Falling For Her Nightmare

Chapter 18: Heir

(Isaias' POV)

Rome, Italy

Logan parked the black Lexus on the street, behind a blue Mercedes Sedan. Across it, where the restaurant called Olive garden, and where I'm meeting the woman by the name of Celyne. The tinted black Lincoln — where my other men, discreetly following us — parked two cars behind us.

It's past two in the afternoon, and I'm an hour late.

We actually arrived here on time, but I decided to watch her first, to make sure she's legit. We arrived here in Rome three days ago, but I had to do a quick background check before meeting her.

I found some common information about her.

She's the daughter of a lawyer named Ricardo Altamonte, and she just passed her bar exam last year, and now working under her father. She's 36 and just recently married with her childhood boyfriend who was a fireman, and with no kid.

"Boss," Mason slid into the backseat quickly shutting the door beside him and reported what was happening inside briefly. "It's confirmed. It's her, in a yellow dress, near the entrance, by the window," Mason briefly said, and I look over by the window of the Olive garden, and saw her watching every customer entering the door.

"No company?" I asked, eyes still trained at her direction.

"Alone, boss," Mason replied shortly.

I nodded. "Watch for any suspicious movements," I ordered darkly as I fix my coat, and then opened the door and smoothly climbed out of the car. Shrugging my shoulders, I buttoned the coat as I strode across the road, and towards the entrance door. She was staring at me as soon as I walked in. Stop as soon as I got in, my eyes furtively scan the room briefly.

I don't really need to scan the restaurant. I already studied every angle, corner of the room. I know where the two fire exit doors. One, at the kitchen, and the other, next to the washrooms.

I caught in the corner of my eyes the two men in black leather jacket two tables away from her. Most of the diners were in a semi-formal attire. Mostly couples are there.

The young one has a jet black hair, swept back up, with a long beard, while the other one that probably in his early thirties, had a ginger red shaggy hair, short stubbles, wearing sunglasses, inside the restaurant?

Interesting.

I smirked as I casually look at the brunette woman staring at me with impatience. Her curly hair was tied in a bun, a few strands framing her oval face. She's petite and has a brown doe-eyes adorned with thick lashes, high cheekbone, small aquiline nose, and thin lips. She was wearing a simple black short sleeve dress.

Her eyes flash a tinge of hesitation as I sauntered towards her, and when I stop at her table, she stood up abruptly.

"Mr. Vitale?" more like a question, and I nodded stoically.

"I'm Celyne Altamonte," she extended her hand and I accepted it, never said a word, then pulled the chair across her and sat.

"You don't want to talk over the phone, but you want to meet in a crowded restaurant?" I started monotonously as soon as I sat. My tone ensnared with menace than I intended it to be. I cocked my eyebrow with my face gave nothing away.

She looks tensed, and I smirked.

"I thought it's safer here." She responded briefly, shrugging her shoulders, her eyes briefly rounded the room. I notice her empty teacup, her pasta half-eaten. "I don't know what's running in the President's head, or your grandfather's cousin. I don't know who's after my father and because of this goddamn will." She started ranting unceremoniously, then pulled a brown envelope from her purse, and place it on the table, and slides it towards me. "That's the will and all the rights of the properties he left you. You can only claim that if you go back to the D'Antonio's estate in Venice and run the winery that had been in your family since time immemorial. That's the condition, but heck, I can't wait. My father almost died because of that reason!" she let out a loud frustrated sigh, "anyway, the condition wasn't stated in the will," she looks a little satisfied at the thought, "Mr. D' Antonio just left the words to my father, and when he finally found you, his car exploded." Her teeth clenching, then she paused, swallowing thickly as she tried to calm herself, she continued, "I'm glad he got out of the car before it caught fire, but he broke his leg and his ribs when he jumps out of the car." She was trying to suppress her true emotions, pausing once in a while as she continued. I wasn't really paying attention. I was calculating how am I going to get her out of here. "He was heading to the tarmac to see you when his car caught on fire," she stared at me with her eyes glistening, she looks terrified, maybe things starting to sink into her head. I was just silent, hearing but not listening, still wearing that cold, stoic face since I walked in here. My whole system was working like a radar, too vigilant around us.