Kennedy & Tristan: Moretti Crime Family Novel

By Frances Paul

Be careful what you wish for!

From the author, Frances Paul comes an electrifying standalone romance thriller that breaks all the rules! Kennedy & Tristan is a suspense that will have you holding your breath as you turn each page.

In a time of war even love can change sides.

A Civil Engineer student travels to Italy to complete her studies at a prestigious university. Instead, she crosses paths with Tristan Moretti, a man whose business dealings dwell deep within the underworld--a world she never thought she'd be a part of.

But Tristan becomes a force Kennedy can't ignore. A man whose touch she can't get enough of. She knows it's dangerous. She knows falling for Tristan will lead to a lifetime of consequences. Still, she can't stay away.

Tristan has taken his father's place as head of the Moretti Family--a role he's been preparing for his whole life. He knows the kind of darkness that lurks within the shadows of his world, how it corrupts innocence, and ruins lives. But once he realizes Kennedy is the only woman he'll ever want, nothing can stop him from having her. He's determined to rule with her at his side and vows to protect her no matter the cost.

As a lethal power slithers its way into their world and shakes the very foundation of the Moretti family, Tristan and Kennedy find themselves at the edge of survival where a decision must be made.

Do they stand together and fight...or will they be torn apart and fight each other?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frances Paul
• Release date: Oct 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463183151

Frances Paul

Born and raised in Accra, Ghana and now living in Cincinnati, Ohio. A banker, wife and mother of two amazing kids. She finds writing to be a great passion of hers and a path she was born to follow. She began by writing short stories at a young age. Now, she has four published books and working on a few more projects. She's a crazy tea lover, loves to travel, eat, and enjoys learning about different cultures. Authors she is inspired by are Sidney Sheldon, Nora Roberts and Jeffrey Archer. Hope you enjoy her books as greatly as she enjoyed producing them."Don't be afraid to speak up for yourself. Keep fighting for your dreams!" ~ Gabby DouglasBooks by Frances PaulClandestine AffaireSea of ScarsA Widow's TaleKennedy & Tristan (Coming Soon)

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KENNEDY & TRISTAN (MORETTI CRIME FAMILY NOVEL)

Copyright © 2020 by Frances Paul.

All rights reserved.

First Print Edition: October 2020

Cover Design by: EllenMark Press

Formatted by: Christina D Glover

Audiobook performed by: Olivia Jannesson

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www.francespaul.com

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

Caution: this novel contains acts of violence and highly recommended for 18 years and older!

Note from the author

Kennedy and Tristan was my first book and published in 2016 in two parts (Life Intertwined and Unraveled). I decided to re-edit and republish this novel because I was new to the industry at the time of publication and made several rookie mistakes—blunders many new authors encounter.

The broad knowledge I acquired to date aided me through the process of recreating this new delightful fiction.

The aforementioned book is dedicated to all the loyal readers I have earned over the last few years.

Happy reading!

PART ONE

"Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception."

― Niccolò Machiavelli, THE PRINCE (1513)

1

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SHE BARGED INTO the room, breathless and eager to unveil her good news, Kenny, Kenny, it's finally here.

Kennedy was halfway into her afternoon nap and not thrilled by the disruption. She reluctantly opened one eye to acknowledge her younger sister, Kiara, whom they affectionately called Kiki or Kiks for short.

The Phillips family resided in Panama City. Mr. and Mrs. Phillips were deeply rooted in the community and had been for the last twenty-four years. Mrs. Martina Phillips, a German descent and Mr. Robert Phillips, an African American, moved to Panama from Boston in the eighties. At the time, they were only dating. They met when Martina was an exchange student, studying engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Robert was a senior then. The year she graduated, Robert's employers in Boston offered him a life-changing opportunity in Panama. It was an exciting time for the young couple. Life was rich and full of possibilities.

For the girls, growing up in a conservative home with parents from diverse backgrounds was challenging yet intriguing. Martina's most crucial duty was teaching proper German values to the girls, and Robert worked hard to educate them on their African heritage. They had a beautiful childhood. Her girls, Kennedy and Kiara, were born and raised in Panama. Only a year apart in age, they had a very close relationship.

Oddly enough, Kiara was the complete opposite of Kennedy. She was energetic, dynamic, and spontaneous. An explorer of many cultures, a passion she inherited from her father. Kennedy was more career-driven and focused on achieving her set goals. They were raised strict Catholics. One rule both Martina and Robert abided by. In addition to their numerous family vacations abroad, they spent most of their free time volunteering in churches. The girls were expected by their religious parents to act and live by the teachings of the church. Mr. and Mrs. Phillips had yet to miss a service, meeting, or social gathering.

Robert's sole ambition in life was to be an engineer, a Civil Engineer, to be precise. He claimed to have known his fate at a very young age. He was right because he was living his dream. The family lived in an upper-middle-class neighborhood. A neighborhood mostly occupied by expatriates from all over the world. Most of their neighbors worked in the same company as Robert. To both girls, it was tedious at times.

Together as a family, they've toured many countries, thanks to Robert's passion for traveling. In a way, Kennedy delighted in her father's fixation. Having the opportunity to experience life from different views was a privilege not easily obtained.

Martina Phillips was a homemaker. With an introvert personality, she never allowed herself to grow close to anyone. She made a few friends over the years and socialized with fellow churchgoers but never nurtured a personal relationship with anyone other than her husband and children. She found happiness in other means such as gardening and home designing. She every so often offered her expertise to the new expats moving into the neighborhood. In their world, many have come and gone. Contracts ended, people moved on, and others moved in. Perhaps, that played a part in Martina's antisocial personality. What was the point of getting close to someone, only for them to move away?

Martina solely used her passion as a hobby. She could afford to since Robert was successful in his career.

Kennedy took time off after graduating high school and started college a year and a half later, studying Civil Engineering. As one would expect, following in her parent's engineering footsteps. Her initial plan was to relocate and study abroad. A dream she had had for many years. After waiting for a year without successfully securing a place in the universities and countries of her choosing, she decided to remain in Panama but continued to pursue her dream. Her search turned out to be challenging as she aimed to get into the best engineering institution the world had to offer.

Martina and Robert, of course, were not thrilled about her decision to flee the nest. Moreover, Robert had a saying, "the universe is full of wonderful opportunities, and you should never limit yourself to mediocrity." Kennedy often recited it back to him each time he tried to oppose her decision. Her stubborn mind was made up, and nothing would change it. Her decision did come as a surprise because they expected that from Kiara, the sister with the adventurous spirit. When they realized they had lost the battle to convince her otherwise, they started to persuade Kiara to not follow her sister’s example, but that was fruitless. Her mind was already set on Spain.

Kennedy applied to multiple colleges on two continents. Europe and Asia. She received letters each week―a few yeses along with nos. She had her heart set on Italy. All she required was one approval letter from a prestigious University in Italy, and she would be on her way.

Kenny, Kenny, Kiara's unrelenting calls persisted.

I can hear you, Kiks. Kennedy groaned, burying her head under the pillows.

It is finally here. Italy..., she waved an envelope in the air.

You are kidding, right? Kennedy's heart leaped with high expectations. She sprung out of bed, lurching toward her younger sister.

Let me see that, she snatched the envelope from her hands.

It was a big white envelope, which symbolized an acceptance. Rejections usually came in one flimsy envelope. She pulled the flaps of the jacket open, without confirming if the postage was indeed Italian. At the top of the document was the name and crest of her number one choice in Florence, Italy. The University of Florence – School of Engineering. Below it read, Miss Kennedy Elise Phillips, we are pleased to inform you…In that instant, Kennedy knew she was about to embark on a journey that seemed like an unrealistic dream just a few years ago. She sprinted from the room, with Kiara right on her heels in search of their mother and found her in the living room preparing for a farewell party for Robert's colleague, whose tenure with the company had ended.

I got in, Mom. I got accepted into one of my first choice schools. Kennedy yelled. A year ago, she received a letter of rejection from this institution but continued to pursue it, and finally, she was in―she made it.

Martina's eyes widened in surprise, filled with instant joy, oh, my baby, I am so proud of you. I knew you were going to get in. You were worried for no reason. Let me see that, she dropped a pair of scissors on the coffee table and took the letter out of Kennedy's hands.

Your father would be pleased. Well, a bit worried yet delighted all the same. I still wish you chose a German school. Nonetheless, I am proud of you, honey. Martina pulled her into a tight hug. Her nightmare was playing before her eyes―losing her baby girl to the world. Her entire life revolved around her girls, and now, they were women, ready to start their own lives, and where did that leave her?

It's not too late for me, Mom, said Kiara, oblivious to her mother's inner turmoil.

No, young lady, you are staying put. I can't have all my babies out there alone.

We will be fine, Mom, Kennedy assured her with a sad grin.

That was the easy part. Telling Robert would be the hardest.

* * *

I get it, father, but I am tired. I've tried to see and accept things your way, but I cannot. I am ready to do my duty and play an essential role in the family business. I need this, and I can't believe you still insist I wait while Amedeo and Fausto take over what rightfully belongs to me. Tristan voiced his discontent.

Tristan, I am not choosing your brother and cousin over you. Running a business is not as easy as it may seem. You are clueless about so many aspects of this organization. What I have decided is final. You will join your cousin, Fausto, in the construction sector as a board member and VP of Operations. Amedeo will continue as the CEO of Moretti Shipping while managing our other subsidiaries. The vineyard is under your control. I chose Amedeo as my successor not because he is the first or favored son, but simply because he possesses the patience and the knowledge it requires. Agostino Moretti narrowed his eyes at his son, willing him to accept his decision without further protest.

Tristan Moretti was the second child of Agostino and Cosima Moretti. The youngest was Gianna and the oldest son, Amedeo. The Moretti family had quite a reputation in Italy and parts of Europe, with stakes in almost every legitimate corporation. They also had a criminal background, a reputation Agostino had been working tirelessly to part with. Nevertheless, the Moretti name was still respected and feared in the underworld.

Tristan Moretti did most of the dirty work. He was what they call the 'button man,' playing the role of the muscle for many years and now ready to part ways with his violent past and assume the role of a well-respected businessman in the corporate world. Unfortunately, his father did not share the same views. Agostino preferred him in the streets doing his dirty work as he had been doing for the past eight years. This position of VP in his construction firm felt like a punch in the face.

His cousin, Fausto, from his father's side, runs the construction firm. Fausto, unlike Tristan, was calm and levelheaded. At thirty-five years old, he had accomplished more than many of his peers. Married, with a three-year-old son, and lived lavishly in one of the condominiums owned by Moretti Construction in Florence. He studied architecture and design in the university, so one could say he was the whole package.

Tristan dropped out of college in Switzerland in his second year. He figured that life was not for him. He possessed talents in other areas such as wet work, a euphemism for murder. Fausto and Tristan nurtured a close relationship despite the five-year age gap and personality differences. Unlike the nonexistent relationship, Tristan had with his brother, Amedeo. Tristan and Amedeo's relationship was once compared to that of Cain and Abel. They had been butting heads since childhood. Tristan held a deep animosity in his heart for his older brother because of his unique relationship with their father. Though Agostino had not formally declared it, Amedeo was his preferred choice for an heir. The cherished son. No one in the family dared to disobey or go against Agostino. He was the head, and his word was final.

So, we agree on this? said Agostino.

Yes, father, whatever you say. Tristan murmured to himself with repugnance.

Agostino ignored the disdain in his voice, Your mother is having one of her traditional family dinner parties tonight, make sure you show up. He picked up a few documents off his oak desk and thumbed through them, avoiding eye contact with his son.

We have a meeting with Leonardo and Luca tonight; I might be a little late. Tristan promptly stood up. Leonardo and Luca Lorenzi were family friends and business partners. Their father, Piero Lorenzi and Agostino had been close friends for many years. Luca and Tristan shared similar theories about life. Their similarities kept them close. They also bonded over the fact that they were not the chosen heirs to their families' fortune. They enjoyed the nightlife and pursued the same type of women. Luca was headstrong, just like Tristan, and both tremendously ambitious. Their families nicknamed the duo' partners in crime.'

Leonardo Lorenzi was more or less like Amedeo Moretti. His sole aim was serving his father until he took over. The Lorenzi family owned a few shipping companies in the country, and of course, the Moretti family owned a piece of it.

Just be sure to show up. You know how your mother gets, Agostino sharply added.

Yes, sir. Disappointed by the fruitless meeting, Tristan walked out of his office.

2

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Five months later.

KIKI, I NEED help with packing. It's harder than I thought it'd be. Kennedy peered into her sister's bedroom.

You can always leave them behind. You are on your way to Italy, the land of high-fashion. Kiara responded without making an attempt to get out of bed.

Yeah, right. You know I'm on a strict budget. I can only afford clothes from thrift stores. This is the price I pay for growing up. Kennedy scowled.

Well, look on the bright side, you get to meet some really sexy Italian men, from what I hear, they are hot. I mean, sizzling hot. I envy you. Kiara chortled, finally jumping out of bed.

Hm, you are right, that was part of the criteria I used to find the best schools. Kennedy offered her a lopsided smile.

Ladies, lunch is ready. You haven't packed? You have two days left, you better be ready. Martina stood in front of Kennedy's bedroom, which was adjacent to Kiara's.

I will be, Mom, as soon as I figure out how to pack all my clothes into just three suitcases. I cannot decide what to take and what to leave behind. Besides, I don't want Kiks in my stuff when I'm gone, so I need to do this strategically. Feeling Kiara’s glowing eyes on her, Kennedy walked away with a chuckle.

Yeah, sure, good luck with that, Kiara responded, trailing right behind her.

Come on, Dad is waiting, said Martina.

As always, Robert sat at the head of the dining table, waiting for the women. Since tomorrow is Kenny's last full day with us, I thought perhaps we spend the day in Las Cumbres. He said the instant they all sat around the table.

Kennedy loved their vacation home in Las Cumbres. A lakefront condominium, Robert purchased two years prior. On a good day, the drive was approximately forty-five minutes from home. Robert usually referred to it as his bachelor pad, a place he went to enjoy some peace away from his hectic life. He wouldn't admit to it, but from the women.

I got Pedro to cater to us all day. We can relax and enjoy each other's company before our princess departs. Robert grinned at his first-born daughter.

I love this idea, Dad, Pedro is awesome. I will miss his cooking. Kennedy said, almost pouting.

It is settled then.

The rest of that afternoon was spent packing Kennedy's bags and ensuring school registration, and traveling documents were all ready and intact.

* * *

Even though the distance from home was not vast, Kennedy had not been to Las Cumbres in almost a year. The locality was conveniently calm and serene. An excellent location for a romantic getaway, she thought. They spent the early afternoon bonding over brunch; Kiara did not hesitate to fill them in on issues regarding her university. She was a freshman at the University of Panama. One thing Kennedy would not miss about her younger sibling was her ability to exaggerate every minor incident.

Take a walk with me, Kennedy. I will get Coco and meet you outside. Martina said to Kennedy after brunch. Coco was the family dog, a white Maltese. She was undeniably the most beautiful dog they had ever owned. Kennedy wished she could smuggle him out of the country.

Yes, Mom, I will change into something decent and meet you outside. Kennedy expected this to happen before her flight. A long lecture about values, right from wrong and Christianity. She prepared for it.

Martina stood under an old mango tree in a light green conservative dress with a red and gold silk scarf thrown around her neck. In her right hand was Coco's chain. The beautiful Maltese walked in circles, entertaining herself with a housefly. She barked twice, wiggling her fluffy tail in exhilaration.

Hey, Mom, Kennedy said, smiling down at the dog.

Martina started to move toward the gate, and Kennedy followed suit.

I know I have always been hard on you girls, but I need you to know that I am very proud of the woman you are becoming. I am not worried about you being by yourself in a foreign land because I know I have raised a responsible girl, and she will make sound decisions. However, do not hesitate to call me whether day or night when you have a problem. I am your mother, and believe me when I say I know exactly what you are feeling this instant. Moving to a strange land with no family or friends. You will do just fine, and this will be the best experience of your life. Just do me a favor, baby, and look out for dubious characters. Do not trust too easily, but be open-minded. Go out on dates, enjoy every moment of it, and make the best of this experience. Don't forget your upbringing and the teachings of the church. Say your prayers each night before bed, thanking him for His mercies. He'll shield you, just as he has done all your life. Do not lose your way. Focus on why you are there, and you will come out victorious. Daddy and I are very proud of you. Please take good care of yourself.

Her words moved Kennedy to tears; she expected to hear her usual don't do this or that tirade. Martina was right. She was anxious to find out what awaited her on the other side of the globe. She had never been away from home―not without her family. It was exciting, at the same time, terrifying. Kennedy embraced her mother while tears streamed down their faces. The separation was agonizing for both mother and daughter.

I love you, Mom, and I truly appreciate you. There was more she wanted to say but was unable to speak through her choked tears.

I know, sweetheart. Martina pressed her lips to her forehead.

* * *

Listen, Calixto, this deal I have with you is only temporary, and it has nothing to do with my family. If you screw me over, I promise you, you will not live to see another day. Tristan yelled into the phone before pulling it away from his ear and sighing deeply to calm his raging nerves. He was starting to regret going into business with Calixto. He was a decent businessman but never flew straight. Luca and Tristan decided a few months ago to go into business together without their fathers' endorsements. Unlike Amedeo and Leonardo, they did not require their ratification to succeed in life. They planned to open nightclubs in Florence, Venice, and Genoa. Calixto was the man with all the connections they required to make this project a success. His job was to oversee contracts between Tristan and Luca and the property owners, obtain the necessary permits such as alcohol licenses and employing staff. Unprincipled as he had always been, he frequently sought for more money than he initially said he'd need. No matter how much he received, he kept coming back with a different story.

If I find out you are taking advantage of us, Cal and believe me, I will, you'll be sorry, Tristan warned in a calm tone.

I am not, Tristan, and you know it. This is a complicated project as we are opening all three clubs at the same time. I need Twenty-Thousand Euros to pay off some taxes. Calixto continued to get under his skin.

Alright, I will have Luca drop it off tonight. Give me a call when it's all set. Tristan rubbed his temple softly.

Will do.

They clicked off.

Tristan's phone went off once more, and this time it was Fausto. Hey, we have an emergency board meeting at four today. I meant to inform you earlier, but you know my hectic schedule. It entirely slipped my mind.

That's fine; I should be there in a few, said Tristan.

* * *

Tristan's apartment was befittingly fifteen minutes from the office. When he arrived, he ambled straight into the office, Mira, Fausto's wife, had decked out for him. He hadn't used the office much as he was always on the road conducting both official and unofficial business. He skimmed through the new contracts, the construction firm signed with a mining company to build new offices in Perugia and Brescia. The board meeting was to establish funding and liquidity. As he entered the packed room, he observed all twelve board members, including Fausto, who sat at the head of the table. Fausto nodded in his direction, a signal for him to take the seat beside him. This would be his first board meeting after assuming the role of a board member and VP of Operations three weeks prior.

Now that we are all here, I'd like to begin by introducing Mr. Schmidt and Mr. Fischer to the board. Fausto began the meeting by diving directly into business. With non-members present, there was no need to go over the minutes of their last meeting. Tristan scarcely looked to his right to acknowledge the two German businessmen he missed when he walked in.

Schmidt here is the CEO of Vale Mining and Fischer, the CFO. We have finally outlined and established the vital particulars of the contract and signed it this morning. Construction, as we are all aware, is set to complete within two years. We met with the bankers this morning to finalize their funding needs. The loan facility would be disbursed in three phases. We have all the documents to that effect. This project will earn us a profit of roughly Eight Million Euros, Fausto announced proudly.

As he went on and on about the finances, Tristan scanned the men's faces in the room, analyzing each member of the board. All the faces were unfamiliar, obviously, because he had little to no knowledge about the company. Hell, he wouldn't be able to recite the company's mission statement if he were asked. He started to agree with his father's analysis. He was not prepared. There was a lot of work to be done here. At the end of the meeting, Fausto introduced him to the members. They knew who he was, but Fausto still felt the need to make a formal introduction. Tristan spent part of his afternoon with the members going over recent stock activities, and new and existing projects before finally leaving the boardroom at three p.m.

After the meeting, he went back into his newly furnished office and dialed Luca's number.

Hey! Luca greeted.

Your man needs more money, Tristan said.

How much this time? Luca released a sigh of frustration, Tristan understood too well.

Twenty-five.

Son of a bitch.

Tristan chuckled, You want to drop it off, or should I?

I got it. You will kill him. Luca scoffed.

It's the price of doing business.

I guess. Later.

They clicked off.

Regardless of the minor setback, they were all set to open the first club in Florence. Tristan micromanaged the interior designing project, and it came out exactly how he had envisioned it―remarkable. Tristan named the club in Florence, The Whiskey Bar. Luca named Venice's, The Underworld, and they both agreed to name Genoa's Plush.

Tristan was yet to announce his business plans to the family. Most importantly, his father, though he suspected he already knew. Moreover, he didn't feel the need to, as it was not under his banner, but tonight he would.

3

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KENNEDY ARRIVED IN Italy on a gloomy afternoon; the skies were tar black with thick gray clouds. She leaned her head against the window of the school transportation that fetched her from the airport and listened to the rain pitter-patter against the window. Staring out, she observed in amusement as people galloped for shelter. Young ladies in stilettos trying to balance on their heels without making a fool of themselves. A thrill of excitement chased through Kennedy's veins.

Despite the melancholy gloomy weather, the day was beautiful. At long last, she made it to the country of her dreams. She savored the exciting butterflies fluttering in her tummy. She was eager to arrive at the campus and her new home for the next three or more years. Importantly, she looked forward to meeting her new roommate. She only hoped she was not some sort of freak. Even though she was excited to begin this new chapter of her life, she was afraid and felt vulnerable and lonely. For a second at the airport, she questioned her decision.

As the car pulled onto college grounds, she started to feel more at ease. The campus was colossal. It appeared more substantial than she saw in pictures online. The architecture represented the rich Italian culture―vintage and monumental. They drove past the School of Arts, which was shaped like a cathedral. Kennedy drew in a deep breath, taking it all in small doses. She couldn't believe this was home for the next few years. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the student housing approximately ten miles from the main campus and, according to the driver only three miles from the School of Engineering campus, where she'd spend most of her time.

The building was made from gray wood shingles and glass-brick fascia. It was shaped like a vessel. Modern, yet had a futuristic touch to it. Lanes of shops and boutiques stretched down a narrow street. Kennedy looked down the empty streets and sidewalks, analyzing its potential. The building's concierge stepped out with an umbrella upon their arrival. He handed it to her while he fetched her bags from the trunk. In silence, she perused the interior design as they made their way to her dormitory. The halls of the residence were quiet and empty. Where were the residents? They couldn't be at lectures, not until the semester begins on Monday. They were probably seeking out shelter elsewhere due to the rain. The inside was just as remarkable as the exterior. The floors were black stone, polished to a shine and elegant. There was a terrace access to her right where she stood, with great exposure.

Several photographs of former students were displayed on the walls above the staircase. Some went as back as 1343. That intrigued Kennedy. The university had had a diversity of students over the centuries. She viewed the photographs closely, telling herself that someday hers would be up there for new students to admire.

Her unit comprised of two-room blocks situated east and west of the central courtyard and connected by two long and parallel corridors. Her dorm was on the eastside, room E-285, located at the end of the long hallway. The concierge handed her a set of keys and stepped back for her to do the honors. She opened the door into an open floor plan room with two antique wooden beds facing each other. Desks sat on either side. The bathroom was situated next to the sliding doors, leading to a small balcony. A dull red and dark gray rug separated the two beds.

Kennedy stood in the middle of the empty dormitory taking in her new home. She noticed her roommate had already arrived and marked her territory. The concierge dropped her bags next to the naked bed and smiled kindly at her, first thing tomorrow morning check with the front desk at the administration office for your class schedule.

Thanks again. Kennedy offered him a smile instead of a tip. She didn't believe that rule applied here.

She settled in and waited anxiously for her mysterious roomie to return. It was almost six o'clock in the evening when she finally walked through the door. She was a pretty girl with medium length soft blonde hair, long dark eyelashes, and rosy, plump cheeks.

She greeted Kennedy with a sincere smile as she sat her purse on her bed, Hi, I'm Sara.

Kennedy, but you can call me, Kenny.

With I or Y?

Y.

Nice to meet you, Kenny, with a Y.

Both ladies grinned.

When did you arrive? said Kennedy, carefully studying her.

Two days ago. I like to settle in before everyone else arrives. Sara laughed.

You are a sophomore, right?

Sara nodded, same as you.

So, this would be your second year living here in this housing unit.

Yup.

What happened to your former roommate then?

That'd be my sister, Evie―graduated last semester. She is in Perth now working at a pharmaceutical company.

Oh, that's pretty cool.

Not really, she was domineering, just like my parents. I am looking forward to a new semester without her. Sara laughed, I don't plan on living here until I graduate, though.

Why? Kennedy asked.

Evie enjoyed campus life. She wanted to experience every part of it. I need my freedom. Privacy, you know?

Do you plan on getting an apartment or something?

Yes, as soon as I can convince my paranoid parents that I'm capable of taking care of myself. They fear for me, you know? Especially after the death of a foreign student in Rome.

The American? said Kennedy.

Sara nodded solemnly.

Yes, I heard about that. That was sad. admitted Kennedy.

Right! Perhaps after this semester, I can persuade them.

They sound like my parents.

We are forever their babies.

Forever, unfortunately. Kennedy chuckled.

It's pretty cool here, everyone basically keeps to themselves. I spent the day in the library. Getting a head start on the reading materials for the term. Got stranded, thanks to the rain.

I figured, said Kennedy.

Yeah, a few students arrived last night and today. Sara sat on her bed, folding her knees underneath her to fully face Kennedy. Where are you from, Kenny?

Panama.

I have never met anyone from Panama. It's an honor and a relief that you are friendly and pretty.

I thought so about you too.

They shared a smile.

What about you? British, Canadian, or Australian?

It's my accent, isn't it? Gives me away. Australian. Sara beamed with pride.

Of course, Australian. Your sister is in Perth. What program? asked Kennedy in a probing voice.

Clinical Psychology.

Remarkable. I will definitely need your services from time to time.

They both chuckled.

You?

Civil Engineering. Architecture and planning.

Yikes. I didn't take you for the nerdy kind. Sara's eyes widened.

That's hardly nerdy, compared to clinical psychology. Laughing, Kennedy jumped off her bed and resumed unpacking her bags, It's not as bad as it sounds.

Well, you get the contract to design my clinic someday.

We better shake on that.

For the next few weeks, Sara and Kennedy were inseparable. They came to a pleasing realization that they had a lot in common, which was incredible as they were from the opposite sides of the globe—the same tastes in clothes, music, drinks, and ambition. Most of the students in their residence and on-campus kept to themselves as Sara explained to Kennedy on her first night. There were a handful of international students. They made an effort to interact with them regularly by joining an exclusive club for foreign students. They were yet to explore the city of Florence.

* * *

Tonight was the opening night of The Whiskey Bar. The expected crowd exceeded their expectations. Tristan admitted to himself that Calixto was indeed the man of the hour. After all their bickering, he came through significantly. Earlier this week, he discussed his new business venture with the old man, who seemed surprisingly supportive.

The Whiskey Bar was a sophisticated hangout for the elite crowd. The who's who of the Tuscany Region. The security team at the front entrance was threatening. Impossible to penetrate. Membership passes were only available to the A-listers in the country. Even though the partnership was 60/40, Tristan being the majority owner, Luca was the face of all three clubs. Tristan considered himself a silent partner. However, he did have an office in the Florence club, a place he intended to use for his other businesses.

Family and close friends showed up in numbers to render their support. Piero Lorenzi, Luca's father, and Agostino showed up to surprise the boys. So did Amedeo, Leonardo, Gianna and her husband, Carl. If anyone wanted to take down the family, that would have been the perfect night.

You finally put your money where your mouth is, Amedeo said, walking into Tristan's private office on the second floor.

I guess I did. Tristan rose from behind his polished mahogany desk and walked over to the minibar to pour them a drink.

I must say, this is impressive. Have you seen the women down there, man? And your female staff, some hot collection.

Don't even think about it. Tristan warned with a scowl, look at this, he picked up a bottle of Macallan V6 Malt Whiskey.

Holy shit. Amedeo leaped out of his seat.

Yeah, I knew you'd like that.

Amedeo took the bottle and poured two glasses.

To good health and wealth. Amedeo toasted as they clinked glasses.

You know, you might not see it now, but I have worked on a lot of business plans, and this place will make a killing. The concept and location is a capital booster. And you have two more―a brilliant move, brother. I'm impressed.

I believe you. Tristan walked back to his seat. So, what's been going on with you? We haven't spoken in a minute.

Amedeo shrugged, walking back to his seat across from Tristan, What else is new, Tristan? Just playing the part of father's puppet.

It's a good thing, no? You are going to be the head of this family one day. You shouldn't worry too much about serving him now.

The final outcome outweighs the hustle, right? Amedeo smiled to himself, taking a big gulp of his favorite whiskey.

Right! Tristan narrowed his eyes, You know, we can always talk if you need, right? I mean, if something is weighing on your mind.

I am the eldest. I should be telling you that, Amedeo chastised and gulped down the rest of his drink, Come on, let us join father downstairs. Your private rooms are impressive. Tastefully designed and exquisite workmanship. You did the same with the other clubs? Amedeo slickly changed the topic, knowing where it might lead.

Yes, mostly. I head to Venice for the opening in a few weeks. If you are in the country, you should come along. Tristan offered.

Sounds like a plan.

Tristan followed and studied his brother thoroughly. There was something not quite right with him. Amedeo was skilled at keeping secrets, but Tristan could always see through his bullshit. He had for years, and Amedeo hated it. Downstairs in the club, they run into Gianna on their way to the private room to rejoin the other members of the family. She appeared tipsy. She grabbed on to Tristan's neck and forced a kiss on his face.

I love this place, Tristan, she slightly slurred her words, And the music is amazing. She shrieked.

Thanks, love. Tristan grabbed her waist and led her to the private room.

* * *

After a successful opening, Luca and Tristan turned their sole focus on the Venice and Genoa clubs. They were once again on Calixto's neck. They recognized his talent and knew he would deliver but found delight in intimidating him to keep him on his toes.

Tristan stayed in Venice for a week to open the club, which turned out to be a success, just like The Whiskey Bar. He was all set to return to Florence tonight and, in a few days, off to Genoa for the opening of Plush. The Moretti Villa was situated in Veneto, a quiet side of Venice, built on 118 small islands that were separated by canals and linked by bridges and boat traffic. Tristan opted to stay in a hotel close to the club, a decision he made for convenience. His hotel door swung open, and Brando, his chief bodyguard, marched in.

The driver is here, sir. He announced.

I will be right out. Tristan fetched his phone, vibrating inside the pocket of his black jacket.

Marco. His voice was sharper than intended.

Something came up on my radar, Marco said.

Damn it, Marco. What happened? Tristan straightened his back.

This just came in. My men picked up on something regarding Amedeo. Apparently, he has allied himself with the Bernardinos. This has been going on for some time. I don't know how we missed it, sir. As you are aware, Interpol has active surveillance on the Bernardino family, and now that Amedeo is involved with them, it puts a spotlight on the Morettis.

Fuck! Tristan mumbled under his breath.

Now, we know they have a relationship, but we do not know to what extent, however, I will dig deeper into the matter, Marco added.

I will need all the facts, Marco, before I take this on.

I'm on it, Marco assured steadfastly.

Tristan clicked off. Stunned by the phone call, he sat at the edge of the bed and pondered. This cannot be happening now. He knew in his gut that there was something wrong. Amedeo was supposed to accompany him to Venice but excused himself at the last minute with a weak apology. Was Agostino aware of this? He couldn't possibly know. He had been working diligently for years to clean up their reputation as a notorious crime family. This would set them back several years. He knew for sure that there was bad blood between Agostino Moretti and Pascoal Bernardino, head of the Bernardino family. So how did Amedeo end up there? One hell of a mystery, he decided.

* * *

Marco's unpleasant phone call weighed heavily on Tristan's conscience for the next couple of days. While he hanged on patiently for more information, he paid closer attention to his brother. He had developed an antidote to Tristan's ability to easily see through him. Nobody in the family had a clue what he had been up to, and that included Tristan, which was unsettling as he made it his business to monitor everyone, including their father. For Amedeo's sake, Tristan hoped for once Marco's information was incorrect.

Venice and Genoa clubs were officially operating, just like The Whiskey Bar. As predicted, both clubs generated a high profit on opening night. Tristan had a substantial amount of dirty money needing to be cleaned through the system, and what better way to do this than through the clubs. He excelled at what he did, and there was no way to trace his evil deeds. The officials tried and failed for many years.

He was back in Venice for the weekend. The club was filled with wealthy patrons and countless gorgeous women. He sat alone at the bar, analyzing each living soul that walked through the front door. Luca stayed in Florence, overseeing The Whiskey Bar while Calixto traveled to Genoa for the weekend.

A beautiful dark-haired woman caught his attention amid the thick crowd. He studied her narrowly as she confidently strolled toward the bar. Her hips swayed in a rhythm he appreciated. Her body-hugging black dress molded to her soft curves with absolute perfection. He watched her keenly until a small smile curved his lips. Her confidence heightened her beauty. He felt his dick hardening and knew he had to have her. Catching his eye in the mirror, she continued until she was standing next to the empty stool beside him. She placed her tiny black purse on the bar counter and signaled to the bar attendant. Tristan turned to face her, and she met his gaze with her alluring light brown eyes. He was amazed by how stunning she appeared up close. Julius, the bar attendant, approached her with a smile. Tristan relished in her beauty. Her dress, which fit her like it was drawn on her body, was curved low enough to reveal the soft curves of her breasts. Her long dark hair lay smoothly on her back. The faint scent of her perfume wafted in the air around him.

Drink?

Apple martini. She said.

She turned her attention back to Tristan while Julius prepared her order.

I'm Arianne. She smiled. Her smile was seductive.

Tristan nodded his response. He knew the game, understood the rules. She would be in his bed by the end of the night.

Her expression was casual, but her eyes were calculating. She was on a mission. You are going to tell me your name? She asked.

At present, his distrust antenna was up. He usually sensed potential red flags anytime a man or woman approached him and acted too friendly or over-confident.

He studied her narrowly, deciding whether to engage her in a conversation. After a few awkward beats, he said, Tristan.

Cute name.

Cute?

She smiled, giving a light shrug of her shoulders.

The bartender placed a martini glass before her and poured the green liquid into the stylish glass, completing the masterpiece by dropping a cherry into the liquid.

Put that on the house, Tristan ordered him.

Yes, sir.

Are you the manager or something? Arianne asked, intrigued by his alpha male demeanor.

You can say that.

Sounds interesting.

Why is that? He studied her face at close range, wondering if the pride between her gorgeous long legs was as sweet as her face.

I don't know. She chuckled and tucked a loose strand behind her ear.

I'm visiting Venice for the weekend. She offered something personal about herself to tame the awkwardness between them.

I suppose you live here? She asked.

You can say that. Tristan took a slow sip of his whiskey.

Where are you from? He said without granting her another glance.

Spain, but I'm a student in Florence.

Ah, I see. said Tristan.

Arianne went on about her love for Italy and her reasons behind choosing to study in this peninsular stretch of land that was surrounded by the Mediterranean Sea. He kept his responses short until he was convinced she wasn't a threat. Taking in his rich cologne and handsome features, she suddenly felt the need to be close to him. His enigmatic demeanor captivated her. She indiscreetly moved her stool closer to his. Tristan trapped her in his gaze, watching her cagily through the mirror behind the bar.

So tell me, how is life in Venice? She said in a much softer tone.

I wouldn't know.

Oh? Thought you lived here. Being the club manager and all. Her feelers for spotting a catch were potent tonight. She sensed he was more significant than he portrayed himself to be, and that notion motivated her.

Tristan turned to meet her anxious gaze, you ask a lot of questions, Arianne.

Just curious.

Arianne went through some soul-searching before approaching him. When she walked into the exquisite club with her girls, the first man she saw was the handsome, mysterious man in a dark suit seated at the bar. She watched him. Studied his manners and knew she wanted him. He reminded her of a GQ model, handsome, well-dressed, and smooth. He was probably waiting for a woman. A man like him wouldn't be alone. Arianne had decided.

Just go up to him and talk to him. One of her girlfriends said. It ought to be easy. She was an attractive woman, and men fell over themselves to talk to her. She knew it wouldn't be challenging to have him swooning all over her, plus she excelled at initiating small talk with strangers. So why the idea of approaching this man seem so overwhelming?

Be careful, you know what they say about curiosity, said Tristan.

Her eyes sparkled with keen interest. That was typical of most women, Tristan thought. They were drawn to danger―the unknown. He never understood that and hoped to only have sons. He had had his fill of women due to his mysterious demeanor and, of course, his handsome looks he inherited from his old man.

You came to the club by yourself? He scowled.

She shoved another stray strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit, Tristan had already picked up on. She was easy to read.

No, I didn't. I came with my girlfriends. They are over there in the red couch, she pointed to a group of three girls. I must confess, I didn't meet you by chance. I noticed you the moment we arrived and approached you, well after studying you to ensure you weren't waiting for anyone. I know, it's weird. She shyly looked away from his daunting stare.

She seemed innocent enough, he decided. Yet, he continued to keep his guard up for precautionary measures.

I can leave you alone if you want. She offered.

Why would you think that?

You seem somewhat detached. Perhaps, you want to be alone with your thoughts. She blushed, using the passive-aggressive approach.

I appreciate your company, Arianne. Tristan softened his stance. He gestured to the bartender to refill her glass.

After an hour of trying to seduce him with her words and charm, he was painfully reminded of how late it was and desperately needed to catch a few hours of sleep before his early morning flight to Florence. He nodded at Gino, one of his bodyguards, who had been watching Arianne like a hawk all night.

Get the car, Tristan told him.

Sorry, sweetheart, I need to be on my way. He stood, and she followed suit.

What? Was my company that terrible? She attempted a joke.

He thought to himself for a moment and said, We can continue this at my hotel. If you would like.

She bit her lower lip and met his gaze, Yes! She accepted, her eyes smoky with female sensuality, Let me just say goodbye to my friends.

He nodded his approval.

She joined him moments later in front of the club. Observing her underneath the bright lights was refreshing. Her beauty was conspicuous in every way. He grinned, holding out his hand to her. She took it immediately. Gino opened the backseat door of his black Maserati, but Tristan shook his head.

I will drive, join Brando. He dismissed his bodyguard and opened the front passenger seat door for Arianne, whose eyes were now beaming with interest.

What did you say you do again? She asked the moment Tristan jumped into the driver's seat and put the car in drive. He ignored the question and turned on the radio to drown out her queries.

Eric Clapton’s smooth voice flowed through the speakers, softening the mood. The drive took a turn for the better when Arianne decided to elevate her flirting abilities. She discarded her seat belt and moved closer to Tristan. Without warning, she started to leave a trail of soft kisses along his neck while rubbing his inner thighs and unfastening his pants.

Tristan gripped her wrist to stop her.

What are you doing? He asked.

Come on. I want to make you feel good. She fluttered her lashes at him, before leaning closer to touch his lips with hers.

Get back in your seat, sweetheart. There is more time for that. He denied her access to such close intimacy only designed for couples in love and not one night stands.

Why wait. She smiled, her cheeks tinged with a sexy flush.

She pulled her hand from his grip and unzipped his pants. Her face was in his lap in an instant. Tristan's rigid body relaxed as she pulled his package and teased him with her tongue.

She started with the tip, kissing it lightly, then gained momentum, till he was fully buried in her throat. Her unmatched skills caused Tristan to groan with appreciation. He knew there was something special about her. She suddenly stopped, glanced up at him, wearing a wicked smile, then resumed to pleasure him. It felt as though she were toothless. No woman had ever met his expectations as she did. He managed to maintain his speed at sixty miles per hour to prevent crashing into a ditch. She continued for a good ten minutes while he did his best not to discharge on his custom-made leather seat.

You like that? She whispered as she moved back into her seat, licking her lips to savor his taste.

Impressive! He winked, pulling up his fly. He increased his speed to ninety miles per hour, en-route to his hotel to devour the free meal.

Upon arrival, Tristan tossed the car keys to Gino, his bodyguard, who drove behind them in a black SUV with two other guards and took her up to his room. He pushed her against the wall and proceeded to shed her panties, but discovered to his surprise, there were none. He really liked this broad.

You are a bad girl, aren't you? He whispered in her ears.

I can be anything you need me to be.

My bad girl. He squeezed her bottom in his palm, before easing a finger inside her, sending her over the edge.

He pulled her off the wall, tossed her on the bed, and grabbed a rubber from the top drawer of the bedside table. He pushed into her with ease, long and deep. His thrusts were measured yet forceful, full of raw hunger. He craved the distraction―the feel of a woman to help him through his collision of damning thoughts.

After pounding in and out of her for several minutes, he slowed for a few beats before drowning deeper into her pool of deception. He sensed her cunning nature but discarded his hunches for a short moment of pleasure. Her need for him flowered into a deep hunger, so she took him all in, enduring the pain and roughness. Deep desire built inside of her, coiling like a spring.

Come here, my angel, Tristan said, hauling his torso up and turning her body to the side. He quickened his pace. His muscles flexed from his exertion. Each stroke hard and deep. Merciless! His eyes darkened with raw, animalistic lust.

Her toes curled at his deep voice. Yes… he hit a sensitive spot that brought her to the brink of release.

Her body trembled as she cried out his name. She threw her head back, moaning while he selfishly took control of her, in pursuit of his release. He reached down and fisted his hand in her hair. She could feel him losing control, stiffening, and tumbling to the edge with her. He pounded one final thrust into her, and her second orgasm hit, lasting a long time. It didn't end there but continued through the night until he had had his fill of Arianne Reyes.

4

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IT HAD BEEN six months since Kennedy moved to Italy to live her dream of studying abroad, and so far, all her expectations had been met. Studies had been going well; she particularly loved her gorgeous Aussie roommate turned best friend. Their social lives picked up over the last few weeks. They frequently visited popular restaurants, art galleries, musical concerts, and local pubs. Kennedy was, without a doubt, living her best life. The freedom she experienced was new and refreshing. She and Kiara made efforts to communicate daily. She made time for the old folks on the weekends. She couldn't get away from them even if she tried.

It was Friday morning, and there were no lectures scheduled for the day. She grabbed a pair of black slacks, a white T-shirt with the university logo inscribed in the middle, and headed to the library to meet Sara. She walked into a packed library in search of her. Darting looks around the open space, her companion was nowhere to be found. She decided to start working on her research paper for her Structural Analysis class that was due in a few days. An hour later, Sara sauntered into the library, scanning the large room in search of Kennedy. She waved ecstatically when her eyes finally fell on her. Kennedy scarcely waved back, a little piqued by her tardiness, and resumed typing on her laptop.

I'm sorry, Kenny, got caught up in my statistics class. I hope you haven't been waiting for too long. She said remorsefully the instant she reached Kennedy.

I am making major headway on my paper.

She pulled the seat across from Kennedy and dropped her backpack on the floor, So, I found this amazing place we need to check out tomorrow night, and we must go hunting for some new clothes, that's mandatory. We might be rubbing shoulders with some wealthy people, and must look the part. Without meeting Kennedy's amused gaze, she opened her laptop and pushed the button to bring the screen up.

Really? Kennedy chuckled.

Yes! Searching for shops, we can visit tomorrow.

Sounds exciting. I guess I need to complete my paper before the weekend then. Kennedy shot her a be quiet look.

Well, we might finally land some sexy Italian men. You know what they say…

No, I don't, Kennedy scoffed, grabbing her bottle of water. She took a slow sip, smiling to herself and hoped Sara was right. She was yet to be wowed by a gorgeous man. She heard many stories about Italian men, mainly from Kiara, but was yet to meet one that'll steal her breath away, if that was even possible. Her love life was non-existent, and it needed to be resuscitated. What are the diagnoses for her condition? Sexually frustrated, that's it.

Kennedy sneered.

Okay, let me leave you alone to focus. I need to meet my study group in the lab. Sara grabbed her laptop, threw her backpack over her shoulder, and blew Kennedy a kiss.

* * *

They spent the next afternoon indulging in some much-needed self-pampering: the nail spa, retail shopping, and the hair salon.

Kennedy had her wild curls tamed. It hung down her back in smooth waves. She loved her hair but did not have the patience to dress it up daily. Tying it up in a high ponytail was her only sane option.

Oh, my God, you look incredible. I think I prefer your hair straight. It suits your oval-shaped face. Sara glared incredulously at her, intrigued by the extreme transformation.

I will keep that in mind. Kennedy admired herself in the mirror.

Let's go find you a well-suited bloke.

Indeed!

* * *

Tristan closed the door to his study, holding his cellphone close to his ear.

Yeah, Marco, go on.

Amedeo was laundering money for the Portuguese. Somewhere along the line, something went terribly wrong, and he owes the Bernardino family millions. We both know his work is excellent, meaning, this was no mistake. My guess, he swindled the family. Marco updated Tristan on his findings.

Tristan shook his head while rubbing the back of his neck, frantically, So, Mr. Smarty-pants decided to gamble with his life and that of the family's by stealing a few millions. This doesn't add up, Marco.

I am aware. My men are working on the details, so are my connections in Lisbon. I will get back to you as soon as I receive more information. I just wanted to alert you that this might be bigger than we feared.

Tristan was having a hard time keeping all the information he had