Di Marcello's Secret Son. Rachael Thomas
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Sebastien’s mouth twisted. ‘Like your cars? Your private island? You don’t even use that boat you’re so proud of, Stavros. We buy expensive toys and play dangerous games, but does it enrich our lives? Feed our souls?’
‘What are you suggesting?’ Alejandro drawled. ‘We go and live with the Buddhists in the mountains? Learn the meaning of life? Renounce our worldly possessions to find inner clarity?’
‘You three couldn’t go two weeks without your wealth and family names to support you.’ Sebastien’s voice hardened.
‘Could you?’ Stavros challenged. ‘Try telling us you would go back to when you were broke, before you made your fortune. Hungry isn’t happy. That’s why you are such a rich bastard now.’
Sebastien looked from one to the other. ‘As it happens I’ve been thinking of donating half my fortune to charity, to start a global search and rescue fund. Not everyone has friends who will dig them out of an avalanche with their bare hands.’
‘Are you serious?’ Alejandro injected. Sebastien had their attention now. ‘That’s what? Five billion?’
‘You can’t take it with you,’ Sebastien philosophized. ‘Monika is on board with it, but I’m still debating. I’ll tell you what. You three go two weeks without your credit cards and I’ll do it.’
Sebastien silenced the chink of the chips, the sternness of his expression a warning in itself.
Although he’d directed the statement at all three of them, Antonio had the distinct impression it was aimed specifically at him.
‘Starting when? We all have responsibilities,’ Alejandro said as he looked at Stavros, then to him and Antonio nodded in agreement.
‘Fair enough. Clear the decks at home. But be prepared for word from me—and two weeks in the real world.’ Sebastien looked at each of them in turn, the silence in the room heavier than the weight of snow they’d dug through to drag their friend out from the claws of death.
Antonio sat back again, trying to shake off the sense of impending trouble. This wasn’t what the evening should be about. They’d just pulled off the wildest challenge yet, but what Sebastien was suggesting was far more than their usual challenge, more than the normal show of bravado. This was the ultimate dare.
‘You’re really going to wager half your fortune on a cakewalk of a challenge?’ Alejandro put in, the game of poker now the last thing on anyone’s mind.
‘If you’ll put up your island, your favourite toys?’ Sebastien began, his deep voice as calm as ever. ‘I’ll say where and when.’
‘Easy,’ Stavros spoke first. ‘Count me in.’
Antonio exchanged glances with Stavros and Alejandro and saw the same suspicion mirrored in their eyes. What the hell was Sebastien planning and how was it connected with going two weeks without their credit cards, family names and wealth?
FOUR MONTHS AGO Antonio had accepted Sebastien’s challenge and today it began. Two weeks without his wealth and all that went with it. The only contact he’d have with life as he knew it for the next fourteen days would be through Stavros and Alejandro, who were still waiting to find out just what it was that Sebastien had planned to challenge them with and where.
Antonio closed the apartment door behind him. The sounds of Milan’s streets filtered in, seeming to bounce around the compact but sparsely furnished room, which was the main living area of the apartment Sebastien had sent him to.
He glanced round the room. This had to be some kind of a joke. What the hell was Sebastien playing at? He saw a note on top of a pile of clothes and a pair of boots which had been left neatly on the black seats running along one wall to serve as a sofa. He damn well hoped it wasn’t the bed too.
His designer shoes tapped hard on the white tiled floor as he crossed the small room in a few strides and picked up the envelope addressed to him. No mistake, then; this was the right place. He glanced down at the clothes and boots and frowned, cursing in Italian.
Apart from the fact that Milan was too close to his estranged parents, and it was where he’d lived with his ex-wife for the few short months their so-called marriage had lasted, it was also where he’d met the one woman who’d tested his family duty and honour to the limit. She’d almost driven him mad with desire, but duty had won. His passion and desire had been overridden, but that brief weekend affair with Sadie Parker had made him wish things were different—that he was different, that he hadn’t already had his future mapped out by a family who thought more of their family name than anything else.
Irritation coursed through him as he opened the note.
Welcome to your home. For the next two weeks Antonio Di Marcello does not exist. You will be known as Toni Adessi and you will report to Centro Auto Barzetti, across the road, as soon as you have changed, your undercover job for the next two weeks.
You may only contact me, Stavros or Alejandro on the phone provided. You will not make contact with anyone else via any method for the next two weeks. You have two hundred euros on which to live. Under no circumstances are you to blow your cover. If you succeed, I will make the promised donation of five billion dollars to set up a global search and rescue.
Use your time wisely. This challenge is not about fixing cars, Antonio. It is about fixing your past.
Sebastien
Antonio refused to focus on that last sentence and instead picked up the worryingly old-fashioned phone and checked the contacts. There were just three: Stavros and Alejandro, who’d taken up the bizarre challenge also, and Sebastien himself.
A furious expletive tore from Antonio’s lips. How the hell was he supposed to conduct his business without a decent phone and from such a primitive room? Hell, there wasn’t even a laptop, just the smallest television he’d ever seen. Sebastien was serious. There was to be no contact with his real life.
His instinct was to walk out and return to normality, but doing that would mean much more than a failure of his personal challenge. It would be even more than Sebastien not creating the global search and rescue charity as he had promised he would if they all successfully completed their challenges. Such a charity was meaningful to all of them, after the avalanche which could all too easily have snatched Sebastien from them. Yet still this challenge was far greater than that. It was about a code of honour so strong that not one of them would ever question it—or break it.
He looked at the overalls, vest T-shirt and jeans which were complete with authentic grease stains and bit back further words of fury as the need to succeed surged. Failure was never an option he tolerated. He’d show Sebastien he could do this ridiculous undercover job and whatever it was his challenge entailed. He might have been born into wealth, but he’d amassed a far greater fortune since taking over the family business, turning it into a global success within the world of construction. He’d fought every bit as hard as Sebastien had in his business. Family wealth and an ancestry which went back generations were not as beneficial as the club’s founder member thought.
Again a harsh expletive tore from him. Whatever it was that Sebastien