Drive Her Mad (THE BILLIONAIRE AND THE POP DIVA VOL. 3) by Eve Montelibano

“IS THIS A RANCH OR SOMETHING?”
    He glanced at her.
    Valenna caught her breath as she drank in her new lover’s gorgeousness in the driver’s seat of his limited edition Z-11.3 top down coupe, a model he had designed himself. He looked so at home in the steering wheel as he navigated the sports car on a dirt road in the middle of thousands of acres of grassland. It had been close to an hour since they left the heart of Melbourne and drove off to the suburbs. They just entered a huge archway bearing the name Mirabella.
    “I wouldn’t call it a ranch, but there are horses being bred in some parts within the property.”
    She squinted into the distance. It was almost flat grassland for miles and miles, as far as her eyes could see. “Are there any other people out here? I see no houses.”
    “On the other side of the property, yes. In these parts, only a few.”
    “Why?”
    “I like my privacy.”
    She looked at him in a funny way. “Like who would disturb you in the middle of nowhere?”
    He shrugged. “You’d be surprised what people do to make a buck.”
    She scrunched her face. “Don’t I know that. So, who are the people who inhabit these parts aside from you? What’s going on here?”
    “Only the security men, a dozen of them patrolling the area whenever I’m here and the chalet staff who have their own cottage. This is a private race track.”
    “A race track? I don’t see the track.”
    “This is the track.”
    “But it’s dirt road.”
    “Exactly.”
    “You do dirt racing, too?”
    “To the grave disapproval of my team."
    Racing on asphalt got old some time ago. This track gets really rough in some parts. This is the easiest part.”
    “Wait, a dozen security men? You’re not some mob boss, are you?”
    He grinned and didn’t comment.
    “Giane, I don’t like surprises like that.”
    “You should have thought of that before you slept with me.”
    “He conveniently forgot that he railroaded me into it at my own presscon.”
    “Not guilty. I just reminded you of your end of the bargain which you conveniently forgot.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. The point is moot now. So?”
    He didn’t answer.
    She rummaged in her tote bag for her phone.
    “What are you doing?”
    “I’m going to google the Zoldattis if they have connections to the mob.”
    “And if they do?”
    “Well…Just tell me!”
    “The Zoldattis are...okay. It’s the Medicis you should be worried about.”
    “Why?”
    “The Medicis have a colorful history in banking, piracy, politics, art and royalty.”
    She snapped her fingers. “I knew it! Piracy! The mob! Oh god! I’m so dead!”
    “Don’t insult the mob, cara . Most of them have legit businesses now,” he said, amused. “What I meant by piracy is about a man named Cossa, a pirate of the high seas in the 1400s who became the pope with the help of the Medicis, and in return, he invested all his booties from his Captain Hook adventures and his loot from the Vatican treasury into the Medici bank in those days. That helped my ancestors become the wealthiest bankers in Europe for roughly three centuries.”
    “Wow! Interesting. You have popes for ancestors?”
    “Four, actually, and two regent queens of France.”
    “Yeah. I’ve read about Catherine de Medici in my history class way back in high school. She’s the most famous Medici, and Catriona of course. I wear her label.”
    “And here I thought it was me.”
    “You’re a Zoldatti. You’re famous for your cars.”
    “Not in Europe. In Europe, I’m a Medici. Nothing can come above the family name, not even my grandfather’s famous cars,” he said with a bit of irony in his tone. “Yes, Catriona is all over the place,” he added, not in a pleasant way.
    “How are you related?”
    “My mother and her father are first cousins.”
    “I bet your mother is a beauty.”
    He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, as if the mention of his mother displeased him.
    That made her even more curious. She