Page 80 of Brutal Heir

Painted an intimidating matte black, it looked like something out of a James Bond movie. On the side was the familiar Diamanti family crest. A gold dragon with a crown and a unicorn stood on either side of a shield, above which a glowing blue diamond sparkled. Below the crest, the inscription of the infamous family motto read:

Crede nullis. Vince omnes.

Trust none. Conquer all.

The House of Diamanti was notorious for its motto, often quoted in headlines whenever their immense wealth and power drew scrutiny.

As I stared in horrified awe, I whispered, “What am I doing here?”

“I want to talk. We’ll do so on my plane.”

I snapped my head to the right to stare at him as I gestured to the plane. “There isn’t a chance in hell I’m getting on that…on that…Bond villain plane!”

His driver opened his door.

Sebastian stepped out and adjusted his coat, buttoning it in front as he waved the driver off and circled around to open my door.

He extended his arm with his palm up. “Sabrina, get out of the car, sweetheart.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “This is a trick.”

He placed his forearm against the opening and leaned down. “There are some important gentlemen arriving to do business with me. Because of various international customs laws, we need to complete the diamond exchange on board my private plane. There is no trick.”

As he spoke, two black Range Rovers pulled into the hangar. Four men dressed in dark suits, with silver briefcases handcuffed to their wrists, alighted.

A security guard approached the car. “Signore Diamanti, the men are here to⁠—”

“They can wait.” Sebastian kept his gaze focused on me.

The four men gathered in a group, shifting their weight from side to side as they checked their phones. They clearly weren’t used to waiting.

“I thought you said they were important.”

“They are…but you are more important.”

“So you’re just going to make them wait?”

His voice held a hint of amusement. “Strictly speaking, you’re making them wait.”

I twisted the Bvlgari rose-gold ring around my finger. The people-pleaser in me hated keeping anyone waiting, even complete strangers.

“But why do I have to get on the plane too?”

“Because I’m not leaving you alone in the back of a fucking car without my protection.”

Part of me wanted to ask why I would need protection, but another part was too afraid to know the answer. With a sigh, I got out of the car. “Fine, but after this, I want to go back to Terminal One.”

Sebastian placed a hand at my lower back and guided me toward the plane. The touch was light but firm, an unspoken command wrapped in a veneer of politeness. I climbed the narrow boarding stairs, clinging to the rail as my nerves mounted.

A male flight attendant greeted us at the entrance with champagne. “Welcome aboard, Signore Diamanti, Signora Badalamenti.”

Sebastian took one glass and handed it to me. He then shrugged out of his coat and placed it over the attendant’s extended arm. “Thank you, Oliver. Is the conference room prepared for our guests?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. Escort them aboard by the rear entrance while I get Signora Badalamenti settled.”

I followed him past the reception area into a cozy lounge decorated in chocolate brown, bronze, and cream. If I hadn’t known we were on a plane, I’d have thought I was in some lavish penthouse. Marble sculptures accented the sleek furniture—a Roman bust, a headless torso, and an elegant hand.