Natalie stopped the war before Clemente could start one.
Barely.
“I want every Viscari property watched,” Clemente ordered.
Matteo nodded.
“And Adrien?”
“Bring him.”
Natalie stepped forward.
“No.”
Clemente turned.
“We are past discussion.”
“No, we’re finally at the useful part.”
“My garage was breached.”
“Exactly.”
“Your car was placed inside my home.”
“Exactly.”
“And you think we wait?”
“I think Adrien wants you angry.”
“I am angry.”
“That’s obvious.”
Clemente took a breath.
Natalie walked toward the security display.
“Think. If Adrien could penetrate this house that easily, why announce it?”
Matteo frowned.
“To frighten us.”
“No.”
She pointed at the camera logs.
“To force Clemente into retaliation.”
Silence.
Natalie continued.
“Adrien’s been pushing the same pattern from the beginning. Leak Bellandi. Test Clemente publicly. Threaten me. Make every action personal.”
Clemente’s gaze sharpened.
“He wants me to move first.”
“Yes.”
Matteo understood.
“So whatever Clemente does next becomes justification.”
“For what?”
Natalie looked at both men.
“Probably something legal.”
That possibility changed everything.
Adrien did not need a street war.
He needed Clemente implicated.
A raid.
A prosecution.
A business collapse.
Something that would leave Bellandi exposed and Lombardo influence weakened.
The threats against Natalie were bait.
Very effective bait.
Clemente stared at her for a long moment.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“And you still stayed.”
“Yes.”
His voice lowered.
“Why?”
Natalie looked at him.
Because leaving would reward Adrien.
Because Clemente needed her.
Because she loved solving impossible problems.
Because somewhere between a red dress and a fake engagement, her relationship with Clemente had stopped being professional in ways she was still afraid to name.
“All of the above,” she said.
He almost smiled.
They designed a final trap.
Natalie would announce that she and Clemente had decided to postpone their engagement celebration.
Privately, she would send a carefully controlled message through Lorenzo suggesting that she intended to resign once the Bellandi transaction closed.
If Adrien’s real goal was removing her, he would wait.
If his goal was something else, he would act.
They did more.
Natalie created a false document suggesting Clemente planned to move the Bellandi signing from Monday to Saturday night at the Lombardo mansion.
Only Adrien’s channel received it.
The real deal would close Monday at a law office.
Saturday night, the mansion would be filled with security and federal financial investigators already interested in Marzano’s fraud network.
Clemente disliked involving authorities.
Natalie insisted.
“If Adrien wants to use law enforcement against you, give him legitimate law enforcement instead.”
“You enjoy irony.”
“Deeply.”
Saturday arrived.
The family believed they were attending an engagement dinner.
Technically, they were.
Carlotta had refused to cancel it.
“If somebody intends to threaten this family,” she declared, “they can do it while I serve tiramisu.”
Natalie wore red again.
Not the same dress.
Clemente noticed.
“Red.”
“You have excellent color recognition.”
“I remember the first one.”
She looked at him.
“So do I.”
The mansion filled.
Dinner began.
Security watched every door.
Natalie sat beside Clemente.
His hand rested near hers on the table.
Not touching.
Waiting.
At 9:14 p.m., Matteo received the signal.
A vehicle had entered the service road.
Two men.
One carried forged identification.
Another had a camera.
They claimed to be auditors delivering last-minute Bellandi documents.
Security detained them quietly.
One man had a phone containing instructions from a contact labeled A.V.
Still not enough.
Then Adrien arrived.
Uninvited.
Perfectly dressed.
Holding wine.
Carlotta looked at him from across the foyer.
“You were not invited.”
Adrien smiled.
“I came to congratulate the couple.”
Natalie watched him.
He looked too calm.
Clemente approached.
“You have unusual timing.”
“I heard tonight mattered.”
“From whom?”
Adrien’s smile remained.
“People talk.”
Natalie stepped beside Clemente.
“Especially when someone pays them.”
Adrien looked at her.
“There she is.”
“Disappointed?”
“Surprised.”
“Why?”
“I heard you were leaving.”
Natalie smiled.
The trap closed.
Only Lorenzo’s channel carried that information.
Adrien realized his mistake half a second too late.
Clemente saw it.
So did Matteo.
Natalie spoke quietly.
“Nobody else knew.”
Adrien’s expression hardened.
“You think that proves something?”
“No.”
She lifted a tablet.
“But your men entering the service road with forged credentials might.”
For the first time, Adrien lost control.
“They are not my men.”
“Then you won’t mind if investigators ask them.”
The word investigators changed the room.
Adrien looked toward the doors.
Two officials entered with Clemente’s attorney.
Not dramatic.
Not theatrical.
Worse.
Professional.
Prepared.
Adrien took one step backward.
“You brought federal investigators into your own house?”
Clemente looked at Natalie.
“She did.”
Natalie smiled.
“I believe in diversified problem solving.”
Adrien’s face twisted.
“This woman is going to destroy you.”
Clemente answered calmly.
“No.”
He looked at Natalie.
“She’s the reason you couldn’t.”
Adrien’s mask finally fell.
He turned toward Natalie.
“You cost me forty million dollars.”
“You tried to drag Clemente into fraudulent financing.”
“You were a secretary.”
The words echoed.
Natalie felt something inside her settle.
Years of being dismissed.
“The girl.”
The secretary.
The curvy woman behind the desk.
Invisible until somebody needed something.
She stepped closer.
“Yes.”
Adrien stared.
Natalie smiled.
“And you lost to me anyway.”
Matteo laughed once.
Adrien lunged—not at Natalie, but for the tablet.
Clemente intercepted him instantly.
Security moved.
Within seconds, Adrien was restrained.
No gunshots.
No blood.
No chaos.
Only defeat.
Investigators recovered enough communications from the detained men to connect Adrien to the intimidation campaign and Marzano fraud.
Lorenzo’s testimony filled the remaining gaps.
By midnight, Adrien Viscari left the mansion in custody.
The family finally breathed.
Carlotta looked around the wrecked dinner atmosphere.
“Does this mean dessert is canceled?”
Natalie burst out laughing.
Even Clemente did.
Hours later, after everyone left, Natalie stood alone on the terrace overlooking the dark lake.
Clemente joined her.
“No security?” she asked.
“Twenty feet away.”
“Of course.”
He stood beside her.
For once, neither had a crisis to solve.
Natalie looked at the ring on her hand.
His grandmother’s ring.
“The threat is over.”
“Yes.”
“So the engagement can end.”
Clemente went very still.
Natalie slowly removed the ring.
Then held it toward him.
He did not take it.
“That isn’t mine.”
“It belongs to your family.”
“My aunt gave it to you.”
“Because she thought this was real.”
Clemente looked at her.
“And if it were?”
Natalie’s heartbeat changed.
“Clemente.”
“I told you we would talk after this ended.”
She looked away.
“This is not the time to improvise again.”
“I’m not improvising.”
“You proposed the first time because DeLuca insulted me.”
“I didn’t propose.”
“You publicly announced an engagement.”
“Fair.”
She almost smiled.
He stepped closer.
“This time I would ask.”
Natalie’s breath caught.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because we haven’t even been on a date.”
“Then dinner tomorrow.”
She stared.
“That is your solution?”
“Dinner. No family. No Bellandi. No DeLucas. No threats.”
“No fake engagement?”
“No.”
“No security at the table?”
“Nearby.”
She rolled her eyes.
Clemente smiled.
Natalie looked at the ring in her palm.
Then back at him.
“One dinner.”
“One.”
“And we are not engaged.”
“Not currently.”
She pointed at him.
“Do not ruin this.”
“I’ll try.”
Natalie placed the ring into his hand.
Clemente closed his fingers around it.
For the first time since the original dinner, Natalie’s left hand felt strangely empty.
She hated that too.
But she smiled anyway.
Because tomorrow, for the first time in four years, Clemente Lombardo would not be taking his secretary to dinner.
He would be taking Natalie Strauss.
And both of them knew that distinction might change everything.
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