Page 9 of Beautiful & Dirty

Chapter 5

My office smells metallic,like freshly spilled blood, mixed with the lingering stench of medical-grade disinfectant. How have I never noticed that before? Or maybe I have, it’s just become so familiar that there isn’t any reason to think twice about it. But with the soft whisper of Shae’s voice still ringing in my head, it’s as if all of my senses are reactivating; things I’d become numb to feel new.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“Did you get the money?” I ask casually.

“Got it, boss,” Alfonso says.

“But we got another problem,” Giulio says, always the serious one, at least when there is serious business at hand. I look at him, the sharp set of his lips and hard eyes snapping me out of the gentle cloud of Shae’s presence.

I sigh. I’m suddenly so weary of all this, but that’s the worst weakness of them all. If I’m sick of the job — and my position in the organization — there are lots of people who’d be happy to relieve me of it. Maybe even one of the two men in the room with me. I sit in the same chair I’d occupied when we were interrogating Umberto. I cross my legs and brush an imaginary piece of lint from my slacks.

“What’s the problem?”

“When we went to Umberto’s mistress’s apartment, there was already someone there.”

I raise my eyebrows in interest. “Who?”

“Carmine Facciolo.”

I huff out a breath of laughter, but this laugh isn’t amused, it’s bitter. It’s nothing like the way Shae made me laugh. “Now what was that slimy piece of shit doing at Umberto’s mistress’s house?”

“That’s what we asked him,” Giulio says with a playful shrug, “in a roundabout way. With our fists.”

“And what did he say?”

“Apparently, Umberto’s mistress is about as faithful as he is.”

I’m bored again. “And why do I care who any of these people are fucking?”

“Because Umberto’s mistress is Angelica Torrino,” Giulio says in that flat, dangerous voice that’s deadly and useful.

“How did I not know that Umberto was fucking my wife’s sister and that she’s fucking the man who tried to kill me?” I ask, even as my brain begins to work, putting all the pieces together.

If Carmine had come for me anywhere but in front of the church, he’d have been dead within seconds, but with the priests and the little old ladies — and that surveillance task force I’m not supposed to know about — all watching, my hands had been tied. Yet another smart move on his part. I’ve spent months working out how best to exact my revenge without inviting any more police attention, and apparently, that grace period had been useful in ferreting out Carmine’s connections to people uncomfortably close to me, a blessing and a curse.

“I pay you two a lot of money to make sure I knoweverythingthat happens in this town.” My voice is hard now, and the energy in the room has changed. I’m irate, and my men know it, but considering the weight of the revelation they’ve dropped in my lap, I think I’m being much calmer than this moment deserves.

“I know, boss,” Alfonso says warily.

“Then answer my question.”

“We think he had… help hiding it from us. From you.”

“Of course, he has.”

“It might not be—”

“Of course, it is,” I say, my fists clenching in my lap.

The room is silent now, but it’s filling steadily with my rage. It’s not betrayal that I’m feeling; I’d have to trust someone for that. I’d have to trust this particular someone for that, and I’ve never been that foolish. What I’m feeling is the kind of rage fed by weariness and inevitability. I knew this day would come; it had to. It’s the only way any of this could have played out, and I’ve been preparing for it for twenty years. I would have been stupid not to.

I take a deep breath, and give the order I’ve been dreading and anticipating and — God forgive me — hoping for. “Flavia should be shopping. Luca’s on her detail; contact him and have him bring her.”

“Here, boss?” Alfonso asks.

I open my mouth to say yes but stop. My mind wanders to the dining room — to Shae — and I change my mind. I shake my head. “Take her to the country house. Call me when you’re there.”

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