Wedded, Bedded, Betrayed. Michelle Smart

guilt, why didn’t you take the risk yourself? Why use a bunch of criminals as cover?’

      He smiled without humour. ‘I’ve already spent two years in prison. Believe me, I have no wish to spend another day there. I let the experts take the risk.’

      Without warning, she jumped up from her chair and hurried to the railing, whereby she threw the file overboard. The papers flew out, the breeze lifting them and scattering them in all directions.

      ‘That’s what I think of your evidence,’ Elena said coldly, trying desperately to hide the fact her heart was thrumming madly and her blood felt as if ice had been injected directly into her bloodstream.

      This was all a horrible lie. There was no other explanation.

      Her father was not a criminal. It was possible some of his art might not be entirely legitimate but illegal art was a world away from fraud and money laundering. He was a good, loving man who had raised her and her three older brothers single-handedly after her mother’s death when Elena had been a toddler.

      She watched Gabriele’s jaw clench. He gripped hold of his coffee and downed it.

      She hoped it scorched him.

      ‘There is plenty more evidence,’ he said in a tone far more even than the brimstone firing from his now black eyes portrayed. ‘One phone call will be enough to have the FBI and the local police obtain a search warrant. One call. Would you like me to make it?’

      ‘Why would they believe you?’ she sneered. ‘You’re a convicted criminal and that “evidence” is illegally gained. It wouldn’t stand up in any court.’

      ‘It’s enough to get the ball rolling. The authorities are watching your father. They’re watching your brothers...and they’re watching you. Your family is like a collection of kindling. All the authorities are waiting on is the match to light it. If the worst happens and they judge they can’t use the evidence, then copies of the documents will be emailed from an anonymous, untraceable email address to every major news outlet in the world. Either way he’s finished, and you’re finished too.’

      Elena put a hand to her chest and blinked hard to clear the clouds swimming in her eyes.

      Whoever Gabriele had paid to create the documents was a master of the art. Anyone looking at them could be forgiven for thinking they had an air of legitimacy to them.

      Her father—her entire family—had been living under a cloud of suspicion for a year, ever since Gabriele had been released from prison and begun his whispering campaign against them. He’d been clever about it, always making sure his comments were right on the cusp of slanderous.

      There had been other incidents too, minor in the grand scheme of things; investors pulling out of deals at the last moment, the banks insisting on greater scrutiny of the books, all the little things that could be passed off as consequences of a turbulent global economy but as a whole were evidence of someone working against them.

      She clung to the railing, her knuckles turning white. ‘Do you hate us because my father never stood up for your father when the accusations first came out? Is that the reason for all this?’

      He laughed. It was the bitterest sound she had ever heard.

      ‘You’re very good at the wide-eyed ingénue act, I’ll give you that,’ he said with a shake of his dark head. ‘One could almost believe you’re naïve about the fact that it was your father behind it all.’

      She shook her head. ‘You’re lying. Everyone knows you and your father were in on it together. You took the rap to spare him. My father was questioned once and they found no evidence against him.’

      ‘They found no evidence against your father because the trail he made was deliberately laid to lead to my father,’ he snarled, showing the first real sign of anger, enough to make her recoil and tighten her hold on the rail. ‘The FBI has been trying to pin something on him for years. Our fathers went into business together at your father’s instigation so he could hide behind my father’s respectability. He used my father’s affection, good nature and loyalty to an old friend, and framed him.’

      ‘Where’s the evidence? You’re making a lot of nasty insinuations and accusations here but where’s a shred of evidence to back up the claims?’

      ‘It’s out there and I will find it.’

      ‘Or forge it like you did those other documents you claim are from the chapel basement.’

      Her father had stored business documents in the chapel basement for decades. There was nothing sinister about it—it was simply the most secure place for them. Or, rather, had been.

      ‘Admit it, Elena, the documents I copied last night are the real deal. Their release is the smoking gun the FBI is waiting for.’

      ‘They’re forgeries.’ But she could not deny that they were brilliantly constructed forgeries. As far as forgeries went, they were perfect.

      ‘You know perfectly well they’re not. You’re up to your pretty neck in all this.’

      ‘I’m not up to my neck in anything.’ She wanted to scream. This entire conversation was like something from Dante.

      ‘You are. But there is a way for you to save yourself. And your father. And that is what I mean about you posing a dilemma for me.’

      ‘Go on.’

      ‘The lack of documentary evidence to support mine and my father’s innocence is a setback for me.’

      ‘That’s because it doesn’t exist.’

      ‘If I’m such a master forger don’t you think I would fake it?’ he demanded. ‘Your father is a meticulous record keeper. It’s out there somewhere and I will find it...or I could be persuaded to forget the whole thing. With the right incentive I could also be persuaded to destroy the evidence I copied last night rather than pass it on.’

      ‘What incentive are you talking about?’ she asked, the anger leeching out to be replaced with wariness.

      ‘I’ve held back from sending the documents to the FBI because I have a proposition to make. You and you alone can save your father from financial ruin and a hefty prison sentence.’

      ‘What does this proposition entail?’

      A smile curved his handsome face. ‘That, you will find, is the crucial question. To secure a healthy future for your father and the rest of your family, you will have to do one very simple thing—you’ll have to marry me.’

CHAPTER THREE

      GABRIELE WATCHED CLOSELY as the blood drained from Elena’s face, the light golden colour turning white. The last thing he wanted was her falling into a faint again, especially as there was no possibility of him catching her as he’d done the night before.

      It was the last thing he should have worried about. Instead of falling into a heap on the floor, she covered her mouth and burst into peals of laughter. And not just a short burst of it. Her body shook, the colour flooding back in her face.

      ‘That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,’ she said, wiping away tears of mirth with the back of her hand. ‘You want to marry me?’

      He didn’t say anything, just folded his arms across his chest and stared at her implacably.

      She must have seen something in his expression for all merriment came to an abrupt halt.

      ‘You don’t mean it? Do you? You want to marry me?’

      ‘Marry me and all your father’s financial and legal problems disappear.’

      ‘But... But that’s insane.’ She ran her fingers through her messy hair. ‘Tell me what your real proposition is.’

      ‘That’s it. I want my ring