Chapter 50
Chapter 50
VICKY’S POV
“He was totally trigger-happy, Cin. He was ready to cancel the whole damn project just because he was actin’ way too territorial and caveman-ish about me workin’ with another guy.”
“Seriously babes, dad has his reasons, Vicky. He’s incredibly overprotective when it comes to you,” Cindy said gently, though a small smile played on her face.
“But I told Alaric that you are going to do amazing. If those Italians think they are the smartest, slickest criminals in the room, I told him my best friend Vicky is ten times smarter than any of them. So go ahead, go kill that project today. But please, be very, very vigilant. Alaric warned me too, those automotive shipping lines can be incredibly shady. If they try to smuggle any suspicious, illegal items under your sector’s registry, you have to catch it.”
“Rest assured, bestie. Ain’t Nobody is smugglin’ a single damn thing past my face,” I boasted loudly.
“And I’m gonna use the success of this Moretti project to shut the mouths of those vultures at work talkin’ about nepotism. Like, so what if I got the position through nepotism? Maybe if they were actually nice to people, they would mistakenly have a billionaire’s daughter as a bestie too.”
Cindy erupted into an explosive fit of laughter, holdin’ her stomach over the screen.
“Oh my God, Vicky, you are so crazy! I miss you so much. Go show them what a real Boston girl can do.”
“Miss you too, baby. Talk soon,” I said, blowin’ a kiss to the screen before endin’ the call.
The second the line went dead, Freya slowed the car down, pullin’ through a heavily guarded security gate with a giant sign that read: Verilli Group Northern Port Terminal, Sector 4.
The salty, sharp sea air instantly hit my nose the second I rolled the window down.
The place was absolutely massive, my ears tingling as a chaotic ballet of giant steel shipping containers, roarin’ forklift engines, and enormous cargo ships stretched along the pier.
Logistics crews in bright neon vests were runnin’ around everywhere, handlin’ the countless stream of imports floodin’ into the country.
“We have arrived, Ms. Vicky,” Freya murmured, parkin’ the car near the inspection warehouse.
“Mr. Moretti’s assistant called five minutes ago. They said he’s already waitin’ for us near the main cargo staging bay.”
“Perfect. Let’s go find this guy,” I said, openin’ the door and steppin’ out onto the gravel.
I pulled my jacket tight around my shoulders, my six-inch stiletto heels clickin’ loud and proud against the asphalt as I strode into the gigantic, open-air warehouse.
I took in every single detail, my eyes scannin’ the rows of covered luxury vehicles that had just been unloaded from the morning vessel. Freya trotted right behind me like a loyal guardian angel, holdin’ the manifests tight against her chest.
“Where the hell is this Italian guy hidin’?” I muttered under my breath, lookin’ around the towering stacks of steel crates.
“He’s the one who called this early-morning field trip, and now he’s playin’ hide-and-seek?”
The words had barely left my mouth when the sudden sound of someone clappin’ three times echoed from behind an uncovered silver sports car parked right in the center of the bay.
“Clap. Clap. Clap.”
I paused, spinnin’ around slowly on my heel.
Out from behind the vehicle stepped Enzo Moretti. He looked completely ridiculous for a shipping dock, dressed in a stunning, custom-tailored dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt. Bro didn’t even seem bothered by the dust flyin’ around or the sea salt in the air.
His styled hair was perfect, and those cunning eyes of his locked onto me with that same dangerously handsome half-smile that had driven Leo absolutely insane yesterday.
“Ah, look what we have here,” Enzo murmured, his deep Italian accent forcing its way through his English.
He took a few slow yet elegant steps toward me, apprais’in my outfit with a slow nod.
“You look remarkably less fierce today, Ms.Grover. Though, I must admit, the corporate air suits you. I was almost worried you wouldn’t show up after the… dramatic conclusion of our meeting yesterday afternoon.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, raisin’ a sharp eyebrow and fixin’ him with a look full of my usual attitude.
“Listen here, slick. I don’t miss appointments, and I sure as hell don’t let a little drama stop me from runnin’ my pipelines. Now, less prattlin’, more workin’. Show me what we’re clearin’ through my docks.”