The sad part was, I mainly spent my nights working. Yes, it was in my many nightclubs, but it was still work.
“Good morning, Oma. Why are you upset? I am in bed. It’s a bit early for a social call.” I yawned, feeling sleep pushing to the forefront of my mind.
“Don’t you lie to me. I’m not as naive as your papa, believing his precious girl is staying home every night even though she’s being forced into marriage.”
I wouldn’t say Papa was naive. Over the last month, I’d realized Papa was trying to make up for the whole mess we were in by letting me do what I wanted. He knew I went out every night. I never hid it, but he thought I was with my friends, not running my business. As long as my security reported that I was fine, he left me alone.
“If I were sleeping with someone you would have good cause to keep tabs on me. I’m not.”
“You better not.”
Her outrage made me want to laugh. But she was beyond old school and so I listened and kept my amusement to myself.
Oma probably thought I was a virgin too. Lord, if she only knew my deflowering had happened under her nose, while on vacation with her in Switzerland.
I’d been seventeen, about to move to university. I’d met an eighteen-year-old son of a diplomat and we’d had a quick fling. We’d both known it would go nowhere with our parents being who they were. In the end, we’d become friends. Friends who’d stayed in touch over the years and then eventually worked together when I’d opened my first club.
“Oma, I’m not going to run away. I’m enjoying my life and the freedom I have. Besides, where would I go?”
She remained quiet for a few seconds.
“Don’t get into trouble. Your papa and mama have enough on their shoulders.”
I clenched my jaw. I hadn’t spoken to my mother, outside of the required responses, since the night I’d found out about the contract.
I still couldn’t understand why she’d kept this from me.
Hell, why had she kept it from Papa?
They were the quintessential mafia romance couple whose story would rival the plots of the most popular novels.
“Oma, I’m tired. I want to go to sleep.”
Oma sighed. “It’s not easy for her. She made a vow to keep the truth from everyone.”
“A vow to who?”
“It doesn’t matter, Isa. Just know she isn’t the villain you want her to be. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s your Opa. God rest his soul, the man made decisions no one could argue with. His reasoning for going to Weber will stay with him in the grave.”
It had been three years since Opa had passed away. I’d loved my grandfather with all my heart. He was rough and grumpy and ruthless, just like Papa was today.
I knew to understand even an inkling of what he’d been thinking, I would have to talk to Mama.
“Do you miss him?”
“Every day.”
“Did you always love him?”
Why hadn’t I asked that before?
I guessed I’d never known a time when Opa and Oma weren’t the couple who were in love. Opa had been traditional, with clear ideas of the roles of men and women, but he’d treated Oma like a treasure.
“No, I actually hated him for the first two years of our fifty-three years together.”
“What?”
“He had a mistress, and I wasn’t going to accept it, no matter who he was. It took two years for him to get his head out of his ass. Once your Opa stopped living the life of a bachelor, I gave him a chance.”
“And it took you how long to love him?”
“Another year. Around the time your Aunt Carolena was born, I knew he’d changed.”
My Aunt Caro was a force of nature, and I adored her. She’d moved to America after her arranged marriage twenty years earlier and never looked back. She was the wife of an investment manager who catered to families like mine. Even though she could have lived a life of pampered luxury, she ran a chain of high-fashion resale shops that specialized in used designer clothing worn once, if ever.
“Do you think there’s hope for me?”
Why had I asked that?
I wasn’t sure I could ever grow to love a man who held my family’s future in his hands.
What would I do if Sebastian forbade me to have my businesses or work?
I knew plenty of women in our world who had to give up everything they’d treasured before their marriages to focus on the needs and wants of her husband and his family.
“There is always hope, Hasi.”
“Thank you, Oma.” I released a loud yawn. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Now get a few hours’ sleep. You’ll need it.”
What was happening that I’d need sleep? Mama and Papa couldn’t spring another surprise marriage on me.
“Why?”
“Your future father-in-law is going to meet the family for brunch at noon.”
My lids shot open. “What?”
They must not have understood that when I’d said I didn’t want to meet my future husband that it also extended to his family.
“You heard me. Don’t be late. Good night.” She hung up.
With this new bit of news, I was not going to have any sort of relaxing sleep.
Around twelve thirty, I arrived at El Pesto, an Italian eatery outside the posh neighborhood where my parents lived and I’d grown up. I was late and expected annoyed glares from my family. I was never late to anything, and the fact I was late would mean they thought I’d done it on purpose.
How was I to know that today of all days I’d hit traffic because of a major accident on the road from my apartment to the restaurant?
Honestly, I couldn’t say I was too upset. The last thing I wanted to do was have brunch with the man who’d decided it was time I became his son’s wife.
A tall, rail-thin man with salt-and-pepper hair rushed toward me. “Miss Benz. Welcome. Your family is waiting in the Parlor Room.”
“Good to see you, Romy. How are the girls?” I leaned forward, kissing his cheeks.
Romy had been my family’s personal waiter since the time Opa ran the family. He knew everyone’s likes and dislikes and had an uncanny way of anticipating the needs of his guests.
“They’re very good. Thank you for asking.” He led me through the main dining hall and into a back hallway.
Papa and Mama never ate in public unless they wanted people to see them. They preferred privacy and the comfort of knowing people weren’t constantly watching them.
I’d heard Jonas Weber viewed attention very differently. He loved media coverage and went to great lengths for everyone to see him. At least his son wasn’t of the same mindset. I’d spent the last month scouring the Net for every tidbit of information about him. I’d gone as far as to contact my friend Ana, who recently retired from Solon, a security agency specializing in underground information, to help.
After Ana had gotten over her initial shock of me asking her, she’d agreed to help, but had warned me that her information would be limited since she no longer “officially” worked for Solon.
With who my father was, we tended to avoid discussion revolving around her job or anyone connected to my family.
The information she’d found was limited at best, centered around what was publicly known about him, his family ties, education, and various businesses.
The few pictures of Sebastian available were grainy at best and could have been of any other man on the street. It almost seemed as if he’d scrubbed any and all records about himself.
There was one bit of news revealed in the report that had surprised me. Sebastian had a deep-seated hatred for anyone involved in human trafficking. If he learned any of his associates were rumored to have ties to that world, he made it a mission to destroy that individual and the organization they were associated with.
According to Ana, Sebastian had a reputation for using his connections to work with and help groups whose sole purpose was to end this dark underworld
practice.
At least that was something positive about Sebastian Weber.
Papa had the same belief and gave considerable donations to organizations who helped victims who were rescued from sex-trafficking rings.
So in the end, what I’d learned about Sebastian was that he was a ruthless mob boss with a moral compass. Which really gave me no insight into the man himself.
He was a bigger mystery than ever.
I’d asked my family not to meet him or learn anything about him until we married, and I guessed the universe was answering my request.
Then there was the man I’d met last night. He was another enigma. One I shouldn’t be thinking about at all.
Especially when I was about to meet my father-in-law.
Jonas Weber was no way near as big a mystery as his son. Jonas had more than an encyclopedia’s worth of information available. I’d learned from listening to conversations over the years that people viewed Jonas as lazy and untrustworthy, and that he possessed an inflated ego. The very type of man Papa despised with a passion.
“Here you go.” Romy opened the double doors leading into the private dining room.
Papa, Mama, Oma, and Jonas Weber were seated around an oval table. Everyone’s attention shifted from the conversation they were engaged in to me.
“I apologize for being late, Papa.” I moved toward him.
He rose, meeting me halfway. He engulfed me in his arms for a tight hug and a kiss on my cheek.
“No need to apologize. I heard about the accident on the news reports. Come, meet Jonas Weber.”
I approached the man who looked much younger than the sixty-eight years the Internet reported him as being. He had a slight dusting of gray at the temples with the rest of his hair being a rich blondish brown. His build was similar to Papa’s, but he wasn’t as fit. Something told me he spent more time behind a desk than out with his men.
Jonas took my hand, bringing it to his lips. “So, you are my new daughter.”
“Not yet, but soon.” I gave him a polite smile. Something about the way he looked at me made my skin crawl.
Oma must have noticed my reaction and spoke up. “Isa, come sit with me. You just missed your fiancé.”
My heartbeat spiked. “He was here?”
I moved around to where Oma sat and shot Papa a look, but he ignored me.
“Yes, but he had pressing business to attend,” Jonas added as he took his seat. “It’s something you’ll have to become used to. As a Weber, you’ll have responsibilities and a role to play.”
I was beginning to dislike Jonas Weber more than I already had.
“Isa is a fine hostess.” Mama glanced in my direction without actually catching my eyes. “We’ve raised her well, and she knows what’s expected of her.”
“I’m sure it’s all fine and well, but everyone knows she’s been doted upon by the family since you couldn’t produce more children. She’ll need to have a solid backbone.”
“My child has a will of steel. Don’t mistake her beauty and delicate size as any indication of her nature.”
Were they really talking about me as if I were a head of cattle up for auction?
“She is a pampered princess. We’ll teach her what she needs to know to be a true Weber and what will become her responsibilities.”
Oh, hell no, he hadn’t just said that.
“I’m well educated, beyond you and even what your son has achieved. I run an art foundation as well as various charities. I know exactly how to deal with responsibilities.” My tone wasn’t per se hard, but it conveyed I wasn’t going to let Jonas Weber bully my family. “You’re my future father-in-law, not my future husband. Your input on my behavior and responsibilities isn’t requested or required. Your father purchased me for your son, not for yourself.”
I stood, knowing I probably shouldn’t have said that. I was so tired of people setting the course for my life. I wasn’t going to let this man set the precedent for all our future interactions.
It was better that he knew I was a hellion and not the wimp he assumed I was.
Jonas’s face grew red. “I am the head of my family and you will honor me as such.”
“I read the contract. The second I say my vows, my future husband is the head of the family. I’ve done my research.” I glanced at Oma. “I’m sorry but I don’t believe brunch is a good idea.”
“Benz, are you going to say anything to this girl of yours?”
“I believe she expresses our sentiment. You forced this on our family.”
I felt a surge of pride at Papa’s words. He’d stood up for me, even if it went against Jonas.
“No, our fathers did.” His lips curved. “As did our wives.”
“It makes no difference. You and I both know it never had to pass. A contract like that isn’t binding unless one of the parties tries to enforce it. You want what I’ve built.”
Papa’s words had no effect on Jonas. His grin grew. “My son will own everything you built. I win, no matter your belief.”
“And on that note, I’ll head out. Enjoy your brunch. I’m sure there will be hours of stimulating conversation.”
I came around the table.
“Where are you going?” Papa asked.
“I have to do some paperwork at the museum for an appraisal I gave them.” I turned my attention to Jonas. “Papa Jonas, I would like to refrain from any and all further interaction with you until after the wedding.”
I walked toward the doors.
He rose to grab my hand as I passed him. I wasn’t sure what came over me. I twisted, breaking Jonas’s hold, and then shoved him back, knocking him into the table, causing wine to spill everywhere.
I ignored the shock on my family’s faces.
“Don’t ever touch me. The only Weber who’ll get that right is the one I was bought for.”
I stalked out, not bothering to look back.
When I hit the cold fall air, I felt my heartbeat echo into my ears.
Holy fuck, I’d just about decked a man who was not only my future father-in-law, but a crime boss. The fucker shouldn’t have touched me.
Why the hell had Papa thought it was a good idea to have brunch with Weber when I didn’t want to meet his son until our wedding day? And why the fuck had Sebastian Weber shown up?
Was it some power play to remind me my wants and desires were second to those of the Webers?
It wasn’t as if I could forget my mother and my grandfather had sold me to Weber like I was a commodity.
I decided I needed a drink and made my way to Dimitri’s, the bar on the corner of the street.
It was named after the owner, who would be tending bar. He’d given me my first “legal” drink when I’d turned eighteen. It wasn’t technically illegal for me to drink wine or beer after I turned sixteen, but it wasn’t something well-bred daughters did.
Plus, going to the bar would keep the urge to go to Emma’s and see if Baz showed up at bay.
That was another complication I had to keep out of my life. What was the point of tempting myself with something I knew I couldn’t have?
I pulled the heavy door open, causing the bell on the door to jingle.
Dimitri looked up from wiping the bar, and immediately a smile covered his face.
“Isa, it’s been too long.”
I hugged Dimitri as he came around the bar.
“It’s hard to make it down here unless I’m visiting Mama and Papa. Especially since I don’t live in the neighborhood anymore.”
“Yes,” he said in his musing way. “Stephan told me the other day. He also mentioned you’re doing very well in the art business. I hear you’re booked out for the next year.”
Stephan was head of security for Papa and well aware I wasn’t the princess the world believed me to be. He’d personally kept me out of trouble a time or two when I was a teenager. He also treated me like his own daughter and bragged about me like a proud papa.
I glanced at my own security le
ad, Jax, who happened to be Stephan’s son. Jax was the only one Stephan had trusted to protect me.
“It’s good to have people who care about you around. They keep you out of trouble.”
Jax coughed at that statement, and I glared at him.
Turning my attention back to Dimitri, I asked, “Do you have any of the Firewater Black Label?”
Firewater was a whiskey with a cult following. It tasted like it had been aged for twenty years but in fact was created in a lab and aged less than a year. The owner of the company, Penny Lykaios, was a genius and happened to be Ana’s cousin. Ana had introduced us and we’d fostered a friendship over the years. It was actually Penny and her husband Hagen who’d influenced me to take the jump into the nightclub business. With their guidance and the exclusive distribution contract I’d negotiated with Penny for Firewater, I’d gained an edge in the cutthroat nightlife industry.
“You should know. Aren’t you the one who got me on the list for distribution?”
Dimitri pulled the bottle from a cabinet where he held the reserved spirits he kept for his high-end clients, mainly my father and his circle.
“Yes, but no one’s supposed to know that secret. If Papa finds out, you won’t get any more bottles.”
“No one’s here who’d tell on you.” He looked up at Jax, who nodded.
Dimitri poured two fingers’ worth of the reddish-gold liquid into a tumbler and set it in front of me.
Without a second thought, I shot back the expensive whiskey, letting the alcohol burn down my throat and warm my stomach.
“Another.”
Dimitri narrowed his gaze at me but complied.
I drank the second glass back. “Again.”
“Only one more.”
Frowning, I said, “Fine. You’d hand me the bottle if you were dealing with the shit I was.”
“Getting drunk won’t solve your issues.”
I was surrounded by overprotective men, and the way Jax was staring at me, he would take the bottle from me if it were in my hand.
They weren’t the one stuck marrying a man they’d never met to save everything their family had worked to build. Or expected to produce the next generation with a man who may or may not be a horrible human being.
Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection Page 90