Scandals of the Father

SCANDALS OF THE FATHER A DARK ENEMIES TO LOVERS ROMANCE CAVALIERI BILLIONAIRE LEGACY BOOK ONE ZOE BLAKE Copyright © 2023 by Zoe Blake All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Blake, Zoe Poison Ink Publications Scandals of the Father Cover Design by Dark City Designs Model Wander Aguiar Photographer Juliana Andrade CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Epilogue About Zoe Blake Also By Zoe Blake Bonus Scene CHAPTER 1 AMARA No good came from attracting the attention of a man like Barone Cavalieri. The prosecco flutes on my tray rattled as I caught sight of his glare. The Barone Cavalieri, powerful patriarch of the Cavalieri family, was staring at me. No, not staring, glaring. Shifting my gaze away, I tried to swallow past the dry fear which had turned my throat to dust. The flutes clattered again. I pressed my hand over their tops, stilling them. I inhaled a shaky breath and held it, trying to calm my racing heart. A piece of hair escaped my loose bun and tickled the side of my neck. I desperately wanted to flick it aside but was afraid to release my grip on my passing tray. Despite it being late autumn, the sultry Italian sun would not release its hot grip on our little mountain valley in Abruzzo. A bead of sweat trickled between my shoulder blades. I shrugged one shoulder, trying to relieve the icky, itching sensation on my skin. Then froze. Had my motion drawn more of his unwanted attention? I was afraid to look. What had I done wrong to warrant his glare? Internally, I rolled my eyes. Dammit, why had I agreed to work this awful wedding? Everyone in the village knew it was doomed from the start. The answer was simple. Money, of course. Stupid, completely necessary for survival money. I dared a glance out of the corner of my eye. Barone had turned away, his attention drawn by a handful of disreputable looking guests. I let out the breath I was holding. Maybe it had all been in my imagination? After all, why on earth would Barone Cavalieri be glaring at me, one of the village catering servants, at his eldest son's wedding? I mean sure, I had been friends with his youngest son at school, but that was years ago. It wasn't like our families hung out in the same circles. There were the rich as hell Cavalieris. There was everyone else below them. And at the very top was Barone Cavalieri. The man was practically a legend in his own time. Known as much for his kindness as his temper, he watched over our village like a feudal lord, harkening back to the power of his ancestors. I guessed it made sense, they even named our village after his family, who owned literally millions of acres of land across Italy and countless businesses, besides the ancestral winery that was the Cavalieri legacy. It didn't hurt that the man was also tall, imposing, and handsome as sin. Still, with that kind of power and wealth, there was always an undercurrent of treachery and fear. It was this that had me shivering in the afternoon sun. I headed inside to get more prosecco. Later, I would be expected to pass glasses of the famous, and insanely expensive, Vino Nobile di Montepulciano d'Abruzzo dei Cavalieri made from old vines dating back to the thirteenth century, but for now the guests were supposed to be drinking prosecco to celebrate the happy couple. Except nobody wanted any. Irritated, I pulled out the band holding my hair back, relieved when the tight tension eased. My best friend approached, carrying a full tray of uneaten appetizers. She lifted one poached pear half filled with creamy ricotta and drizzled with local sideritis honey and took a bite. "These are really quite tasty. A total waste on that boring crowd out there," she said after swallowing and licking her lips. "Have you ever seen a more somber and tense wedding? You'd think it was a funeral. Although it serves Enzo right for marrying such a bitc—" I gestured with my head toward Signora Rossi, our supervisor who was standing nearby, as I whispered harshly through tightly closed teeth, "Milana!" Milana's eyes widened. She tossed her tray aside so haphazardly, the contents slid over the tray lip and toppled onto the Carrara marble table surface. She swallowed a laugh. "Oops." Milana used the flat of her hand to sweep the pear halves back onto the silver passing tray. The once elegant display was now a jumbled mess of overturned pears and smeared ricotta. She turned to face me, leaning her hip against the table. She licked a drop of honey off the tip of her finger as she raised one elegantly arched eyebrow. "You think the rumors are true?" I finished wiping my tray and reached for several clean glasses. Distracted, I asked, "What rumors?" as I arranged the flutes on the tray. "You know the rumors!" She leaned in close and in a hushed, conspiratorial tone whispered, "About the father and the scandal." I lifted the green glass bottle of prosecco and carefully poured one hundred and eighty milliliters in the first flute. Oh God. Those rumors. Warmth crept up my cheeks. Barone Cavalieri's late wife, the mother of his sons Enzo and Cesare, died under mysterious circumstances over fifteen years