Caroselli's Christmas Baby. Michelle Celmer

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      For Steve, who truly is my hero.

      Prologue

      “As your attorney, and your friend, I have to say, Giuseppe, that I think this is a really bad idea.”

      Giuseppe Caroselli sat in his wingback leather chair—the one his wife, Angelica, God rest her saintly soul, had surprised him with for his eighty-fifth birthday—while Marcus Russo eyed him furtively from the sofa. And he was was right. This scheme Giuseppe had concocted had the potential to blow up in his face, and create another rift in a family that already had its share of quarrels. But he was an old man and time was running low. He could sit back and do nothing, but the potential outcome was too heartbreaking to imagine. He had to do something.

      “It must be done,” he told Marcus. “I’ve waited long enough.”

      “I can’t decide which would be worse,” Marcus said, rising from the sofa and walking to the window that boasted a picturesque view of the park across the street, though most of the leaves had already fallen. “If they say no, or they actually say yes.”

      “They’ve left me no choice. For the good of the family, it must be done.” Carrying on the Caroselli legacy had always been his number one priority. It was the reason he had fled Italy at the height of the Second World War, speaking not a word of English, with a only few dollars in the pocket of his trousers and his nonni’s secret family chocolate recipe emblazoned in his memory. He knew the Caroselli name was destined for great things.

      He’d worked scrimped and saved until he had the money to start the first Caroselli Chocolate shop in downtown Chicago. In the next sixty years the Caroselli name grew to be recognized throughout the world, yet now it was in danger of dying out forever. Of his eight grandchildren and six great-grandchildren, there wasn’t a single heir to carry on the family name. Though his three sons each had a son, they were all still single and seemed to have no desire whatsoever to marry and start families of their own.

      Giuseppe had no choice but to take matters into his own hands, and make them an offer they simply could not refuse.

      There was a soft rap on the study door, and the butler appeared, tall and wiry and nearly as old as his charge. “They’re here, sir.”

      Right on time, Giuseppe thought with a smile. If there was one thing that could be said about his grandsons, they were unfailingly reliable. They were also as ambitious as Giuseppe had been at their age, which is why he believed this might work. “Thank you, William. Send them in.”

      The butler nodded and slipped from the room. A few seconds later his grandsons filed in. First Nicolas, charming and affable, with a smile that had been known to get him out of trouble with authority, and into trouble with the ladies. Following him was Nick’s cousin Robert, serious, focused and unflinchingly loyal. And last but not least, the oldest of all his grandchildren, ambitious, dependable Antonio Junior.

      His joints protesting the movement, Giuseppe rose from his chair. “Thank you for coming, СКАЧАТЬ