The highest exercise of charity is charity towards the uncharitable.

-J. S. Buckminster

Francesca Marcolini's POV

I stood proudly at the ballroom in one of the famous five-star hotels here in Rome as I watched the people mingle around. They all came from the cream of Italian society supporting the charity event for the orphan children here in Italy.

It was a success, I thought smugly. I couldn't help but feel proud that I am one of the organizers of the event. My late husband was a strong supporter of charities and since we began dating I got involved in such an affair.

Now, six years after his tragic death, I dedicated myself to different charities here in Italy to continue his legacy. I hope tonight's event will be successful. I hope we'll acquire enough money for the orphans in the asylum...

"Congratulations, Francesca." An an-all-too-familiar male voice drawled behind me, so much for my luck tonight. I should have known that he's coming to this event. "I'm proud of you."

So what choice do I have then to face him? I placed a regal smile on my face as I looked at my nemesis. "Buonasera, Signore."

Satisfaction flashed on the depth of his dark eyes as if he knew that he was the last person I wanted to talk with tonight. But then again, he will never let the opportunity pass not ruining my night. I knew it based on experience in the past.

"How are you, mia regina di ghiaccio." He asked, running his bold gazed appreciatively on my body. I silently screamed at his audacious stare. "You look...fabulous."

I could swear that he was mentally undressing me, then I happened to notice the venomous glare the blond woman on his arm shot at me. I think she's a supermodel with a red show-stopping gown and those chandelier earrings and necklace studded with diamonds. It was enough to blind me when they were caught in the lights.

I smiled kindly at her as I asked this womanizing devil the question that would put him on the hot seat. "Is she your bride-to-be?" I asked in saccharine sweetness. "How rude of you not to introduce us."

The blond supermodel's face broke into a million-dollar smile as she gazed adoringly to her date while the devil merely paled.

Serves you right, I thought silently as I hid my smile.

"Darling," He said to his beautiful date. "I thought I saw your friends there a while ago. Why don't you join them for a while?"

"But—"

"I will join you later." He said resolutely, which the woman in his arms reluctantly removed her hand on his arm and drifted away from where her friends located. Once she was out of sight Marco Orsini glared at me impertinently. "Now, Francesca, that was rude."

"I, rude?" I scoffed.

"Yes. You are." He answered conceitedly. "You gave her wrong ideas."

"But I thought she's your fiancée," I told him innocently, though I only said that to annoy him. "You arrived with her so I assume..."

"Why would I still send you flowers and gifts at your office this past week asking for your help if I already found my bride-to-be that nonno would approve of?"

Oh, yes. Those flowers and gifts he constantly sent to my office along with cards asking to help him with his dilemma. At first, my secretary thought that I have a suitor but then I explained to her that my nemesis was just annoying me.

I instinctively rubbed my wedding ring. I will never marry again. Lorenzo, my husband, would forever be in my heart.

"Have you heard that Lucca and Tatiana were already in town?" I asked to change the subject about marriage and my thoughts to my husband's memory. I am still saddened every time I remember him.

A twitched smile fitted his sinful lips as I helped himself with two flukes of champagne on the passing waiter. "Really? Are they staying for good?"

"That's what Tatiana told me when I talked to her over the phone last time," I replied casually, taking his offered champagne.

"If they were already in town then why the hell are they not here?" He asked, looking around the glittering crowd. "I assumed that the great duke wouldn't let the opportunity pass in showing the society that his wife was already five months pregnant with their twins."

Taking a sipped of my champagne, I told him. "He just phoned a while ago telling me they couldn't come because Tatiana is not feeling well."

"Ah, that the problem, isn't it?" He inquired, mockery flashed on his dark eyes. "He's totally fallen to his lovely wife? He couldn't bear to be away from her even one night."

"That scornful comment just really came from a man who's currently looking for his own bride."

"There's a difference, cara mia." He said with a rakish smile on his Roman god face. "He married his Tatiana out of love, while I need to get married or I will be disinherited."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You are forgetting, Signore. Lucca and Tatiana started their marriage as a convenience but look at them now. They are so in love with each other."

"No one force the duke to marry that Russian heiress..." He opposed, giving me the same tilt on his strong eyebrows. "...he did it all by himself. Lucca wedded the woman the whole world thought died in the sea a week after she'd gone missing..."

Every time I remember how my friends started with their marriage, I still can't believe it. It was like a story from a movie or drama series. The wallflower only wanted in life to avenge the people who played her fool. But now I'm so glad that Tatiana finally let go of her revenge and starts a new life with her husband.

"...while I need a wife because my grandfather is forcing me to take one." Marco Orsini dragged me out of my reverie.

I sighed. So much for our talk about our common friends we were once again back to this thing. "I told you for a millionth time now. I can't help you to find your bride, Signore."

"Oh, you will." He said stubbornly.

I shook my head in resignation. Answering him was only futile. He wasn't going to listen to me.

Then he surprised me when he spoke again in a nonchalant tone. "Such a pity that Lucca couldn't attend this charity ball. I know he's a strong supporter of these things."

Now that he mentioned it, I felt somehow poignant about it. His donation would be a great help to tonight's cause. "Yes, you're right." I agreed to this annoying man as I frowned at him. "But now that you mention it, I'm surprised to see you here this is not your usual crowd."

"You wounded me, Francesca." He grinned devilishly. "I'm a strong supporter of charities, my dear."

I couldn't help but smile at that. "Truthfully?"

"Of course." He raised his glass for a silent salute to my direction before drinking every last content of his champagne. There was something mischievous in his dark eyes that my instinct told me to raise my guard even higher as the glee inside my heart for Marco Orsini's donation instantly vanished.

"Of course..." He said again, placing his empty fluke of champagne on the passing waiter and a new one of awareness sneaked up to my spine. "...I will donate a generous amount if you will help me in return, Francesca."

"What the..." I glared at him.

The devil merely shrugged. "A fair trade, wouldn't you say?"

"Are you saying that...?"

"Obviously." He smiled adoringly in my direction like Lucifer who wants to claim my soul. "If you promise to help me find a bride, I will contribute a generous amount to this charity."

Sweet Lord, he's really heartless.

I watched with satisfaction the shock on the pretty young widow's face as I told her that I will not donate a single centavo to this charity ball if she doesn't help me with my quest.

The look she'd been sending me was enough to freeze entire Italy. Why is she so stubborn in not helping a man with his quandary? It is not enough that I'm courting her favor over the last few days sending her gifts in her office to soften her up to me?

Then she cold-heartedly asked a while ago if my date was finally my bride-to-be I've been forced to seek. She gave Rebecca Kendrick, the hot supermodel the wrong ideas. From the amused look she'd given me a while ago, she now thought that I'll pop the question anytime after this party. I should have gotten rid of her tonight.

I don't think my old-fashioned nonno would approve that my bride was seen half-naked on billboards and magazines across the globe.

That's right. It's up to this icy woman to find me a bride that my grandfather will approve. She's a teacher of fine etiquette, isn't she? She can teach my bride how to act properly in society. She'd done a pretty good job in polishing Lucca's bride several months ago. The once wallflower heiress was now every inch of a refined duchess Lucca Cavelli could be proud of.

That's why one way or the other, I need Francesca Marcolini for the job even though I have to blackmail her into submission so be it!