Billionaires: The Hero

Mina froze, disbelief plummeting through her, followed by a deep rage that sent blood pumping to every inch of her skin. “Did Father ever hit you?”

Her mother’s lips pursed. “Your father was a different kind of man.”

Yes, he had been. Honorable and loving. He would no more have lifted a hand to his wife or daughter than he would have kicked a dog on a street corner, which, she was sure, Silvio Marchetti would do. She was also sure from what had just happened, her fiancé’s behavior would escalate when she was under his roof as his wife.

“I won’t do it. We can find someone else.”

Her mother shook her head, a resigned look on her face. “You have rejected every choice I’ve made for over a year now, Mina. You are marrying in front of half of Palermo in two days. Life is not all sunshine and rainbows. Sacrifices must be made and we need your sacrifice now. You know that.”

Her mother was okay with sacrificing her to a ruthless, violent man?

Dio mio. She’d always known she was heartless, but this... What kind of a monster was she?

Her mother’s gaze softened. “I suggest you find some peace with this. Men are men. You happen to be marrying a filthy rich one. Let that be your comfort.”

CHAPTER THREE

MINA’S WEDDING DAY dawned sunny and crisp, ushering in the first day of fall in true, glorious Palermo fashion.

Bright rays of sunshine stole through the curtains that swayed in her open bedroom windows, a light breeze kissing her shoulders with a jasmine-scented caress. Temperatures were supposed to skyrocket to an unseasonable warmth as the afternoon went on, making it the perfect day for the lavish outdoor reception she and Silvio would host at Villa Marchetti.

Soon it would be time to slip on the stunning dress hanging in her wardrobe and make her way by horse and carriage to the elegant Palermo cathedral to wed her wealthy, influential groom.

A fairy-tale day it should have been. But inside, Mina was filled with dread. She couldn’t seem to function, her every muscle and limb numb as the minutes passed, her stomach barely holding down the light breakfast she’d managed to consume. Today she would marry Silvio, a man she didn’t love, who had turned out to be a hot-tempered, violent man. Everything she’d suspected he could be and more. And nothing she had said or done to convince her mother she couldn’t do it had worked.

She stared in the mirror as her mother layered thick concealer over the bruise Silvio had left on her cheek, not a hint of emotion on Simona Mastrantino’s face to indicate she felt any degree of empathy for her daughter.

“Makeup is a woman’s magic.” Her mother swept another layer of the thick concealer over her cheek. “No one will see the bruise. But you must remember to tuck this in your purse for touch-ups later with the photographs.”

Mina absorbed this latest piece of advice from her mother dazedly, wondering if she could truly be this heartless. There was no question their relationship had always been strained, distant. Simona Mastrantino had made it clear from the very beginning she had no interest in being a mother—she had done it only to keep her husband happy. Off to the nannies Mina had gone while her mother lived a socialite’s glamorous life as the wife of the CEO of one of Italy’s most successful companies.

Mina had accepted this state of affairs with the innocent obliviousness of a child who knew no different. That Camilla, her nanny, and her beloved papà were her source of love and affection, her mother a beautiful, foreign creature who was to be awed from afar, like one of her beautiful dolls, had been her reality.

Her chest throbbed at the memory of her papà. He had always come to her first when he’d gotten home, swung her up in his arms and called her his piccolo tesoro, his little treasure, as he’d carried her off to bed to read. The bond between father and daughter had been inviolate, her papà lavishing upon her the attention her mother had not.

Until the day she’d come home from school to find her nonna, Consolata, at the house, and her father dead of a massive heart attack. Mina had clung to her nonna, her eight-year-old face a river of tears as she’d begged her to take her to see her father, perhaps instinctively knowing her last grounding force had been taken away. But her nonna had refused all of Mina’s hysterical demands, telling her a hospital was no place for a child.

The dust had barely settled on her father’s grave when her mother had sold the family business and packed a grieving Mina off to boarding then finishing school. Ripped away from everything she knew, without the unconditional love of her father or Camilla, Mina had floundered, filled with confusion and guilt. What was it about her that caused her mother to reject her so completely? It had been her good schoolfriend Celia and her mother, Juliana, who had become a surrogate mother to Mina, who had saved her from the shadows of those miserable years.

Her mother had only recognized Mina’s importance when she’d come of age, an attractive bauble to dangle before Palermo’s most eligible bachelors to solve their financial problems. Then it had been a relentless pursuit to find her a rich husband to marry, not the bonding Mina had craved.

A lump formed in her throat. “Please don’t ask me to do this,” she begged her mother through frozen lips, repeating the appeal she’d already made twice today. “We can find someone else, Mamma.”

Her mother’s gaze hardened with impatience. “We’ve been through this, Mina. You had your chance to pick someone else. You chose no one. I chose Silvio. Stop being so childish and selfish. You are doing your duty to this family. Marry Silvio, sell the ring and all our problems will be solved.”

All her mother’s problems would be solved. Hers would just be beginning. She closed her eyes. This was not how it was supposed to go. Today was supposed to be sunshine and rainbows. Her father was supposed to be walking her down that aisle toward a man as besotted with her as her father had been with her mother.

After she’d made a life for herself. After she’d followed in her father’s brilliant business footsteps. She may not have Felicia Chocolate left—the family chocolatier her mother had sold—but her time spent in France studying and attaining top grades, learning of the vast and varied world out there, had taught her she could never limit herself to the traditional role of a woman in Sicily. She wanted more, so much more, for herself.

But all of that would be for naught if she married Silvio today. Her fingers curled around the arms of the chair, her knuckles gleaming white. She would spend her days pregnant with his bambinos, relegated to an artifact in his beautiful, cold, austere home.

The wedding planner’s assistant swept back into the room, Mina’s dress draped over her arm, having given mother and daughter a discreet few minutes to cover Silvio’s damage. “Are we ready for the dress?”

Her mother straightened and nodded. The wedding planner gave Mina a once-over. “Excellent. You look beautiful.”

Mina stood as the wedding planner moved to her side to help her on with the fairy-tale dress, one worthy of Silvio Marchetti’s wife. She lifted her arms as the assistant dropped the dress over her head and settled it down around her hips in a whisper of silk and lace. She obediently pulled in a breath as the dress was done up, hugging every curve of her body with its slim, tulip shape. Except she didn’t need to expend the effort as the dress did up easily. Too easily. She’d lost weight the last few weeks of fretting.

The wedding planner tutted about this latest wrinkle, producing pins to close the gap below the low, dipping back of the dress. Mina surveyed herself in the mirror, a tumult of emotion swirling through her. She looked impeccable. The dress was perfect, her hair an elegant chignon with tiny, white flowers woven through it, her face a subtle, painted masterpiece.

And it was all wrong. She could not do this. She could not.

Silver stilettos and the diamond choker and drop earrings Silvio had given her as a wedding gift completed her irreproachable appearance. And then it was time to go. She descended the wide circular staircase to the main level of the villa, the wedding planner managing her modest train behind her.

She had not even a bridesmaid to commiserate with. Celia was managing a big product launch in Paris and hadn’t been able to make it, which meant the bridesmaids were all Silvio’s—strangers to her.

She waited in the salon for the horse and carriage that would transport her to the church. Her mother and the planner would ride on ahead in the limousine Silvio had sent for them to ensure everything was ready for her arrival.

A cloud of perfume preceding her, her mother brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Brighten up, Mina. You will have everything after this.”

Except what she really wanted. Her freedom. A man who actually loved her.

The door closed behind her mother in a waft of jasmine and she was alone. Alone in the beautiful dress that flowed around her, the diamond choker growing tighter around her throat with every second that passed.

Her breathing grew shallow, her palms sweaty. She was out of time. Out of options.

* * *

The elegant old Mastrantino villa was located in the aristocratic neighborhood of Montepellegrino, with its sweeping views of Palermo, the surrounding mountains and the Tyrrhenian Sea.

As much as Nate appreciated the spectacular view, he was more interested in speaking with the Mastrantinos, acquiring Giovanni’s ring and wrapping up his business in Sicily so he could complete stops in Capri, Hong Kong and the Maldives before heading home to hand the ring over to his grandfather.

He had elected not to pursue the Giarruso at this point in time, as it wasn’t quite the unique opportunity he’d been searching for to enhance his portfolio—delectable smart chambermaids aside.

The handsome, elegantly stuccoed Mastrantino villa looked as quiet as it had the night before when he’d come seeking the ring only to find no one home. Hoping his luck was better today, Nate asked his driver to wait at the front entrance, strode up the wide set of steps to the front entrance and rang the bell.

When no one answered, he rang again, impatience thrumming through his veins. Why were there no staff members answering the door? Were the Mastrantinos out of town? He scowled. That would put a major kink in his plans.

He was about to ring a third time when the door opened and he was faced with a vision in white. A dark-haired vision in white. A wedding dress to be exact, floating around the woman’s incredible figure. He lifted his gaze to her beautiful face and shock flooded through him. Lina. Here?

“I thought you were my horse and carriage,” she breathed, hiking up the train of her dress.

He looked down at her silver, high heel–clad dainty feet, then back at the luxury sedan his driver had parked at the curb, wondering dazedly if he’d been transported into some bizarre real-life Cinderella reenactment. “No,” he replied slowly, looking back at Lina, “I most definitely came on four wheels.”

She blinked. “Signor Brunswick. What are you doing here?”

He noticed then the tears that streaked her perfect makeup, the vulnerable tilt to her chin, the quiver to her mouth, and damn if it didn’t tear him up inside.

He dragged his gaze back up to hers. “I am looking for the Mastrantinos. Do you live here?”

Her beautiful mouth quivered some more. He ran a hand through his hair. Cursed. Comforting emotional women was not his forte.

She pressed her lips together. “Now is not a very good time.”

No kidding. She was apparently getting married today. Not just taken, but marrying someone.

Why was she crying on her wedding day? He was no expert but he had been led to believe it was every woman’s dream.

He swallowed. “I am looking for Simona or Mina Mastrantino. They own a ring I would like to purchase. But since this is clearly not a good time, as you say, I can come ba—”

“What ring?” Her dark gaze fixed on his.

“The Fountain Ring with the sapphire in it.”

Her eyes widened. “How do you know about that ring?”

“My private investigator tracked it down for me. I want to purchase it.”

“Why?”

“It has...sentimental value for someone close to me.”

A woman walking down the avenue gave them a curious look. Lina stepped back and motioned for him to come in. He stepped in and she shut the door behind him.

“I am...Mina Mastrantino,” she said haltingly, digging her teeth into her bottom lip in that trademark nervous tic of hers. “I—I don’t use my real name when I work. But you can’t—I mean—please keep that between us.”

Who was he going to tell? And—what? Lina was Mina? Why in God’s name was she working as a chambermaid?

Lina, or rather Mina, gestured to a room to the left. “Please come in. Sit down.”

He walked past her into the richly appointed, slightly outdated salon which had clearly once been the showpiece of the villa with its hand-carved fireplaces, crystal chandeliers and elegant arches. Mina followed and indicated a chair for Nate while she perched on a sofa. He sat down, his gaze moving over the distraught bride’s face.

Her eyes were full of turmoil as she lifted them to his. “I would love to sell you the ring, Signor Brunswick, but unfortunately, I cannot.”

“Nate,” he corrected. She had seen him in a towel, after all. “And why not?”

“It’s a family heirloom. My father bequeathed it to me upon my marriage.”

He looked pointedly at her expensive wedding dress. “Which is happening today...”

“Yes.” Her lips started to quiver again, a tear escaping those dark-as-night eyes.

His blood pressure shot through the roof. Dear Lord, he didn’t need this right now. He really didn’t.

“Mina.” He moved across the room to sit beside her on the sofa, likely not the smartest move given the chemistry between them, but he couldn’t help himself as he lifted a hand to her delicate jaw to turn her face to him. Her dark lashes were soaked with tears that ran down her cheek like sparkling crystals. Her sultry mouth was vulnerable and bare of color. Undeniably enticing. But it was the dark shadow on her cheek the sunlight pouring in through the windows revealed that caught his attention. Turned his blood to ice.

He knew it was none of his business, knew he should walk out the door right now and come back tomorrow, but he couldn’t seem to move. He was a smart man. He could put two and two together and he did not like what he saw.

“Your fiancé,” he said quietly, dangerously, “gave you that bruise on your cheek?”

Her fingers flew up to cover it. “Oh, no, I—”

“Mina...”

She stared at him, dropped her head into her hands and sobbed.

Dammit all. Nate wrapped his arm around her and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her against his chest. She stiffened against him as if ready to bolt, then another sob racked her petite body and she melted into him, her tears soaking his shirt. Shredding his self-possession.

He held her as she cried, ruthlessly commanding his all too aware body that the soft curves that fit so perfectly against him were utterly off-limits. His hand stroked her silky hair, nudging some curly tendrils free from the perfect knot as her sobs dissolved into sniffles, but he didn’t care. She was trembling like a leaf.

“Tell me,” he ordered, “what is going on here.”

She shook her head. “Silvio—my fiancé—he’s a very powerful man. He would kill me if I said anything.”

He lifted her chin with his fingers. “Funny thing about that, Mina, but I’m a powerful man, too, and I don’t hit my women. Silvio who?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Silvio Marchetti. He owns half of Sicily. You really don’t want to get mixed up with him.”

He would like to get very mixed up with Silvio Marchetti right now. Violently, aggressively mixed up with Silvio Marchetti. Unfortunately, he wasn’t here for him to inflict the desired punishment.

“Why are you marrying a monster?”

Her dark eyes shone like polished ebony. “He is my mother’s choice. It’s been...arranged.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “That still happens?”

“Here it does.”

“Does your mother know he hits you?”

Her chin wobbled.

Hell. “Tell her you won’t.”

“I have. I—we need this match.”

“Why?” She could hardly need it.

Mina shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone is at the church already. I am marrying Silvio in front of half of Palermo in—” she looked at her watch “—less than an hour.”

“Call it off,” he grated. “You can’t possibly marry him, Mina. Look at you.”

She pushed a hand against his chest to get up. He held her firm. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we need the money,” she bit out. “I need to marry to get the ring so I can sell it and pay off our debts. My mother and I are bankrupt. That’s why I was working at the hotel.”

So she was going to marry a violent man to make that happen?

He let her go. Watched as she stood and paced the room, the train of her dress following behind her. “Why not marry someone of your own choosing, then?”

“I told you already.” She stopped and jammed her hands on her hips. “My mother arranged the match. Silvio was the last of a dozen candidates she put forward. I am out of choices.”

“Why did you reject the others?”

“Because I didn’t love them.”

Oh, boy. She was one of those. He hated to burst Ms. Mastrantino’s bubble at this particular dire moment in time but... “Love is a myth, Mina.” He gave her a hard look. “Find a man you’re comfortable with, who treats you right, and marry him.”

“It’s too late for that.” Her gaze swung to the window, a frantic, trapped look in her eyes. “The carriage will be here any minute.”

He studied the tension in every muscle of her slim body. The panicked aura that wove itself around her. She was truly terrified. And why not? She was about to marry an abusive man in minutes.

In that moment, he realized he could not leave Mina here to suffer that fate. It was insane, ludicrous. He had certainly never pegged himself as anyone’s Prince Charming, but he was not walking away and abandoning this vulnerable woman to a violent man. It went against every code of honor his mother had drilled into him.

He stood up and joined her at the window. She turned to look at him, a glazed, resigned expression on her face. “What would you do if you had a choice?” he asked. “If you could marry someone other than Silvio and sell the ring?”

“I would pay off our debts,” she said quietly, “walk away and start a new life for myself.”

“Silvio will be furious,” he said. “To have his bride jilt him at the altar in front of the whole city. You would have to leave town. And quickly.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “I was merely speaking in ‘what ifs.’ Of course I would never do it. It’s far too late now.”

He held her gaze. “Someone I care about very deeply wants that ring back. It was once his—years ago he had to sell it to survive. You need to get out of this situation. There is no way you can marry Silvio. So I’m proposing a business solution. Marry me, sell me the ring and I will fly you out of here tonight on my jet. We’ll get the marriage annulled immediately after the deal is done. We both get what we need.”

She gaped at him. “That is...crazy. I—I don’t even know you. Silvio will—” she waved a hand at him, the multicarat ring she had not been wearing while cleaning blinding in the light “—lose his mind.”

“You had me vetted at the Giarruso,” he reminded her. “They do full security checks. And you know this isn’t going to get any better. If he’s hit you once, he’ll hit you again. And again. Until you’ll think it’s normal to greet the day with bruises. If he doesn’t send you to the hospital with broken bones.”

She stared at him mutely.

“My jet is waiting on standby.” He kept his gaze on hers, steady and sure. “I’m offering you a way out of this. The decision is yours. If you choose to marry Silvio, I can come back at a mutually agreed upon time and make you an offer for the ring.”

Her cheeks drained of color. She pressed her hands to them and shook her head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Make a decision,’ he advised, casting a deliberate look toward the window. “And fast. When that carriage arrives, you are out of options.”

She paced the length of the room. Back and forth. Finally, she stopped in front of him, her small palms curled into fists by her sides. “You are really willing to do this? What about whatever woman is in your life? How is she going to feel about it?”

His mouth lifted. “There is no current woman, and even if there was, she’d know marriage is never in the cards for me. I’m fine with this, Mina. The question is are you?”

Her chin moved up and down.

“Is that a yes?”

“Sì.”

“You’re sure?” He held her gaze with his. “You have to be sure. There’s no turning back.”

“I’m sure.” Fear filled her eyes. “What if Silvio comes after us?”

“I will deal with him,” he said roughly. God help the man if he got his hands on him.

He swung into execution mode. “Get your purse and passport. Everything else can wait.”

She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, elaborate dress trailing behind her. Nate raked his hair out of his face. This might be the most unique business deal he’d ever made, but it certainly wasn’t the most complex. This one was simple. Marry the girl, get the ring and have their union annulled. As far as marriages went, it was the kind he could wrap his head around.

* * *

Mina was in shock. She must be, she decided as she sat in the backseat of the luxury car alongside Nate and attempted to contemplate the enormity of what she was doing. At this very minute, she was standing up Silvio Marchetti, one of Sicily’s most powerful figureheads, at the altar where her mother and her family and everyone they had known for generations were waiting for her to appear.

An image of her fiancé’s hard, unyielding face with its cruel edge flickered through her head. The incredulity of her failure to show up spreading across it until that white-hot rage of his set in. He would lose his mind. He would take it out on those around him. Her hands, laced together in her lap upon the fine silk of her dress, went ice-cold.

Would he take it out on her mother as the next best thing to her? Would her mother ever forgive her?

Simona Mastrantino might be an unfeeling, ambitious, repressed aristocrat willing to trade on her daughter’s fate, but she was all the family Mina had.

Would Silvio send his henchmen after her when he discovered what had happened? Did he have henchmen?

Her stomach heaved, a determined swallow all that was keeping her breakfast in her stomach. She was giving up everything she knew, agreeing to marry a man she hardly knew, to start a life far away from her home. Where would she go? To Paris where Celia was? Where she could use her French? Or was that too close to danger?

Nate continued to make phone call after phone call on his mobile, barking out orders in that deep authoritative tone of his. Phrases and words flew by in rapid succession. Civil ceremony, marriage license, documentation, prenup.

Nate flicked her a glance. “Can you have your solicitor give us the ring today? It would be better for us to leave tonight rather than wait around until the open of business tomorrow morning.”

Which might give Silvio a chance to track her down in a murderous rage. She shivered. “I will call him and find out.”

A quick conversation with Pasquale Tomei determined they were in luck. He had the ring in his home for safekeeping and could see them late afternoon. Which gave them time to marry first.

They pulled up at the Giarruso minutes later. She kept her head down as Nate put a hand to her back and guided her past curious onlookers through the front doors of the hotel and into the elevators to the penthouse suites. She breathed a sigh of relief as they rode skyward having avoided anyone she knew.