Taken - A Gangster Stepbrother Romance (8 page)

Chapter Thirteen

              Walking down the stairs towards the dining room, her guard only a few steps behind, Emma wondered what kind of Antonio she would meet this morning. She felt like so far, she had met three different Antonio’s: the Antonio from his office on her first day here, the Antonio recounted by Steven Wells, and the Antonio from last day at the Gala. Cold, protective, or charming.

 

              Emma was confused. Who was the real Antonio? She imagined a man who possessed all three qualities but she just couldn’t imagine a cold Antonio being so protective to watch over her and find out what schools she went to. And she couldn’t imagine a charming Antonio being as cold as he had been the day he had told her her mother was dead.

 

              Who was the real Antonio?

 

              As she stepped into the dining room, she saw the man in question seated at the head, a fruit plate set before him with a cup of coffee steaming on the side. He was busily reading something on a tablet. Emma took a seat to his right and immediately a fruit plate was placed in front of her as well.

 

              As she forked a strawberry, she wondered if Antonio would say anything about last night. About David. Remembering his stormy expression from last night, surely he had a mouthful to say. But instead, he continued to read in silence.

 

              “So how—”

 

              “Eat,” Antonio interrupted. “You have a busy schedule today.”

 

              Emma raised her brow. “I do?”

 

              Antonio gave her a look and watched as she obediently put the strawberry into her mouth. Once she was chewing, he said, “Well, technically
I
have a busy schedule but that means that today, so do you.”

 

              He put down the tablet and took a sip of his coffee. “You’re coming with me today into the office.”

 

             
The office.
She was going to go with him to work? “Why?”

 

              “Because it’s time you learned what the Del Marco business is all about. You need to learn some of our history and most definitely our present if you’re going to sell yourself as the daughter of Gabe Del Marco.”

 

              Emma fumed a little at his wording.
Sell herself?
If she remembered correctly, it was
he
who was trying to sell her as his sister.
She
would’ve been content leaving this all behind and going back home.

 

              But almost immediately, she was brought up short, nearly biting her tongue while chewing.

 

              She would’ve been glad to leave everything behind—the Del Marco name, her mother’s death, Antonio—
then.

 

              But
now
, she felt different. She could feel something tugging at her, keeping her here. She knew she couldn’t just walk out now. There was something tying her here, anchoring her.

 

              She looked up at the anchor himself and wondered when her feelings had changed so much.

 

              “In addition,” Antonio continued, “it’ll be good for you to know all these things so you can become a competent wife to David once he takes control over Cavalli Corp.”

 

              Immediately, she felt her heart plunge at his words. So, whatever it was that he had felt last night hadn’t changed his mind in continuing the wedding plans. She would still be marrying David.

 

             
So today is Cold, Detached Antonio, I guess.

 

              Emma reluctantly forked a piece of melon.

 

              “I’ll be leaving in half an hour after breakfast so make sure you find something suitable to wear today,” Antonio said, briefly looking over her pajamas, the only piece of clothing Emma had felt comfortable taking from the giant wardrobe that had been provided for her. “We’ll be leaving every day at nine.”

 

              Nine? “Every day?”

 

              “You’re not going to learn everything in one day, Emma,” Antonio said, returning to his tablet in dismissal. “You’ll be accompanying me on all business related appointments and meetings until I think you’re ready.”

 

              A bubbling, warm heat rushed down Emma’s spine. She could feel her toes tingling in reaction. She would be spending her entire days now with Antonio Del Marco. She would be accompanying him on countless meetings and be close to him during his work.

 

              Part of her dreaded it. It was clear the man was a hard taskmaster. He would be difficult and demanding and judging by his current mood, cold. But then a smaller but deeper part of her felt the warm, tingling fingers of anticipation heating her heart.

 

Chapter Fourteen

              After rushing up to her room, Emma had found a whole rack of suitable business wear attire. In fact, more than suitable. They looked like they had just come off some kind of runway. A little intimidated by so many fashionable choices, Emma picked a cream silk sleeveless blouse and a black pencil skirt. She found a pair of nude pumps with reasonable heels and called it a day. She wore no make up and her hair flowed freely down her back. Emma was quite sure she looked like a disservice to such beautiful and elegant clothes.

 

              But as she came down the stairs again, she saw Antonio standing in the foyer, speaking on his cell phone to someone. Unlike the night before, he did not turn and watch her come down. He did not look over her outfit and give her that warm look of approval.

 

              Just as Emma began to feel tiny and gauche, she saw Antonio finally finish his call and turn. By the time Emma reached the foyer, she felt silly. She felt like a child playing dress up. After all, when she went to work at the counseling center, she usually just wore baggy jeans and sweater. Silk and skirts was all beyond her. And it was clear Antonio could see that.

 

              “Why the pout?” Antonio asked.

 

              Emma kept her head down, trying not to feel too ridiculous in front of him. She didn’t know what to say.
I’m not worth all this extravagance? These clothes look silly on me?

 

              “Upset that the clothes don’t come near enough to the beauty of the model?” he teased.

 

              Emma snapped her head up, suspicious of his tone. But there was genuine sincerity in his eyes. He approved. It was as if she was getting to see through a crack in his mask into the Antonio he had been last night—warm, charming. She could see in his eyes that he liked what he saw. A warmth returned to her fingers and toes and her awkwardness slowly disappeared.

 

              Emma smiled back.

 

              Antonio’s eyes warmed at her smile. But then abruptly, he straightened up, shaking his head. “We’re late. Let’s go,” he said, walking out the front door without a glance back.

 

              The mask was back.

 

***

 

              Sitting in the back of the large black Range Rover, Emma wondered what kind of office Antonio would work at. She knew DM Holdings was a large company that had its fingers in many pots but the Del Marco Clan was still active. Sure, maybe not as active as it had been twenty years ago, but it was active enough that Emma had a job counseling the victims of their criminal activity.

 

              Would Antonio’s office be in some secret location where he could rule over both the criminal side and the corporate side?

 

              With a sudden pang, Emma missed the kids from her counseling center. As she watched the city fly by her window, recognizing some of the downtown buildings of Los Angeles’s financial center, she wondered how they were doing. Some of them were so fragile, so broken, Emma felt guilty not being there for them.

 

              Next to her, Antonio shifted, crossing his long legs at the ankles.

 

              And there she was, sitting right next to the mob boss who had caused all the pain of those children. And yet it was hard to bring back that same seething anger she had felt a few days before. Perhaps it was because she had seen a different side of Antonio. Or perhaps she realized how sprawling the Del Marco history was and that the majority of it had been built by Gabe Del Marco.

 

              Just as Emma was starting to feel uncomfortable with how to judge either man, the Range Rover pulled to a stop. Emma looked up, realizing she had been so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed where they were.

 

              The driver came around and opened her door. As Emma stepped out, she stared open mouthed at the building in front of her.

 

              It was a colossal tower that spiraled beautifully in all its steel and glass glory. “
This
is your office?” she squeaked. This 80 floor behemoth was where he worked? Where was the ratty secret warehouse or the small discreet office somewhere?

 

             
This
building was considered the crown jewel of downtown LA!

 

              “Is it that surprising?” Antonio asked, amusement clear in his voice.

 

              “But it doesn’t say your name anywhere! It doesn’t say DM Holdings anywhere on the building,” Emma argued.

 

              Antonio quirked an eyebrow. “It’s my building. I know it’s my building. I don’t need to name it to know it,” he said as if explaining the obvious.

 

             
Well I didn’t know we were going to get all logical here.
Closing her mouth, she followed Antonio into the enormous building.

 

              “Mr. Del Marco,” a tall woman in her late thirties approached, a small but pleasant smile on her face, “I have your redrawn schedule for today. The Radson meeting has been pushed back to three and the call from our Chinese distributors will be coming in at four thirty.” She handed him a black folder. Inside was a cream colored paper, detailing the day’s itinerary.

 

              “Excellent,” Antonio said. “And the buyers meeting at 10?”

 

              “It’s been all arranged, sir,” the woman said.

 

              Looking behind Antonio, the woman smiled at Emma. She handed a similar black folder to her. “And for you, Miss Del Marco,” she said.

 

              Emma took the folder, stunned. It was still unnerving to be called by such an infamous name. She wanted to correct the woman, to tell her she was just plain old Emma Harper, but she couldn’t get the words passed her throat.

 

              “My name is Margot if you need anything, Miss Del Marco. Please don’t hesitate to ask,” she said.

 

              Emma nodded mutely. Although she kept her eyes focused on the schedule in front her, she could feel Antonio’s amusement radiating from his broad back. She had an urge to kick him in the calf.

 

              Following Margot’s lead, they road a private elevator up to the top floor. Once the doors opened up, Emma felt like she was falling back down the rabbit hole. This was
not
how she had pictured Antonio Del Marco at work.

 

              The entire floor was the executive suite. With its clean, modern furnishings and sleek interior, it looked like the office of someone powerful, someone wealthy. But then…that was Antonio Del Marco, wasn’t it?

 

              And that was how the day was spent. Emma watched as the parade of DM Holdings employees came and went, meeting with Antonio for his directions, his opinions, or his approval.

 

Although she had very little understanding of what most of the meetings were about, she could tell very quickly that the wealth within the company was vast. She realized the Del Marco organization had not only gone beyond its former Del Marco Clan days, it had essentially eclipsed it. No one seeing DM Holdings now would ever think that the company had its roots in crime.

 

              And as another secretary came by asking if Miss Del Marco would like a coffee or tea, Emma realized that
she
was now part of this vast fortune. Although she doubted she could pull off being a Del Marco as well as Antonio could.

 

              She realized this was another side of him to see. Here, he was President and CEO. He led with a quiet authority and confidence that made his employees fall quickly in line with his orders. He was fair but ultimately in charge. And anyone looking at the man could see that. Authority radiated from him like light from the sun.

 

              She was caught up again in admiring the strength of his voice when speaking when she heard a name.

 

              “…and have you renewed the funding for Angels Services and Health?”

 

              A well groomed man in a dark navy suit nodded. “Yes, sir. For the next quarter—”

 

              “Wait,” Emma interrupted, “Angels Services?” Angels Services was the parent company that funded and operated several counseling centers around the city, hers included. What was Angels Services doing in a DM Holdings meeting?

 

              The man looked a little taken aback but nodded, clearly not wanting to offend a Del Marco. “Yes. Angels Services is part of our non-profit branch and we renew their funding every quarter during budget meetings. It’s—”

 

              “Wait,” Emma interrupted again, completely blown away. “Angels Services is part of DM Holdings? Like partners?” When would Angels Services agree to that? Then again, it’d be hard to turn down the kind of funding a place like DM Holdings could offer.

 

              “No, ma’am,” the man said politely. “Not partners. We created Angels Services two years ago. Angels Services runs through us. We own the operations.”

 

             
Two years ago.
That was around the time when she was graduating college and looking for counseling internships and graduate programs. She remembered how difficult it had been trying to find an internship. There were more students than counseling centers so internships were hard to come by.

 

Then she remembered getting an email from Lynwood Children’s Center, a subsidiary of Angels Service and Health, offering an opportunity for a
job
rather than an internship. She had figured she had been one of many people to get the email since it had had a generic greeting head. She had shown up at the office, interviewed, and had gotten the job right on the spot.

 

She had attributed the amazing opportunity to good luck and arriving as early as possible to interview. She had assumed she had just barely beat the other potential candidates by being so early and prompt.

 

Now she wondered….

 

She looked at Antonio who seemed to be refusing to meet her gaze. He cleared his throat instead and moved on to another matter of business.

 

Had that email even gone out to other students? Looking at Antonio’s furrowed brow as he discussed other budgetary issues with his secretary, she felt like she knew the answer.

 

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