Natalie waited until the library doors closed before she turned on Clemente.
“Your fiancée?”
Clemente poured two fingers of whiskey.
“Would you prefer wife?”
She stared at him.
“That is not remotely funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“That makes it worse.”
Matteo stood near the fireplace trying and failing not to laugh.
Natalie pointed at him without looking.
“If you laugh again, I will personally schedule every dental appointment you’ve avoided for the next five years.”
Matteo immediately stopped.
Clemente handed her a glass.
She did not take it.
Outside the closed library doors, the Lombardo family was undoubtedly discussing wedding dates, children, betrayal, inheritance implications, and whether Natalie’s dress had secretly announced the engagement before Clemente did.
Inside, Natalie wanted to strangle her employer with his own expensive tie.
“You just told thirty people we’re engaged.”
“Thirty-two.”
“Thank you, Matteo.”
“You’re welcome.”
Natalie looked back at Clemente.
“Why?”
His amusement disappeared.
“Because DeLuca was probing.”
“I know.”
“He already knew you mattered.”
“He suspected.”
“He wanted confirmation.”
“And you gave it to him with fireworks.”
Clemente set his glass down.
“He was humiliating you.”
Natalie went still.
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s part of one.”
“I don’t need you defending me because a middle-aged man called me an employee.”
“You think that’s what bothered me?”
“What else?”
Clemente held her gaze.
For one uncomfortable moment, Natalie could not read him.
Then Matteo cleared his throat.
“We may have a bigger problem.”
Natalie turned.
Matteo placed a tablet on the desk.
A photograph had already appeared online.
Clemente standing beside Natalie.
His hand at her waist.
Natalie in red.
The caption came from a private society account known for publishing photographs from Chicago charity events, weddings, and wealthy-family gatherings.
Lombardo heir appears to announce surprise engagement.
Natalie stared.
“How?”
“Someone leaked it from inside,” Matteo said.
“Already?”
“It’s been nine minutes.”
Natalie closed her eyes.
“Wonderful.”
Clemente picked up the tablet.
“Take it down.”
Matteo shook his head.
“That confirms it’s sensitive.”
“Then leave it.”
Natalie looked at Clemente.
“You cannot let this spread.”
“Why?”
“Because I am not your fiancée.”
Clemente’s eyes remained on hers.
“Tonight, you are.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Natalie hated that.
She hated that some traitorous part of her remembered the weight of his hand at her waist.
The carefulness of it.
The question hidden in the gesture.
She folded her arms.
“Explain your strategy.”
Clemente walked toward the fireplace.
“If somebody leaked Bellandi to identify pressure points, DeLuca’s question was part of the same process.”
“Possibly.”
“They’re already watching you.”
“Probably.”
“If we suddenly deny everything, they know the engagement was improvised.”
Natalie’s stomach dropped.
Which meant whoever had been watching would know Clemente had invented it defensively.
And that would confirm Natalie’s importance anyway.
Matteo nodded.
“That’s the problem.”
Natalie exhaled slowly.
“So now we maintain the lie?”
“For a few days,” Clemente said.
“No.”
“A week.”
“No.”
“Until we identify the leak.”
Natalie stared at him.
“You cannot negotiate an engagement like a shipping contract.”
“I negotiate everything.”
“That explains your dating history.”
Matteo coughed violently into his fist.
Clemente gave him a look.
Natalie continued.
“You created this disaster.”
“I protected you.”
“From what? A rude dinner guest?”
“From becoming an obvious subordinate somebody could isolate.”
“And making me your fiancée makes me less of a target?”
Clemente’s expression changed.
“No.”
Finally.
Truth.
Natalie’s anger cooled just enough for fear to enter.
He continued.
“It makes touching you equivalent to touching me.”
The library became very quiet.
Natalie looked away.
She understood what he meant.
Not romantically.
Not entirely.
Clemente Lombardo’s name carried consequences.
If enemies thought Natalie was merely a secretary, they could threaten her privately.
If they believed she was family, doing so became an open declaration against Clemente.
It was protection.
Also exposure.
A cage painted gold.
“I want full security information,” Natalie said.
“You’ll have it.”
“And I decide where I go.”
“Within reason.”
“No. Not within reason.”
Clemente’s mouth tightened.
“Natalie—”
“If we’re pretending I’m the woman you intend to marry, you don’t get to treat me like cargo.”
Matteo quietly smiled.
Clemente noticed.
“Leave.”
“With pleasure.”
When Matteo left, Natalie and Clemente stood alone.
The anger between them changed.
Less explosive.
More dangerous.
Clemente spoke first.
“You looked beautiful tonight.”
Natalie blinked.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Use compliments to distract me.”
“I’m not.”
“That might be worse.”
He leaned against the desk.
“I didn’t invite you as a joke.”
Natalie laughed once.
“Yes, you did.”
“I invited you because you understand my family.”
“You wanted to watch me survive them.”
“That too.”
“Clemente.”
He looked almost embarrassed.
An expression Natalie had never expected to see on his face.
“I wanted you there.”
Simple.
Quiet.
That was somehow more unsettling than the fake engagement.
Natalie looked toward the library doors.
“Your aunt is going to demand a wedding date.”
“She already has.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I’ve been told.”
“By me.”
“Frequently.”
Despite everything, Natalie smiled.
It lasted only a second.
Then Clemente’s phone vibrated.
His face changed as he read the message.
“What?” Natalie asked.
He handed it to her.
The security team had pulled camera footage from the office.
At 11:48 p.m. two nights earlier, someone had accessed the executive floor using an authorized key card.
Natalie’s card.
She stared at the screen.
“That’s impossible.”
“You were home?”
“I was asleep.”
“Anyone else have your card?”
“No.”
Clemente took the phone.
“Then somebody cloned it.”
Natalie’s mind moved quickly.
The confidential Bellandi packet had existed digitally and physically.
Only three printed copies.
One in Clemente’s safe.
One in legal.
One locked inside Natalie’s desk during preparation.
“Check my office.”
“They already are.”
Her phone buzzed this time.
Matteo.
Natalie answered.
“Yes?”
His voice had lost all humor.
“Your desk was opened.”
Natalie looked at Clemente.
“How?”
“No damage. Whoever did it knew exactly what they were doing.”
“Was anything taken?”
A pause.
“One Bellandi working draft is missing.”
Natalie’s blood went cold.
Clemente took one step toward her.
She raised a hand.
“Don’t.”
“Natalie.”
“Think.”
He stopped.
She began pacing.
“If somebody stole my draft and cloned my access card, they’re not just leaking Bellandi.”
“They’re framing you.”
“Maybe.”
Clemente’s eyes sharpened.
“Not maybe.”
Natalie stopped pacing.
“There’s another possibility.”
“What?”
“They want you to think I’m responsible.”
Clemente’s expression became frighteningly calm.
“Impossible.”
She stared.
“You should consider it.”
“No.”
“That’s irrational.”
“I know you.”
“You employ me.”
“I know you.”
His certainty unsettled her more than suspicion would have.
Natalie lowered her voice.
“You didn’t even know I owned a red dress.”
Clemente almost smiled.
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Apparently I’ve been an idiot.”
Natalie’s heartbeat skipped.
Before she could answer, shouting erupted outside the library.
Clemente moved first.
The doors opened.
Matteo stood there with two security men.
“We have another problem.”
“What now?” Natalie asked.
Matteo looked directly at her.
“Someone sent a photograph to Clemente’s private number.”
He turned the phone around.
Natalie saw herself leaving the Lombardo office building three nights ago.
Nothing unusual.
Until she noticed the man reflected in the glass behind her.
Adrien Viscari.
Standing across the street.
Watching.
Under the photograph was a single message.
Congratulations on the engagement. Keep her close.
Clemente’s expression hardened.
Natalie stared at the words.
Because suddenly the fake engagement did not feel absurd.
It felt like someone had been waiting for it.
---