On the way home, I make a detour to Maxime’s office. It’s best I tell him before he gets the bank statement.
Chapter 30
Maxime
I’m halfway through the auction stipulations draft when my receptionist announces I have a visitor. I’m not excepting anyone. To say I’m doubly taken back when my sister-in-law walks into my office is an understatement.
“Max,” Izabella says when I’ve seen her inside and closed the door, offering her hand instead of her cheek.
I kiss her fingers, taking care not to touch her skin with my lips. “This is unexpected.”
“I believe congratulations is in order.” She looks me over. “How’s married life?”
Indicating the visitor’s chair, I do a quick evaluation of her person. “I should ask you the same.” She’s wearing a skirt that reaches her knees and a matching jacket. No bruises on her neck or legs. “I take it my brother is treating you well?”
Instead of taking the chair, she drops her handbag on my desk and faces me standing. “Alexis and I don’t see that much of each other.”
I search her face. “Did he send you?”
She holds my eyes without blinking. “No.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
She lifts her chin. “No.”
“Is that wise?”
“I’m here now anyway.” She shifts her weight.
“I guess you are. Tea?”
“No.”
Izabella is young, but she’s a no-nonsense girl. She’s made that clear during the first and only one-on-one audience we’d had when she stated her demands for the marriage that was supposed to take place between us. That’s the only reason I’m not throwing her out. It’s the history we would’ve shared if I hadn’t stood her up.
“Then I suppose you’ll want to get straight to the point,” I say.
“Alexis is in trouble.”
I move to the door. “You’ve come to the wrong place.”
“Wait.” She catches up with me and grabs my arm. “Hear me out.”
I look at where she’s clutching my jacket. “I’ve heard enough from Jerome and Raphael.”
She removes her hand. “You haven’t heard this.”
Already gripping the door handle, I say, “I don’t want to.”
“Someone is blackmailing him.”
“Not my problem.” I push the handle down.
“Francois Leclerc.”
The name stills me. Leclerc is the man who tortured a prostitute with my brother, and I made both pay for by giving them a taste of their own medicine. I drop the handle. “I’m listening.”
“Leclerc has information that Alexis doesn’t want to come out. Alexis is paying him bribes.”
I cross my arms. “You know this how?”
“I heard them talk.”
Mm. Izabella is an eavesdropper. “What information?”
“I don’t know.”
I widen my stance. “Why tell me?”
“Apparently, it’s something you’d like to know.”
Tilting my head, I consider her. “What are you asking of me?”
“Nothing. I’m just dropping a lead in your lap.”
“Why?”
“Someone needs to take care of Leclerc.”
I laugh. “You think that someone is me.”
Her eyes flash with annoyance. “Alexis can’t. Leclerc has measures in place to let whatever he’s holding over Alexis’s head go public if anything happens to him. You have a reputation of extracting things from people like no one else can. You can make Leclerc give the evidence to you.”
“I’m no longer part of the family as you very well know.”
“It concerns you. It’s a private matter.”
She’s done her homework and put her ducks in a row. “Why come to me? Why not your brother or father?”
She smiles. “You must know how ambitious my brother is. He’s only waiting for the day Alexis goes under so he can take his place. As for my father, he’s never been on my side.”
In other words, Leonardo and Paolo will rather use the information to destroy Alexis and take the power for themselves, and I’m guessing Izabella doesn’t want to fall back under their thumbs.
“All I ask,” she says, “is that you share that information with me.”
Ah. She wants power, something to hold over her husband’s head. Well, well. Ms. Zanetti is a game player.
“I need insurance,” she says. “For myself, you see.”
I do see. In the family, it’s always like a game of chess. The winner isn’t necessarily the one with the biggest muscles. It’s the one with the brains. Who am I to deny her a survival plan? In any event, my curiosity is piqued. I’d like to know what Leclerc is hiding from me.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll look into it.”
She holds out a hand. “Thank you.”
I don’t shake on it, because this isn’t a deal. “No more surprise visits.” If Alexis founds out she came to me, it won’t end well for her.
She opens her mouth, but whatever she was going to say is cut short when the door opens and my wife walks in.
What is this? Surprise me day? Not that I’m not happy to see my wife. Her dark hair is windblown and her cheeks red from the cold. Prettier than a princess. After all the avoidance she’s done lately, I can’t help but feel a spark of excitement because she looked me up. Isn’t that why I gave her space? To let her have some of her own power in our relationship.
Zoe looks between us, her lips parting in a silent oh. “I didn’t know you had a visitor.”
“I should go,” Izabella says, snatching up her bag from my desk.
She walks past Zoe with a straight back, not saying goodbye or closing the door behind her.
Zoe stares at me. She doesn’t say a word, but questions run through her eyes. Her expression is tainted with a hint of the pain she carried so openly on the day she caught Izabella and me making engagement arrangements.
“It was about Alexis,” I say.
Her mouth tightens. Swiveling on her heel, she says, “I don’t want to know.”
I cut her off before she can walk out the door. “I didn’t know she was coming.”
She moves to the right, trying to
