The Volpe Heir
CHAPTER ONE
Seven days ago, I signed my engagement papers.
Seven days.
It had taken my parents longer to choose the wine for the celebration than it had taken them to convince me that marrying Valerio Volpe was the right thing to do.
Not that I had fought them.
I never really did.
That was the strange thing about being the only daughter of the Rizzo family.
Everyone called me their queen.
They gave me everything.
Except a choice.
So when my father placed the papers in front of me, I picked up the pen.
I signed.
And just like that, I became the future wife of the most sought-after heir in Italy.
Today was supposed to be different.
Today was the first day Valerio and I were officially expected to begin acting like a couple.
My fiancé was supposed to pick me up.
He never came.
One hour passed.
Then two.
By the third, I'd stopped checking the road outside the little café and started checking my phone instead.
Nothing.
No message.
No call.
Nothing from Valerio Volpe.
I stared at his name on my screen.
"Unbelievable."
Rain tapped against the windows.
I'd been sitting here long enough for the waiter to stop asking if I wanted anything else.
I didn't blame him.
I'd ordered two coffees.
Neither had helped.
My phone rang.
Oliver.
I sighed before answering.
"Hello?"
"Where are you?"
"Busy."
There was a pause.
"Busy?"
"Very."
"You missed my birthday."
I closed my eyes.
Damn.
"I'm sorry."
"You've never missed my birthday, Alessia."
"It slipped my mind."
"And today of all days?"
I glanced toward the window.
Rain slid down the glass in long silver trails.
"I had something important."
"More important than me?"
I smiled despite myself.
"Don't flatter yourself."
"I'm wounded."
"You'll survive."
"I hope so."
His voice softened.
"I'll make it up to you next time. Big time."
"I'll hold you to that."
"Deal."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
We ended the call.
I looked at the clock.
Three hours.
I was done.
If Valerio Volpe wanted to play games on our first day, he could play them alone.
I booked an Uber.
Yes.
An Uber.
I hadn't taken one in years.
I'd grown up with drivers waiting outside the house, cars prepared before I even knew where I was going. My parents considered it normal.
Apparently, today was the day I was going to discover independence.
Wonderful.
By the time the car arrived, the rain had gotten heavier.
I climbed into the back seat and stared out at the city.
My reflection stared back.
I looked fine.
Too fine, perhaps.
My mother had spent nearly an hour that morning deciding what I should wear.
Cream dress.
Pearl earrings.
Nothing excessive.
Elegant.
Rizzo.
I touched one of the earrings.
Then frowned.
Why did I care?
I was going to meet a man who had left me waiting for three hours.
A man I'd already agreed to marry.
A man I didn't even know.
Maybe he wouldn't like me.
Maybe he had some ridiculous taste in women.
Maybe he liked women who looked as though they'd been carved out of marble and never spoke.
Fine.
Who cared?
I didn't like him either.
At least, I didn't think I did.
The car stopped before enormous black gates.
I looked up.
The Volpe estate.
Even from the road, it looked less like a house and more like a private kingdom.
The gates opened.
Security stood beneath black umbrellas.
One of them stepped forward as the car approached.
"Miss Rizzo?"
I nodded.
"Welcome."
I stepped out beneath the umbrella another guard immediately held over my head.
Rain hammered against the stone driveway.
Beyond it stood the Volpe residence.
Beautiful wasn't the right word.
It was enormous.
Old stone. Tall windows. Dark roofs. Gardens disappearing into the rain.
The Rizzos were wealthy.
Everyone knew that.
We were fifth among Italy's richest families.
But the Volpes were something else.
Number one.
Not just in money.
In influence.
In history.
In the kind of power that made people lower their voices when they said the family name.
And now I was apparently going to marry into it.
I hated the little spark of excitement that went through me.
It wasn't just nerves.
The place was beautiful.
The kind of beautiful that made you imagine what it would be like to wake up here every morning.
I pushed the thought away.
I wasn't marrying a house.
Inside, warmth wrapped around me.
A woman took my coat.
Another reached for my handbag.
Several members of the staff greeted me with polite smiles.
"Signorina Rizzo."
"Welcome, Signorina."
"Thank you."
I smiled politely, trying not to look as impressed as I felt.
The Rizzo house was large.
This place was something else.
It didn't feel like a home.
It felt inherited.
Every wall seemed to carry a history that belonged to someone long before I was born.
I followed the sound of voices toward the main parlour.
Then stopped.
The room was enormous.
It could have swallowed the entire living room of a three-bedroom apartment and still had space left over.
But I barely noticed.
Because there was something on the floor.
A woman's shoe.
Black.
Expensive.
My brows drew together.
Another shoe.
Then a dress.
I stared.
What the hell?
A handbag lay near one of the sofas.
A jacket had been discarded beside it.
Then I noticed the earrings.
My stomach tightened.
No.
Absolutely not.
I walked farther into the room.
My heels clicked softly against the marble.
Maybe there was an explanation.
There had to be.
But the thought didn't make the knot in my stomach disappear.
Cheating was one thing I'd never tolerated.
I didn't care how rich a man was.
I didn't care how handsome he was.
A commitment was a commitment.
If you gave someone your word, you respected it.
I heard something.
A breath.
Then a soft gasp.
I froze.
Someone was kissing.
No.
Not kissing.
Making out.
Deeply.
Desperately.
Like the rest of the world had disappeared.
My heart began beating harder.
I followed the sound.
Two figures stood near the tall windows.
A woman had her arms around a man's neck.
Her dress was half undone.
His back was toward me.
For one horrible second, I couldn't breathe.
Then he shifted.
Just enough.
The profile.
The jaw.
The dark hair.
That face.
I'd seen it in photographs.
Newspapers.
Magazines.
Business articles.
I knew that face before I'd ever met the man.
Valerio Volpe.
My fiancé.
The man who had left me waiting for three hours.
My first instinct was anger.
The second was disbelief.
The third was something I didn't want to name.
I stared at him.
He slowly lifted his head.
Our eyes met.
Everything inside me went still.
He didn't look surprised.
At least, not at first.
His expression changed a second later.
His eyes widened slightly.
The woman beside him turned.
She followed his gaze.
Then she saw me.
Nobody spoke.
Rain battered the windows behind them.
I looked at Valerio.
He looked at me.
Seven days ago, I'd signed my name beneath his.
I'd been told this marriage would secure my family's future.
I'd been told I would learn to love him.
I'd been told a lot of things.
But nobody had told me what to do when my future husband was kissing another woman before we'd even had our first proper meeting.
I swallowed.
The man I'd come here to meet for the first time...
was kissing another woman.
And he was looking directly at me.
