new life pumping through us.” She held his gaze. “Just as Chase’s arrival has done.”

He dropped his mouth open, but she walked from the kitchen toward the front sitting rooms. He followed close behind because he couldn’t do anything else. He couldn’t stop his plan. The inn would be lost; he’d be lost.

Walking through his home was like walking through a living museum. Two nineteenth-century gilt-varnished silvered grotto armchairs flanked a black marble-top table that boasted a pedestal carved to look like a forest. As a child, he’d hid underneath the table too many times to count, naming all the animals—he couldn’t fit one leg under there now.

“The opening will be intimate, more of a family affair,” Nonna spoke as she entered the sitting room they’d used when visiting with Chase. She stopped to inspect the intricate crown molding under restoration.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, there’s really no other choice, is there? Chase is sparing no expense. Her opening will be impossible to ignore, even by the most loyal of Ferrara.”

Nonna patted his cheek, hope shining from her eyes. “You’ll find Diego, and I’m going to speak with the plumber. Go. Do what you do.”

She walked off, but he could feel her presence long after she’d left the room. Nonna was the only person he’d ever truly loved, but what she asked was impossible. Abandoning his sabotage would ruin her. As for Chase, he had no doubt she’d succeed in life no matter what happened to her grand opening. She didn’t quit in the face of adversity; she didn’t cave under an onslaught of challenges. In fact, she was one of the most business-savvy women he’d ever met. So continuing with his plan wouldn’t hurt her. Not really.

He sank to one of the sofas that sat adjacent to the large arched window, resisting the feeling of panic that was trying to toe its way inside. So far, any breakthrough concerning Diego was rocky at best, the plumbing project had tapped out the last of the inn’s savings, and the opening was a lost cause. Like any vision his grandmother might have involving him and Chase. And that idea that she pumped new life into theirs. He grunted.

Scrolling through his phone, he pulled up her number. Either way, he’d handled his own shit-storm like a dick the night before. The sex had been incredible. Hot and demanding and as soon as it was over, he’d wanted to lose himself in her again. He’d never lost himself in anything other than work, and certainly not in anyone. It was a dangerous and foolish thing to do.

Right now he was simply craving American cuisine. But it wouldn’t last. So he’d get it out of his system while she was here.

Here. That was the sticking point. She’d been in his home, in his space. Now he couldn’t walk through the kitchen without tasting mango, or set the table in the dining room without smelling cocoa butter. He’d watched her charm his grandmother right under his nose. And the charming had been mutual and sincere from both sides.

He clenched his jaw, working through the twisting in his gut. The truth was, Chase deserved so much more than a man like him could ever offer. She didn’t deserve his manipulation. But if he abandoned his sabotage, how the hell was he going to save Nonna?

Cazzo. He’d have to figure out something. Nonna was right. He was better than sabotage, and so was Chase. The Dragon never resorted to games, but he’d been hit with a desperation he’d never known before.

Because he did care. And now it would cost him.

His phone buzzed, yanking him from the unfamiliar turn his thoughts had taken. “Ciao.”

“Mr. De Luca. This is Detective Miglioccio. I think we’ve found Diego.”

Drago’s fist clenched. “Where’s the bastard hiding?”

“Right now we have him marked in Taiwan. He’s been lying low, paying cash, but slipped up over the weekend. It was only a matter of time.”

Drago wanted to smash his fist through Diego’s face, and short of that, he wanted to destroy the little man’s life. If he couldn’t shut down the Huntington, he’d have to shut down Diego and get his grandmother’s money back.

A plan took shape, and he jotted down a few notes. He put a call in to a banker friend, then back to the detective. It was a long shot, but if they played their cards right, they just might be able to make Diego deposit the money right back into Nonna’s own bank account.