by Angie Derek
The family was focused on MacDonald and barely noticed her until Santos stepped in.
"Marc." A lovely young woman with ebony hair jumped up from her seat next to an older woman and rushed forward to hug him.
Once they separated, she gave Lessa a hard look and tried to draw Santos away. He stood firm and gave her a pat on the back before taking Lessa's hand and guiding her over to a chair across the room. That action drew the entire family's attention. She should have asked him if he had any pictures of them to show her on the plane. The pretty woman who'd greeted Santos could be her sister, Clarissa.
"Marc?" one of the men asked.
"Jio," Santos nodded at him.
Lessa noted that the family all referred to Santos as Marc, rather than Marco, a nickname that suggested more than a business relationship. Certainly Clarissa's greeting was more than casual. She glanced at Clarissa again, wondering what her relationship to the tall man at her side might be. Santos drew her attention back as he gestured for MacDonald to get going. Lessa felt even more nervous when she noticed the intensity of her eldest brother, Jio's, attention. He was watching her with narrowed eyes. She swallowed and looked toward the petite and voluptuous woman next to him. Her gaze was more curious than hostile. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties and had to be Jio's wife, Nina.
"Who the hell is she?" The tallest man of the group glared at her with open hostility. He turned to MacDonald. "I thought this was for family only."
"Tony." MacDonald motioned him to sit back down. "We'll get through this as quickly as possible." He picked up a remote and pointed it at the TV behind the desk. "Jiovanni recorded this message for all of you. He updated it every six months, so it's current." He looked at each family member. "He has personal messages for each of you, including his personal bequests."
"He's not even buried yet," said the oldest woman, obviously Jiovanni's wife, before she began to cry. "It-it isn't right we do this," she whispered brokenly, "before he's-before he's buried."
"Mama." Jio moved away from his wife to sit next to his mother and take her hand. "Papa would understand. We must know all the specifics. We can't wait any longer."
Lucia leaned against Jio and wiped her eyes, then nodded for the attorney to go on.
"After, I have copies of the trust for all of you," MacDonald said. "I'll be happy to go over it with anyone individually."
He pressed play on the remote, and the TV flickered to life. Lessa couldn't wrap her head around the fact that she was staring at her father. It wasn't until Santos put his hand on top of hers that she realized she'd been twisting her fingers together.
"Hello, my family," Jiovanni said in a softly lilting accent. "If you're watching this it means I'm dead. Very depressing for me. Hopefully it was something benign. My poor Lucia, you'll be fine. Just give it some time. Though the house will go to Jio, I know your son will respect my wish that you will always be welcome to stay as long as you want. I know how much you miss home, so I've left our southern villa to you. You may go and live there or have it as a place to visit."
Lessa frowned over how dictating he sounded.
"Jio," Jiovanni said. "You and Nina will move into the estate with your children. It's a good home base. Ryan has all the details of the trust, but basically you'll take over my role of running the businesses."
Tony grunted. Lessa glanced over at him and saw him cross his arms in response to that news. It obviously angered him. She wondered if he and Jio didn't get along, or if he had wanted to be in charge of the family business.
"You're younger than I'd prefer as you still have a lot to learn, but it can't be helped," Jiovanni continued. "The organization is well structured. I know you'll want to choose your own lieutenants, but I advise against changing anything."
Lieutenants? What kind of business needs lieutenants, Lessa wondered
"Nina, you've been an excellent daughter-in-law. I can confess now, I was leery about having Jio marry you. Oh, business-wise it was an excellent arrangement to cement the permanent relationship with your father. But I wasn't sure how you would fit into my family. I was pleasantly surprised by you and have set aside some of my mother's jewelry for you."
Nina dabbed at her eyes and looked to her husband. Jio didn't look back, but remained focused on his mother. Lessa felt uncomfortable by the intimate family details Jiovanni was discussing so openly. It sounded as if Nina and Jio's marriage had been arranged by their fathers. Did people still do that sort of thing?
"Tony, by now you're steaming. I know you too well, my son," Jiovanni said sadly. "Your position will remain the same. Perhaps if you learn to control your temper, Jio will allow you more power, but I wouldn't recommend it for now."
"Bullshit!" Tony jumped up. "I've worked my way up from the bottom, just as he asked. I deserve more."
"Shut up, Tony," Jio said with a frown.
Tony growled, but sat back down.
The tape continued. "Clarissa, my darling daughter, you continue to baffle me. Lucia tells me to be patient. You're happy and finding yourself. But really, Clarissa, you should be married and making babies like Nina. Too much education isn't good for a girl. I sincerely hope you'll come to your senses and come home and do what's best for the family. Marc will make you an excellent husband. But at your mother's request, I've left an allowance in the trust for you to continue to go to school if you wish."
Lessa looked in surprise at Santos and then Clarissa. He hadn't mentioned being engaged to her sister, but that explained the intimate greeting.
"Edoardo, the baby of the family," Jiovanni said.
Lessa focused on the only other family member in the room. He was slouched in his chair and hadn't reacted to anything his father had said so far.
"You're mother has spoiled you too much. You continue to dabble in your arts. I trust you'll outgrow this soon and take your place in the family." Jiovanni sighed and tapped his fingers on the table. "There are of course others who aren't present who will be gifted items, and Ryan will make sure they receive letters stating this fact. The only two others who should be present are Marc and Alessandra."
The family turned as one to look at Lessa.
"Marc, though not of my blood, you have been indispensable to me. I never once doubted your loyalty, which is why you're stuck with the task of watching Alessandra. Ryan has the details of what I've arranged for you once you've finished this last job. Ah, little Lessa, I wish I could have met you. I've always wanted to, but it seems fate has intervened. Jio, my son, I'm placing Alessandra and her mother under the protection of the family. You will honor my request. Alessandra is my daughter."
A collective gasp sounded through the room. Lessa dropped her gaze to the ground, unable to look at her family. She was afraid of their expressions of horror. Biting her lip, she waited for Jiovanni to continue.
"Yes, I know this for sure," Jiovanni said. "I'm sorry, Lucia, I never gathered the courage to tell you this before. I know I can't expect you to welcome her with open arms, but I hope you find it in your heart to treat her kindly and not blame my sins on her."
"Bastardo," Lucia whispered.
Lessa glanced at her in surprise.
Lucia stared back, lips trembling. "Potete portare questo piccolo bastardo in casa mia! I will not have it."
"Mama." Jio's gaze was also on Lessa. But his face was carefully masked, not betraying any of what he was thinking.
CHAPTER THREE
Jiovanni sighed on the screen. "I'm sure you're all in an uproar and will probably be for some time. I trust Ryan and Marc will settle everyone down. Ryan will explain the details of the trust to you when you're ready. And that, my children and wife, is that."
MacDonald clicked the television off and opened his mouth to speak.
"That is that." Tony interrupted, laughing bitterly. "That's a load of bullshit is what it is. We're just supposed to take this little gold-digger's word for it that she's our half-sister?" He stomped up to Lessa and she shrank back into her seat
. "Just because you were able to convince an old man doesn't make it true."
Lessa flinched at his hostility, but couldn't collect her own thoughts fast enough to protest his reference to her as a gold digger.
Santos stood and stepped between them. "She's never met Jiovanni."
"What's your angle in all this?" Tony faced off with him.
Alarmed, Lessa instinctively grabbed Santos' wrist. She didn't want Tony's rage directed at her, but she didn't want these men to fight over her, either.
"What you think doesn't matter, Tony," MacDonald said. "Your father was clear. She'll receive her share of the family estate. The trust can't be unraveled. Anyone who contests the trust will lose his share of the business."
"If she isn't his daughter?" Tony snarled.
Lessa frowned at the accusation, but didn't blame him for doubting it. She hadn't believed it herself until her mother confirmed Jiovanni's claim.
"Her share of the estate isn't based on her paternity," MacDonald said.
"Speaking of paternity, would she be willing to prove it?" Jio asked.
"As I just said," MacDonald stated with controlled patience, "her inheritance is set. Alessandra doesn't have to prove anything."
"How am I supposed to prove it?" Lessa asked, finally gaining the courage to look Jio in the eye. His calm iciness was much more frightening than Tony's rage.
Jio stared at her steadily. "Would you be willing to take a blood test to prove what you say is true?"
"She didn't say it." Santos defended her. "She's never even met Jiovanni."
Lessa didn't reach for Santos again, but held Jio's gaze. He was just as hard to read as Marco Santos, but she knew she was being weighed and judged.
"There's no requirement for this, Alessandra," MacDonald interjected.
"I know." She chose her words carefully. "Yes, I'll submit to a blood test if you insist."
Jio stared at her a moment, then nodded. He looked to the attorney. "Set it up."
"I'll call the doctor," Ryan MacDonald said with stiff displeasure.
"No!" Lucia turned pleading eyes on her son. "You can't be considering letting this interloper into our family."
Lessa flinched at Lucia's shrill voice and could see the pain in the older woman's expression. She'd barely thought about Jiovanni's wife, or the fact that Lucia and Jiovanni had been married when Lessa was conceived.
"Mama," Jio began reassuringly.
"I insist you set her out," Lucia cried. "She is not welcome in my house."
"This is my home," he replied. Lucia pulled away from him. "I will honor my father's request. I won't throw her out."
Lucia sniffed and glared at her eldest son. "Very well." She gathered herself together as she slowly rose. "I must go to Jiovanni."
"I'll go with you, Mama." Tony offered her his arm.
Lucia refused to look at Lessa as they swept out of the room. She watched them depart and was still looking at the door when Jio spoke up.
"You're welcome to stay here, Alessandra. I'll provide protection and shelter for as long as you require."
Unsure of what to say, she glanced at Santos. He nodded in encouragement.
"Thank you." She had no idea if that was an appropriate response to being offered shelter by her half-brother who was also a stranger.
"I had Virginia set up a room for her," Santos added.
Jio maintained eye contact with Lessa. "I'll let you know when the doctor arrives."
"Of course." She tried to put on as cool a front as Jio was exhibiting.
The attorney harrumphed, and she vaguely wondered why he should care before refocusing her attention on Jio.
Jio broke eye contact with her to look at MacDonald in amusement. "Yes?"
"Nothing," the attorney said. "Who needs to go over the trust with me?"
Santos reached down and pulled Lessa to her feet. She wobbled as she lost her balance on more than one account. He kept a firm grip on her, and she could feel the blush creep up. MacDonald smiled and handed him a large thick package with Alessandra's name printed across the top.
"If you have any questions," he said, "Marco knows how to contact me."
She looked uneasily at the package wondering what it contained. She wasn't quite ready to open another message from her father. Lessa nodded to MacDonald.
It was as Santos was leading her out of the room that she again noticed her other two siblings, Clarissa and Edoardo. They had remained quiet during the entire exchange, watching everything unfold. She tried a small smile as Marco Santos walked her past them. They both stared at her in response. Well, at least they didn't snarl or leap at her as Tony had.
"Don't worry about it," he said softly as they exited the room. "Went better than I expected."
"You're kidding." She hurried to keep up with his quick steps. "That's what you expected?"
"I told you they wouldn't take the news well." He headed up the massive staircase in the center of the hall.
Her heels clicked as she climbed up after him. She was too focused on what had just happened in the other room to do more than notice the extravagant staircase with the paintings and statues lining the walls. They reached the hall, and he turned to climb another flight of stairs.
"Why didn't you tell me you were engaged to my…sister?" Lessa blurted out the question suddenly occupying her thoughts. She didn't want to look too closely as to why it was.
Surprised, Santos glanced at her over his shoulder. "It didn't come up."
It didn't come up. They'd sat in a plane for six hours, and he hadn't thought to include his engagement to her half-sister?
"You might have mentioned it when you were telling me about her ballet lessons, college education…"
He stopped and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Clarissa and I have an understanding which was facilitated by Jiovanni."
She frowned after him as he resumed walking. Jogging to keep up with his long strides, she thanked the hours of exercise required of a professional cheerleader which allowed her to run up a flight of marble stairs in four-inch heels.
"Are you telling me you two are betrothed? Like an arranged marriage?"
"You asked."
She wasn't sure what to say in response, so focused on what they were doing and where they were. "You had to put me on the top floor?"
"You're a dancer," he said in amusement. "I'd think a couple of stairs wouldn't bother you."
Lessa ignored his comment. "Where does the family stay?"
"Each family member has a room on the second floor." He led her down the hallway. "Guests stay on the third."
She wasn't sure whether to be relieved she wouldn't accidentally run into any of them or worried over the designation of guest instead of family. She didn't want to think about what it all meant so chose to focus on his earlier dig. Frivolous banter was much easier on the psyche.
"I'm a cheerleader not a dancer," she said as they reached her room.
Santos stopped, and she thought he held back a laugh as he looked at her. "I'm sorry. I thought cheerleaders were dancers."
"We are dancers, but cheerleaders first and always."
"Ra-ra and all that. So cheerleaders have a harder time climbing flights of stairs?"
She refused to laugh. "I will have you know flying thirty feet in the air takes a hell of a lot more than climbing a couple flights of stairs."
He narrowed his eyes, and she could see the confusion on his face as he tried to figure out her words. It might have been several years since she'd been tossed into the air, because professional cheerleading focused on dance, but she'd been cheering since she was seven and took pride in her years as a flyer.
"I take it you don't know any cheerleaders." Why was she delaying going into her room?
"I dated one in high school for a month." He smiled. "She was going through a bad boy phase."
"Ever watched it on TV?"
"Sure, the Super Bowl." He opened the door and motioned her into the room.
"Not foo
tball . . ." She slowly stepped into the room then stopped in surprise. She was standing in a living room, not a bedroom. ". . . Cheerleading."
He crowded in behind her, shut the door and glanced quickly at his watch. "Pom poms and short skirts."
"Okay." She'd lost the thread of what they'd been talking about as she looked around. It didn't take a genius to tell the furniture that decorated the blue- and white-accented room was high quality. A lot more high quality than in her home. The type she'd seen featured in magazines. "This isn't a bedroom."
"It's a suite." Santos led her over to the other side of the room. "You remember I mentioned I'd be sleeping on the couch."
He opened the door to the connecting bedroom. She stepped inside and glanced back out into the living room. It was in the same cozy cottage style, but instead of blue with white accents it was white with blue accents. Seeing the white carpeting, she hoped her shoes were clean.
"How does this work?" Lessa asked, noticing her duffle bag lying next to the fluffy king bed. It and his comment about sleeping on the couch had brought her back to why she was there.
"What?"
She turned to face him. "Us, constantly together."
He smiled briefly then looked serious. "I'll be with you most of the time. Including nights, which is why you got the suite with the couch large enough to fit me. I think that at least means you should start calling me Marc, like the rest of the family."
She glanced at the couch and doubted whether he would fit comfortably on it. He had to be at least six-two. It's not as if she hadn't noticed his tall, dark, brooding handsomeness. And now he wanted her to call him Marc. She wasn't sure why, but she liked that he considered her a member of the family.
"During the day, I'll stick close by you," He continued. "There will be times when I can't be with you, though, and I'd prefer you stayed in your room. Or wherever else I put you."
"Put me?" She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not an object, Marc."
"Sorry, not what I meant." Again, he glanced at his watch. "But this would be one of those times."
"My shadow's abandoning me." She really didn't like the idea of him not being there to reassure her everything would be fine. If she didn't have something stupid to talk to him about, she'd actually have to start thinking about her current situation. And she hated to admit it, but she was getting used to having him around. He made her feel . . . safe.