Wedded, Bedded, Betrayed. Michelle SmartЧитать онлайн книгу.
the subtlety of a trio of strutting peacocks, she still, as an adult, kept in the background. Media sightings of her were slim and those that existed were all business related.
One particular broadsheet interview with Ignazio had caught his attention. It had been conducted four years ago, when Gabriele’s father had first been charged. Ignazio had slated Alfredo and spoken eloquently about how ‘duped’ he felt. The only sincere words Gabriele had sensed from the man had been about his daughter:
‘Elena is the hardest worker of my staff and the best child a man could hope for. I know when I become infirm, she will be there to care for me.’
He allowed himself a smile.
Gabriele’s visit to the Ricci chapel might not have provided the evidence to clear his name he so badly wanted but in Elena he had found a silver lining. He’d found a weapon that could hurt Ignazio much more than merely sending him to prison.
Oh, yes, as a weapon to hurt Ignazio, he had found none better.
But then his smile dropped.
There would be nothing to celebrate until he found the evidence that cleared his father’s name—and his own—and would allow his mother whatever peace she was capable of finding.
‘I should tell you that your presence here has presented me with something of a dilemma,’ he said.
Her brows drew together, her startling green eyes holding his. ‘What kind of dilemma?’
‘You have provided me with options I hadn’t considered before.’ Seeing Esmerelda returning to them, he left it at that.
Elena’s caffè e latte, a large fresh pot of coffee and a plate of pastries were placed between them, and Gabriele’s coffee poured.
‘Please, eat,’ he instructed with a wave of a hand, as Esmerelda disappeared back inside.
‘Tell me why I’m a dilemma.’
‘I would prefer to have this conversation without worrying you’re going to fall into another faint due to hunger.’
‘I’ve never fainted before,’ she stated matter-of-factly. ‘It was the shock and adrenaline of everything, that’s all. I’ve never been kidnapped before and then rescued, then chased, then thrown over a shoulder to a jet ski with live ammunition being fired at me.’
‘Why did you run from me?’ he asked curiously.
‘Because you have a grudge against my father and hate my family. You appeared in the room like a dark phantom—I was scared.’
‘I don’t hold a grudge against your father,’ he denied calmly. ‘My loathing towards all you Riccis is much stronger than that.’
Her pretty, lightly golden face paled. ‘Then why did you rescue me?’
‘Because I’m not such a monster that I would leave you at the mercy of those men.’
A tiny, shaking hand took a cornetto. Instead of biting into it, she put it on the plate before her, then took a sip of her caffè e latte.
‘I don’t understand why you hate us all so much.’
‘Really?’ He allowed his disbelief to ring through the syllables. Elena was a child of Ignazio’s loins. She worked closely with him. Gabriele doubted there was anything about Ignazio’s business practices she was unaware of. She was as guilty as he. ‘Then let me educate you.’
At the foot of the table sat his briefcase. He pulled it onto his lap, opened it, and took out a document file.
‘I went to Nutmeg Island last night searching for evidence of your father’s criminality. These are a few of the documents I copied from the basement of your family chapel last night. As you can see, I’ve had them printed off to make digesting them easier. These are irrefutable proof that Ricci Components is laundering money from its Brazilian base.’
‘You’re lying.’ She bit into her cornetto. A small dollop of raspberry jam dripped down her chin. She wiped it away with a finger and licked it, all the while staring at him with eyes that had hardened.
‘Read them for yourself,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘The proof is there. The US authorities will find it indisputable.’
Something flickered in her eyes.
‘Your father’s been running his business from Brazil for well over a decade. However, the accounts concerned use US dollars. That gives the US a jurisdictional right to launch an investigation. Trust me, should I give them these documents, they will be on your father and the rest of you like a pack of hyenas on a fresh carcass. Why do you think I spent only two years of a six-year sentence behind bars? They know your father’s up to his neck in corruption but, until now, they’ve not had the evidence to charge him with anything.’
She swallowed her food and swiped a hand through her fringe, then snatched the file from him. Sipping her caffè e latte, she began reading through the papers.
Gabriele watched her closely. Her green eyes zoomed from left to right and back again, a concentration frown just noticeable beneath her fringe.
In the years since he’d last seen her, she’d gained a doll-like prettiness about her that, combined with her rather grubby appearance and boyish clothes, had the effect of making her appear younger than her twenty-five years. He had to remind himself that there was nothing doll-like or immature about her spine. She’d proved her tenacity last night: she’d had an escape route planned despite the terror that would have frozen any other person’s brain, and not only had she run away from him but, when realising she couldn’t outrun him, had fought back. If his own reflexes weren’t so quick she would likely have escaped him.
But she would never have escaped the men. They would never have let her go. They couldn’t have afforded to, not once she had seen her captor’s face.
Whatever direction this conversation took, he could not afford to let those big green eyes beguile him into thinking she was something less than she truly was.
‘Whoever created these documents is clearly a master forger,’ she said tightly when she’d finished reading.
‘Don’t fool yourself. They’re not forgeries. I took the pictures myself last night, in your chapel basement.’
‘Which you broke into.’ Her eyes narrowed, more suspicion and distrust ringing from them. ‘Were you in league with those men?’
‘No.’
‘So it’s coincidence you were there at the exact same time an armed gang raided our holiday island?’
‘No coincidence at all.’ He gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘I knew they would be making their heist. I’ve waited a year for it.’
She stared at him with a clenched jaw.
He allowed himself a smile. ‘The thing you have to understand about prison is that it’s full of criminals. Not all prisoners are discreet. One liked to brag about how his brother was a member of Carter’s gang. Have you heard of Carter?’
She shook her head.
‘Carter steals to order. His price tag for a job is reputed to be ten million dollars.’
She let out a low whistle.
‘He also does jobs for himself—heists where he knows illegal artefacts are kept. The kind of stuff no owner would dare report stolen to the police.’ Gabriele rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. ‘It was a simple matter to tell my fellow prisoner of the island off the Cayman Isles packed full of illegal art worth tens of millions of dollars.’
‘That’s a lie,’ she snapped, finally showing some animation.
He shrugged. ‘Carter didn’t believe it to be a lie and he does meticulous research. I knew it was only a matter of time before word reached him. I’ve been keeping close tabs on him and waiting for his gang to make