Page 4 of War Within
He lowered his gaze. “There is no need to be nervous. I will let Mr. Rovati know you are here.”
I could only nod. Speaking would not have been ideal as nothing I could say would matter in a home this lovely. The moment he was out of sight, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a large mirror behind a couple of nude, Roman-looking statues with a water feature.
Shabby would have been an understatement. My attire consisted of a pair of black and pink yoga pants, a crop-top sweatshirt with my well-seasoned running shoes. In a flustered fit to leave, I did not bother to change, or fix my hair. A messy bun would have to do.
“And who are you?”
The abrupt sound of a female’s voice caused me to leap. Spinning around on my heels, I realized I was in the presence of one of the most stylish women I had ever seen. As I studied her much more revealing and expensive attire, she did not seem as interested in me.
“I asked you a question.” She dug her fists into her hips.
“Jane.” I glanced around for any sign of the man who went to get Mr. Rovati.
“Oh!” She giggled. “Right. Theassistant. Gio told me you were on the way.”
Puzzled, I narrowed my gaze, trying my best not to snap at her for being rude. “Okay?”
Brushing her blonde locks out of her eyes, she sneered. “I better go get some rest. Gio wore me out…again.”
She brushed by me with her nose in the air, purposely nudging my shoulder in the process. Just as I was about to trip her, the butler appeared around the corner. My posture stiffened.
“Did I hear you and Miss Mirabella?”
Shrugging, I did my best to keep my cool. “I guess.”
He appeared suspicious, lifting his finger to his chin.
“She didn't really give me her name.” I did not lie.
“Right.” He grinned. “Well, Mr. Rovati is ready for you.”
I was led down a long corridor and two smaller hallways, careful not to scuff the black soles of my shoes on thestone cut travertine flooring. We came to a stop at the top of a set of stairs. Jackson bobbed his head toward the archway. My gaze widened, unsure if I were about to trek down into my doom.
He chuckled. “It’s okay. They are just finishing a meeting. Go on.”
“They?” I lurched back, mouth agape.
Agreeably, he pointed a bit more harshly to the stairs. “He doesn’t like to be kept waiting, Miss Jane.”
Warily, I descended the stairs, clutching the railing to steady the sudden nausea and dizziness. I was beginning to think my ulterior motives were not worth risking my life for any amount of money. The moment I got the nerve, I peered around the enormous room.
Multiple modern-style sitting areas, game tables, a pool table, and a bar were the only things I spotted before my hand involuntarily clasped over my mouth. I struggled to process what I had walked in to. Mr. Rovati’s younger brothers were in attendance. All three of the men were dressed in solid black attire; Emilio in a formal suit, Luca in a track suit, and my boss in a button up and matching slacks.
Emilio, the arrogant middle brother, puffed on a cigar while perched on a bar stool, buried in his phone. Luca, the more pleasant, youngest brother, spun a wooden baseball bat, playfully balancing it on his fingertips as Mr. Rovati spoke in Italian to him.
Suddenly, he switched to English. “I don't care what you have to do to make it happen.”
Luca nodded, dropping the bat to his foot, then kicked it back up, catching it mid-air. “Consider it done.” He patted his older brother’s shoulder, before peering over it, zoning in on me. He spun the bat once again, smirking.
Mr. Rovati twisted unhurriedly toward me. “Are you going to just stand there?”
“I didn’t want to interrupt.” I plodded toward him, my heart racing.
Emilio hopped off the chair, pinning his cigar between his teeth. The guys exchanged a murmur with one another before the younger two strode toward me. I recoiled as subtly as I could. Luca passed me, offering a polite nod. Emilio, however, gripped his cigar between his fingers then pointed at me.Pow. The only sound emerging from his mouth was the enunciation of theP. With a sinister wink he waltzed by.
The moment he was out of sight behind me, I healed the breath I had been holding. Both my boss and Luca were intimidating, but something about Emilio terrified me. He seemed less human somehow. I was sure the eldest Rovati has his bad side, but I had not witnessed it yet. At this point, I was terrified to report anything back to my real boss. Emilio’s gesture either meant he was on to me or was just trying to scare me. If so, it worked to an extent.
“What on earth are you wearing?” Mr. Rovati’s disgusted tone ripped me from my thoughts.
