‘You think Tristan Falco isn’t going to jump at the chance to gatecrash that party?’
Dani frowned, knowing her friend was right.
‘You want to put Marchesi in his place, don’t you?’ Hermione waggled her brows. ‘Time for you to introduce the ace up your sleeve. Show him that you’re not playing nice. You make the call—I’ll go and assemble my wonder team. That man has no idea who he’s messing with.’
Hermione dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and breezed away, leaving Dani staring down at her phone, which was still open on the guest list.
She walked to the railing of the restaurant’s terrace, looking out at the pink and orange clouds painted along the sky... The sun would sta
rt setting soon—she didn’t have the luxury of waiting around. If she was going to put up a fight, she had to go to this event. Tomorrow she would come up with a new angle and figure out how to save Nettuno from being sold off. As for tonight...
She opened her phone and scrolled down to the name of a man she had never thought she would call again. A smile touched the corner of her lips as the number rang and a deep male voice answered. Within moments she had confirmed her scandalous date for the evening, silently marvelling at Hermione’s evil genius.
It seemed that Cinderella would attend the ball after all, but she would not be waving the proverbial white flag and dancing with Prince Charming.
Tonight she would make Valerio Marchesi realise just how wrong he had been to underestimate her.
The paparazzi were gathered eagerly around the gates of Valerio’s luxurious Monte Carlo villa, waiting for the first public photograph of the Playboy Pirate’s return and an exclusive opportunity to see what had become of their tragic hero.
Valerio had planned to give them their show—to depart in his usual extravagant style, driving one of his prized sports cars. But at the last moment he had chosen to have his bodyguard drive one of the Jeeps, instructing him to exit the rear gate so that he could slip past the cameras.
He had told himself that he was adding to the mystery—that he was playing up to the media circus and fanning the flames of gossip. It was all good publicity, after all. He was building up to a grand return on his own terms. But the reality was that he had stopped himself from booking the first flight out of Monaco at least three times since walking off the yacht into the dawn light that morning. If it hadn’t been for the threat to Dani, he’d have gone. But he knew he had to be here—knew he had to ensure her complete safety.
He had stood in the marina, looking up at the now unfamiliar city that had once been one of his many playgrounds, and he had felt like an impostor. He was playing the part of Valerio Marchesi, but he had no interest in that life any more.
It all seemed so hollow now, as he looked back at the way he had lived. He had gone from one extreme to the next, proving himself in daring sailing challenges, throwing the wildest parties and seducing the most beautiful women. Life had just been one big adventure after another, with nothing ever big enough to satiate his appetite for more. Until everything had suddenly become tasteless and the thought of sailing or seducing had seemed just a waste of energy better spent on his investigations.
His old life seemed like a distant memory—like the life of a stranger. But if he was no longer that version of himself...he had no idea who he was...
When he arrived at the party, his first priority was to ensure that Velamar’s private marina was securely locked down. The elite security team he had hired six months ago had been expertly trained by the best in the business and they knew exactly where they needed to be. He stepped onto the main entertaining deck of the massive yacht to see that some of the guests had already arrived. A small swing band had set up on a small platform, and the intrusive bouncing melody of the music provided a perfect background for a night that would likely be filled with uncomfortable conversations and questions about his time away.
For the first time in months he wished he could down a few drinks as he was approached by several acquaintances all at once. But he’d long ago learned that drinking only made him feel worse. He needed to be in control of his senses, of his mind.
The party filled out quickly, and soon enough the entire room was watching him, the curiosity in their gazes mixed with the familiar sympathy he’d come to expect in the days immediately after his rescue. Hushed conversations began, ensuring that anyone who was not aware of the events that had put the scars on Valerio Marchesi’s face and the growling darkness in his eyes was soon informed.
He had never lacked confidence about his looks—he knew that even despite the minor scarring and his leg injury he was still attractive enough. Some women would probably find it thrilling, seeing such a dramatic reminder of his fight for survival. They would build it into the fantasy of him as a rugged adventurer, like in the stories the media had loved to spread. But having so many eyes on him was a stark reminder of everything he would never outrun.
He would always be the scarred hero to them—someone both to pity and admire. None of them knew the truth of what had happened. None of them had lived through it.
But now was not the time to show weakness—not when he had important work to do. Being born a Marchesi meant he had been introduced to instant fame and pressure even before he could walk. He had chosen a different path from the family business, but he still used the lessons he had learned from his father every day. When you feel weak, walk tall and look them in the eye. So he met each set of curious eyes without hesitation, ignoring any mention of his absence and filling each conversation with talk of the latest yacht they planned to launch.
‘Ah, here comes Daniela.’ One of the members of the Velamar board craned her neck to look past him. ‘Good grief—is that Tristan Falco on her arm?’
Every set of eyes in the small group around him snapped towards the steps at the opposite end of the long entertaining deck.
She wouldn’t... Surely she would have the sense not to...
After seeing a series of nervous furtive glances towards him, Valerio gritted his jaw and turned to see for himself.
CHAPTER THREE
TIME SEEMED TO come to a standstill as his eyes sought Dani across the crowd. She was shaking hands with one of the politicians he’d invited, the wide smile on her ruby-red lips a world away from the indignant anger he’d last seen on her face.
He was powerless to look away, and the tightness inside his chest loosened as he watched her tilt her head back and laugh. She didn’t even have to try to be the perfect hostess—it just came naturally.
As he looked on, the crowd tightened and gathered around her, vying for her attention. And even if he hadn’t already been treading a fine line with his control, seeing Tristan Falco by her side had him fighting the insane urge to growl.
There wasn’t a single person on this yacht who didn’t know of his long-standing rivalry with the heir to the Falco diamond fortune. He shook his head, biting his lower lip to stop himself from laughing at such a deliberate power-play. Clever, infuriating woman. For some reason she was trying to provoke him...