Chapter 68

Adrian sat at his desk, bathed in the muted glow of the suite's floor-to-ceiling windows. The night stretched beyond the glass, thick with inky darkness. He absently rubbed the corners of his eyes, eyes that hadn't seen sleep in over 24 hours. The presidential suite, once a haven of luxury, had turned into a command center. Papers were strewn about, laptops hummed, and the room had the quiet buzz of efficient chaos. The city outside was lively with nightlife, yet Adrian remained locked in, poring over reports. The voice from the call earlier still rang in his head: "Boss, a few members of La Mano Nera have been tracking Ashleigh's whereabouts. They've traveled to America for further investigation. We believe they've found either her home or her college." That message had shifted everything. His mind replayed the voice with eerie clarity. No matter how many bodyguards he assigned to Ashleigh, no matter how many layers of security he placed, the thought of danger lurking near her kept gnawing at him. Even now, miles away, in the thick of corporate dealings, his thoughts drifted back to her, tightening his chest with unease. He clenched his fist, the tension in his muscles palpable, and glanced at his phone. Still no updates from Tristan or Jake. Mr. Turner, his personal assistant, moved silently through the suite like a shadow. He was on the phone, coordinating with the team back in America, and monitoring the communication lines between Adrian's security personnel. Turner was a master of multitasking, seamlessly dealing with corporate matters while keeping tabs on everything else that Adrian didn't have the bandwidth to handle. His ability to manage chaos with such calm was exactly what Adrian appreciated about him. But tonight, Adrian's mind wasn't just tangled in business deals. It was his last night in Italy before heading back to the U.S., yet even this simple plan was spiraling out of control. Turner approached with a phone in hand. "Boss, Mr. LaRosa is on the line. He insists on speaking with you directly." Adrian grimaced. His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. It was late, well past the hour anyone should be making social calls. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and took the phone, pushing aside his irritation. "Mr. LaRosa," he greeted, keeping his tone formal. "You're calling quite late. I hope everything is in order?" There was a warmth in LaRosa's voice, though it didn't fool Adrian. "Adrian, it's been a while! I wanted to thank you for the assistance you've given Caelia with her winery launch. We're all grateful." Adrian's jaw tightened at the mention of Caelia. The name lingered in the air, carrying the weight of obligation he didn't want. "It was no trouble. Caelia can always reach out if she needs anything else." LaRosa's chuckle floated through the phone, but there was something underneath it—a sharpness, a subtle hint of expectation. 'That's kind of you. But, Adrian, she's actually finished everything. The launch party is tomorrow evening." Adrian sat up straighter in his chair. "Tomorrow, you say? Congratulations to your family. I'll be sure to send a gift." "Ah, about that..." LaRosa's voice was suddenly softer, more insistent. "I think it would be better if you delivered it in person. You see, Caelia would be thrilled to have you there, especially after all your help. Your presence would mean the world to her." Adrian felt the flames of irritation spark inside him. He could almost see the strings being pulled from behind the scenes—his mother, no doubt, trying to push him closer to Caelia. Her constant matchmaking efforts had become a game of patience, one Adrian was losing. He took a steadying breath, the air in the room feeling suddenly stifling. He could imagine Caelia and her family all waiting for his answer. "I'm not sure I'll be able to make it," he said slowly, eyes narrowing at the pile of documents on his desk. "I have several engagements tomorrow, and I wouldn't want to commit to something I can't fulfill." There was a pause on the other end. Then, LaRosa sighed, and it was a deep, calculated sound. "That's unfortunate, Adrian. I was also hoping to discuss the Luigi project. Some investors will be present—ones who could take this project to new heights. But I understand if you're too busy." Adrian's heart froze for a split second. The Luigi project—his late father's deal, the one he had been chasing LaRosa about for months, if not years. Now the old man was dangling it in front of him like bait. He pressed his fingers into his temples, a headache beginning to bloom. "You're right," he said finally, his tone clipped. _"I'll be there."_ LaRosa's tone lightened instantly. "Wonderful! I knew you'd find a way. Caelia will be thrilled, Adrian. I'll have the details sent to your assistant. Goodnight, son." The call ended with a definitive click, leaving Adrian alone with his thoughts. He dropped the phone onto the desk, the metallic thud echoing in the spacious suite. Turner, having witnessed the whole exchange, was already tapping away at his tablet, likely arranging for Adrian's suit and other preparations for the next day's event. Adrian leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. He had always loathed these orchestrated events—the handshakes, the fake smiles, the endless small talk—but LaRosa's mention of the Luigi project had forced his hand. As much as he hated to admit it, this deal was too important to pass up. The next evening arrived faster than Adrian would have liked to Adrian's mind wasn't on the event as the sleek black car glided through the gates of the estate. The opulence of the venue barely registered. Towering archways framed the entrance, and sprawling gardens stretched into the distance, glowing faintly in the dying light of the evening. The air, thick with the scent of lavender and the faintest notes of expensive wine, would normally have soothed his tense shoulders. But tonight, a gnawing sense of unease clung to him, as persistent as a shadow. He sat in the backseat, staring at his reflection in the tinted windows. His face was calm, a mask perfected over years of maintaining control, yet beneath the surface, his thoughts churned like a stormy sea. It had been hours since he'd heard from Tristan or Jake about Ashleigh's whereabouts. They had fallen silent. And in Adrian's world, silence was never a good sign. A flicker of irritation crossed his expression as he checked his phone once again. Still no messages. His fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to call them, but he stopped himself. However, that nagging voice in the back of his mind—the one that had been whispering to him ever since La Mano Nera started sniffing around—was louder tonight. Too loud to ignore completely. "Boss?" Mr. Turner's voice broke through his thoughts. He was sitting beside the driver, turning slightly to face Adrian. "They're expecting you on the red carpet. There's a lot of press." Adrian tore his gaze from the window and glanced outside. The cameras were already flashing at the entrance, a sea of bright, artificial light waiting for him to step into it. He sighed, absently adjusting his cufflinks as if the routine action could ground him. He wasn't here to worry about Ashleigh. Not tonight. He had other matters to handle—like keeping up appearances at this farce of an event and securing a long-awaited business deal with Mr. LaRosa. "I'll give them an hour," he muttered, glancing at his watch. An hour was all he could afford to pretend like this mattered more than everything else weighing on him. "Make sure LaRosa is ready to talk business when I leave." The car door opened, and a wave of sound hit him. The buzz of the crowd, the snap of cameras, the murmurs of excitement as his towering figure stepped out into the spotlight. He could already feel their eyes on him, sizing him up, wondering why someone as elusive as Adrian Cagliari had decided to show up at a winery launch. His appearance was rare, and the media was ready to pounce. He ascended the steps where the LaRosa family stood in a semi-circle, waiting like actors on a stage. Caelia, in a flowing deep green gown that complemented her chestnut hair, lit up at the sight of him. Her smile was practiced, but her eyes sparkled with something more—a hopefulness that made Adrian's jaw tighten. "Adrian!" Mr. LaRosa boomed, stepping forward and pulling him into a firm embrace. "It's an honor to have you here, my boy!" Adrian returned the smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. The family's fake warmth hung in the air like a cloying perfume. "Of course. I couldn't miss it." Mrs. LaRosa stepped forward, her perfectly manicured fingers resting on Caelia's arm. "Caelia's so happy you made it. You've been such a great help in getting her winery off the ground." Caelia smiled at him, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes scanning his face for any sign of personal warmth. He offered none. Caelia's eyes flicked to Adrian, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He caught the glint of a photographer's lens in the distance, capturing their every move. "I'm just here to support her," Adrian said smoothly, waving Turner forward. Turner came up with a massive bouquet of lilies and a meticulously wrapped gift box. "Congratulations on the launch, Caelia. This is for you." Caelia's face lit up, a surprised gasp escaping her lips. "Adrian, you didn't have to! Just having you here is enough." Her hand grazed his arm as she leaned in, her honeyed voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you'll stay close tonight... It would mean a lot." "Come, let's get a photo together," Caelia said softly, signaling to the photographer nearby. She stepped closer to Adrian, her arm slipping around his. The flash of the cameras intensified as they posed, the perfect picture of a powerful man supporting a beautiful woman. To anyone looking, they appeared the ideal match. But Adrian's thoughts weren't with Caelia. They were thousands of miles away, back in America. And despite every effort to focus on the deal at hand, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.