“Where are they now?” My voice was tight. Controlled. At complete odds with the bloody images of retribution playing out in my mind.

“Ms. Vivian is at the penthouse, and Mr. Luca is at his home in Greenwich Villa.”

My jaw ticked. My brother was like Teflon when it came to life-and-death situations. He once got mugged in L.A., took a nap, and spent the same night partying it up with half of Young Hollywood.

Vivian, on the other hand…

The sick feeling spread, clawing at my insides like it was seeking escape.

“I’ll have the full report in your inbox within the next hour,” Giulio said. “Is there anything else you need from me at this time?”

“The one who held Vivian at gunpoint? Leave him for me.”

Another pause. “Of course.”

I hung up, my earlier exhaustion and hunger hardening into a ball of restless energy.

I really fucking wished there was a boxing ring at the hotel. If I didn’t release the anger choking me, I would implode.

An image of Vivian’s face surfaced in my mind.

Pale skin. Dark eyes wide with fear. Bright red blood staining her clothes.

If backup hadn’t arrived on time…

My gut twisted into a painful knot.

She was safe. Giulio wouldn’t lie about that. But until I saw her myself…

I paced the room and scrubbed a hand over my face. I’d spent the past year putting the Santeri deal together. I couldn’t fuck it up. Plus, I was flying home tomorrow morning anyway. Half a day wouldn’t make a difference.

Vivian was at home. She wasfine.

My pacing continued. The clock ticked toward the quarter of the hour.

Dammit.

A string of curses flew past my lips as I grabbed my jacket with one hand and dialed my assistant with the other on my way out the door.

“There’s an emergency in New York. Call the Santeri team and have them meet me in the hotel conference room in thirty minutes. Tell them the rest of their stay is on the Russo Group and send Franco the limited-edition Lohman & Sons watch as an apology. The one that’s not coming out until next year.”

The CEO of Santeri Wines was a notorious horophile who collected forty-thousand-dollar timepieces the way kids collected baseball cards.

Helena didn’t miss a beat. “Consider it done.”

Franco had an ego bigger than his Napa Valley ranch. He was pissed about the last-minute summons, as expected, but the apology gifts mollified him enough for him to sign the acquisition deal without much complaint.

Santeri Wines, one of the most valuable wine brands on the market, was officially a Russo Group subsidiary.

Instead of celebrating, I said my goodbyes and cut a straight path from the conference room to the car waiting outside.

“Where to, sir?” the driver asked.

“SFO.” San Francisco Airport. I’d left without my luggage, but Helena would take care of that for me. “I need to return to New York immediately.”

VIVIAN

I couldn’t stop shivering.


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