“Of course.” I incline my head lightly in her direction. “I’d be honored.”
“My father wants to meet you, as well.” She casts that pretty smile in my direction again. “He asked me to bring you to him, if I saw you. And here you are! It was very easy, actually. Will you come with me?”
As if I actually have a choice.“Of course,” I repeat, in that same lightly neutral tone, and follow Adriana through the sparkling room to a door on the far left.
It opens into a dimly lit hallway, and she gestures. “Just down the hall and to the right. His security is outside, give them your name, and they’ll let you in.”
It seems the Casciani patriarch has a flair for the dramatic.
As I recall, however, they all do. Men like Luca and Viktor and Connor and Liam, all second-generation born heirs, having grown up in the States with more modern ideas and business practices and homes, are, in my experience, satisfied with offices that reflect an urban billionaire’s taste instead of this old world posturing. But I remember my father having been the same, a man who thrilled at receiving guests in his grand office, presiding over matters of business from behind the formidable desk with the views of his verdant estate behind him.
Casciani seems to prefer a more threatening aesthetic. The hallway is dark, wainscoted with heavy wood and deep-toned wallpaper. At the end of the right-hand turn, just as Adriana had said, three black-garbed security guards are waiting.
They snap to attention the moment they see me, hands twitching to where I know their weapons are hidden. “The gala is back that way,” one of them growls, gesturing the way I came, and I nod carefully, making sure to keep my hands in plain sight.
“I’m here to see Don Casciani,” I say carefully, raising my voice enough for it to carry. “His daughter directed me this way. Tell him that Maximilian Agosti is here to see him, please.”
I’m rewarded with narrowed eyes and suspicious looks, but one of the black-garbed men nods to one of the others.
“Go tell the don,” he grunts and holds out a hand toward me. “You. Wait there.”
The door opens a fraction, enough for the guard to step inside, and I hover there in the hallway, careful not to make any movement that might spook the over-cautious guards. It’s clear they take their jobsveryseriously, and I have no interest in ending tonight with a bullet in one of the soft parts of me.
After a few minutes, the guard reappears. “Go on in,” he says, jerking his head towards me and then the door, which he pushes open a little wider. “The don is expecting you.”
I could have guessed as much,I think to myself, but I don’t say it. “Thank you,” I tell him instead, offering a cool smile as I step past him and into the office.
It’s well-lit, revealing a study much like my father’s, all heavy woods and thick textiles, old books and art covering most of the surfaces, with the centerpiece an imposing wooden desk and behind it a man who appears equally imposing. His iron-grey hair is combed carefully back, his thick beard trimmed short, and he’s wearing a deep charcoal suit that fits him expertly despite his considerable size.
“Maximilian Agosti.” Don Casciani gestures to one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Please, sit. It’s a surprise to find you here–and it was equally a surprise to hear your request for an invitation tonight.”
“I’m sure you’re aware of what the past several years have held for my family,” I say evenly, sinking into the chair. “So it shouldn’t have come as so much of a surprise.”
“You mean your brother’s death and you leaving the priesthood?” Casciani shrugs. “Last I heard, you were hiding out in some Russian’s household with no intent of coming back intoourfold. I’m curious to hear what would have changed your mind. Is it that upstart brother of yours, sniffing around to claim what’s left of the Agosti scraps?”
“There’s a great deal more left of our family than scraps,” I say tersely. “There are many reasons why I’ve decided to do as my father would have wished, and step into the vacancy left by Antoni’s death. You’re correct in that I have existed for some time under the protection of Viktor Andreyev. Now there is someone in need ofmyprotection, and I intend to do what’s necessary to make that happen.”
“Andreyev.” Casciani considers. “A powerful friend. But not one of us. And not here, in the old country. So you need allieshere, is what I’m hearing from you, Agosti. For the protection of someone?” He frowns, steepling his fingers. “It’s interesting that after being gone for so long, you come in asking for favors already.
I sit up straighter in my seat, keeping my posture squared as I look evenly at him across the desk. “I come in here expecting that you will remember the long history and loyalty between our families. If my father had chosen to extend his protection to someone, the Casciani family would have stood with him without question. I am expecting that you will recognize me as the heir to my father’s name and alliances and consider what I am suggesting accordingly.”
“Who is it that you are protecting?” Casciani purses his lips. “What family am I choosing to stand against, if I remember my friendship with your father, as you are suggesting?”
“The daughter of Konstantin Obelensky,” I tell him bluntly. I remember one thing at least about my father’s dealings with men like this, and I know very well that beating around the bush will earn me nothing. “His illegitimate daughter. Her existence threatens his power structure and alliances, and he wants her dead.”
Casciani narrows his eyes. “And this woman is–”
“Someone that Andreyev owes a debt to. I have chosen to assist him in that.”
“Hm.” Don Casciani leans back in his seat. “You know, Agosti, I heard that you had come back. I chose to wait to see if you would reach out to me, and you did–to see if you would choose your father’s path, and you have. I have yet to see if you are the same sort of man that your father and brother were, but I have hopes for you. But you must know that if you wish to step into the role that Antoni left open, there are certain–methods of re-establishing our alliance that you may wish to consider.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the fact that I’ve been waiting for the right time to choose a fiance for my daughter, Adriana.” He smiles thinly. “You’ve met her, since you’re here sitting in front of me. Very lovely, isn’t she?”
“She is.” I raise an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting–”
“An arrangement between the two of you? It would be prudent, don’t you think? The great Agosti house rises again. You regain the influence and power that your father enjoyed, the rest of the Families behind you once I assert that the Casciani house stands with you, and my daughter shares in that and your considerable wealth.”