Marco chuckled. "This is Cassandra, Enzo. Very skilled, this one. I met her at a conference in Milan last month, she was consulting for the Mariottis on their expansion into Eastern Europe. She's a very brilliant strategist." He clapped her shoulder like they were old friends. "I figured she would be perfect as your new business consultant. God knows you could use someone competent around here."
Lorenzo was still stunned, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air before he finally shook hers. Her grip was firm, confident. "Oh. Yes. Of course. Yes. Hmm."
Wow Enzo. Rendered speechless by a woman. Smooth.
Marco's smirk widened. He grabbed Lorenzo's arm, pulling him aside while Cassandra politely pretended to examine the bookshelf. "Cousin," Marco whispered, barely containing his amusement. "Why are you glitching?"
"Glitching? I don't know what you're talking about," Lorenzo hissed back, straightening his tie.
"Don't bother trying to lie to me. I can see your brain malfunctioning. She's a very beautiful woman, isn't she?"
Lorenzo said nothing, his jaw tightening.
Marco sighed, his voice dropping lower. "Enzo, listen. In this.….line of work, we tend to get lonely. The life we live, the things we do, it isolates us." He glanced at Cassandra, then back at Lorenzo. "And for you, who has still refused to bed any woman—"
Lorenzo immediately stiffened, his eyes flashing. "Not this again. Why must I sleep with someone? Can I not just choose to be alone?"
Marco rolled his eyes. "Cousin, we are men. We get lonely, and have needs. You are twenty-eight. I'm twenty-four and have more experience than you do."
"You know my reasons," Lorenzo said coldly.
"Indeed I do." Marco's expression softened. "But still.….clearly you've been hooked by Cassandra. Maybe she'll break through those walls you've built."
"Hmm. I really doubt it."
He didn't want any female attachments. Enzo was a deeply sensitive and emotional child once, very soft, very open. He had just learned to hide it. He had seen how easily things could be taken away. People he loved. His mother. Giovanni. His father had gone near mad when their mother died, a shell of the man he once was.
Lorenzo called it being reasonable and logical. But deep down, he knew he just didn't want to be hurt.
Marco sighed. "Oh well. I'll leave you to it." He straightened, raising his voice. "Perhaps I'll stop by your house later? We have much to catch up on."
"Wait," Lorenzo grabbed his arm, leaning in close. "Didn't your father tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
Lorenzo lowered his voice. "I saw La Morte last week at The Crimson Gala."
Marco froze, his entire body going rigid. "What? Where? How? Did she kill someone?"
Lorenzo quickly recounted the Crimson Gala, the shot, the rooftop chase, the fight. He left out the part about her knowing he was Zayn. That secret was too dangerous to share, even with Marco.
"That is terrifying," Marco breathed, running a hand through his hair. "She was that close to you? That woman gives me the chills."
Lorenzo gritted his teeth, his hand unconsciously going to his pocket where the ring still sat. He also left that out. No one needed to know about it. "She is indeed terrifying, I must admit."
"Enzo." Marco gripped his shoulder. "Take it easy, hmm? La Morte is dangerous, but you are still alive. That counts for something."
"Barely."
Marco gave him a look, then turned toward Cassandra with a bright smile. "Ms. Bertellini, I'll leave you in my cousin's capable hands. He'll get you settled."
"Thank you, Marco," Cassandra said warmly.
As Marco left, Lorenzo turned back to find Cassandra watching him with her piercing eyes.
"So, Mr. De Luca," she said, setting her portfolio on his desk. "Where would you like me to start?"
Lorenzo opened his mouth. Closed it. Reached for a pen and knocked over his coffee mug instead.
"For goodne—" He lunged for it, but Cassandra was faster, catching it mid-fall.
She set it upright, her lips twitching with amusement. "Are you alright, Mr De Luca?" She queried, and Enzo realized she was trying to suppress laughter.
On any other occasion, he would have immediately fired anyone who dared laugh or mock him. But here he was, letting a woman he just met smirk at his clumsiness.
Focus, Lorenzo. Focus. You can not allow a mere woman to distract you.
Mere woman….well, this woman was…
Shut up.
"Thank you," he said quietly as she handed him a napkin.
Cassandra's smile widened, and for just a moment, he swore he saw something playful flicker in her eyes.
Something dangerously familiar.
Wait….
Hmm no.
La Morte had gray eyes.
Unless she wore contacts…..
No. He was being paranoid. La Morte had unraveled him so thoroughly that now he was seeing her in every beautiful woman who crossed his path.
Besides, she wouldn't do something as reckless as trying to work for him. She was smart.
Get it together, Lorenzo.
He cleared his throat, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "Please, sit."
Cassandra settled into the chair, crossing one leg over the other. She opened her portfolio, pulling out a sleek folder. "I have prepared a preliminary analysis of De Luca Enterprises' current market position and some strategic recommendations for—"
"Before we get into that," Lorenzo interrupted, leaning back in his chair. He needed to regain control of this situation. "Tell me about yourself, Ms. Bertellini. Your background."
"My background?" She tilted her head slightly, and something about the movement sent a jolt through him. "Well, I graduated top of my class from Bocconi University with degrees in International Business and Economics. I have consulted for several firms across Europe, the Mariottis, as Marco mentioned, as well as the Castellanos in Spain and the Rousseau Group in Paris."
"Impressive." Lorenzo steepled his fingers. "And why leave consulting for those families to work here?"
"Who said I was leaving them?" Cassandra's smile was confident. "I simply find your company.….particularly intriguing, Mr. De Luca. The De Luca empire has its fingers in many pies, legitimate business, real estate, international trade. But there are.….inefficiencies. Vulnerabilities that could be exploited by competitors."
The way she said "vulnerabilities" made his pulse quicken.
"You've done your research."
"I always do." She leaned forward slightly, and he caught a hint of her perfume, a potent mix. "I don't take on clients I don't understand thoroughly."
Thoroughly.
Lorenzo's throat went dry. He shifted in his seat, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. "And what makes you think I need a consultant?"
"Mr. De Luca." Her eyes sparkled with challenge. "From what I understand, you have been running this company solo since your brother's death. That's eight years of bearing the weight of an empire alone. Even the strongest men need support."
The mention of Giovanni should have irritated him. No one dared mention the deceased De Luca brother to Lorenzo's face. Instead, coming from her lips, it felt.….different.
Perhaps he was just smitten and letting it cloud his common sense.
Yes, that was most likely it.
"My brother's death was.…." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Unexpected. But I have managed."
"Managed, yes. But thrived?" Cassandra pulled out a report, sliding it across the desk. Her fingers brushed his as he took it, and Lorenzo felt electricity shoot up his arm. "Your third-quarter earnings are down 8% from projections. Your Eastern European acquisitions are stalling. And from what I can see, your cybersecurity infrastructure is laughably outdated."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened. She wasn't wrong, but having it laid out so bluntly stung his pride. "And you can fix all of this?"
"I can." She met his gaze without flinching. "The question is, Mr. De Luca, are you willing to let me do that? Or are you going to keep pretending you don't need help?"
Ouch, she knew how to use her words.
Lorenzo found himself studying her, the curve of her lips, the intelligence in her eyes, her confidence.
Dangerous, his mind whispered. This woman is dangerous.
A smile graced his face. Perfect. "Fine." You're hired. We'll start with the cybersecurity overhaul and work from there."
"Excellent." Cassandra stood, extending her hand. "I look forward to working with you, Mr. De Luca."
He rose, taking her hand. The contact lingered a second too long.
"Call me Lorenzo," he said, surprising himself. "If we are going to be working closely together."
"Lorenzo." The way his name sounded in her voice was like a drug. "Then you should call me Cassandra."
"Cassandra," he repeated, and her smile widened.
She gathered her things, and Lorenzo watched as she moved toward the door, her hips—
Stop.
"I'll have Valentina set you up with an office," he said quickly. "Down the hall. You'll have full access to our systems, our files. Whatever you need."
"Perfect." She paused at the door, glancing back over her shoulder. "Oh, and Lorenzo?"
"Hmm?"
"Try not to knock over any more coffee mugs. I might not always be there to catch them."
The door closed behind her, and Lorenzo collapsed back into his chair.
Damn it.
His body was responding in ways it hadn't in years. A tightness in his chest. A heat low in his stomach. His pulse hammering against his ribs.
Damn it, damn it.
He was a little aroused, and he hated himself for it.
Calm down. Get yourself together.
This is what he got for suppressing his urges all this while. Marco was right, he had been alone too long, and now the first beautiful woman who challenged him had him acting like a teenager.
Lorenzo ran both hands through his hair, trying to focus on the reports in front of him. The quarterly projections. The Eastern European deal. The cybersecurity—
His phone chimed.
He glanced at the screen, expecting an email from Valentina or a calendar reminder.
Instead, there was a single text from an unknown number.
"Did you miss me, bello?"