Why had I asked that?
I wasn’t sure I could ever grow to love a man who held my family’s future in his hands.
What would I do if Sebastian forbade me to have my businesses or work?
I knew plenty of women in our world who had to give up everything they’d treasured before their marriages to focus on the needs and wants of her husband and his family.
“There is always hope, Hasi.”
“Thank you, Oma.” I released a loud yawn. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Now get a few hours’ sleep. You’ll need it.”
What was happening that I’d need sleep? Mama and Papa couldn’t spring another surprise marriage on me.
“Why?”
“Your future father-in-law is going to meet the family for brunch at noon.”
My lids shot open. “What?”
They must not have understood that when I’d said I didn’t want to meet my future husband that it also extended to his family.
“You heard me. Don’t be late. Good night.” She hung up.
With this new bit of news, I was not going to have any sort of relaxing sleep.
Around twelve thirty, I arrived at El Pesto, an Italian eatery outside the posh neighborhood where my parents lived and I’d grown up. I was late and expected annoyed glares from my family. I was never late to anything, and the fact I was late would mean they thought I’d done it on purpose.
How was I to know that today of all days I’d hit traffic because of a major accident on the road from my apartment to the restaurant?
Honestly, I couldn’t say I was too upset. The last thing I wanted to do was have brunch with the man who’d decided it was time I became his son’s wife.
A tall, rail-thin man with salt-and-pepper hair rushed toward me. “Miss Benz. Welcome. Your family is waiting in the Parlor Room.”
“Good to see you, Romy. How are the girls?” I leaned forward, kissing his cheeks.
Romy had been my family’s personal waiter since the time Opa ran the family. He knew everyone’s likes and dislikes and had an uncanny way of anticipating the needs of his guests.
“They’re very good. Thank you for asking.” He led me through the main dining hall and into a back hallway.
Papa and Mama never ate in public unless they wanted people to see them. They preferred privacy and the comfort of knowing people weren’t constantly watching them.
I’d heard Jonas Weber viewed attention very differently. He loved media coverage and went to great lengths for everyone to see him. At least his son wasn’t of the same mindset. I’d spent the last month scouring the Net for every tidbit of information about him. I’d gone as far as to contact my friend Ana, who recently retired from Solon, a security agency specializing in underground information, to help.
After Ana had gotten over her initial shock of me asking her, she’d agreed to help, but had warned me that her information would be limited since she no longer “officially” worked for Solon.
With who my father was, we tended to avoid discussion revolving around her job or anyone connected to my family.
The information she’d found was limited at best, centered around what was publicly known about him, his family ties, education, and various businesses.
The few pictures of Sebastian available were grainy at best and could have been of any other man on the street. It almost seemed as if he’d scrubbed any and all records about himself.
There was one bit of news revealed in the report that had surprised me. Sebastian had a deep-seated hatred for anyone involved in human trafficking. If he learned any of his associates were rumored to have ties to that world, he made it a mission to destroy that individual and the organization they were associated with.
According to Ana, Sebastian had a reputation for using his connections to work with and help groups whose sole purpose was to end this dark underworld practice.
At least that was something positive about Sebastian Weber.
Papa had the same belief and gave considerable donations to organizations who helped victims who were rescued from sex-trafficking rings.
So in the end, what I’d learned about Sebastian was that he was a ruthless mob boss with a moral compass. Which really gave me no insight into the man himself.
He was a bigger mystery than ever.
I’d asked my family not to meet him or learn anything about him until we married, and I guessed the universe was answering my request.
Then there was the man I’d met last night. He was another enigma. One I shouldn’t be thinking about at all.
Especially when I was about to meet my father-in-law.
Jonas Weber was no way near as big a mystery as his son. Jonas had more than an encyclopedia’s worth of information available. I’d learned from listening to conversations over the years that people viewed Jonas as lazy and untrustworthy, and that he possessed an inflated ego. The very type of man Papa despised with a passion.
“Here you go.” Romy opened the double doors leading into the private dining room.
Papa, Mama, Oma, and Jonas Weber were seated around an oval table. Everyone’s attention shifted from the conversation they were engaged in to me.
“I apologize for being late, Papa.” I moved toward him.
He rose, meeting me halfway. He engulfed me in his arms for a tight hug and a kiss on my cheek.
“No need to apologize. I heard about the accident on the news reports. Come, meet Jonas Weber.”
I approached the man who looked much younger than the sixty-eight years the Internet reported him as being. He had a slight dusting of gray at the temples with the rest of his hair being a rich blondish brown. His build was similar to Papa’s, but he wasn’t as fit. Something told me he spent more time behind a desk than out with his men.
Jonas took my hand, bringing it to his lips. “So, you are my new daughter.”
“Not yet, but soon.” I gave him a polite smile. Something about the way he looked at me made
