Page 29 of Volatile Vice

Christ. Puzo had a wife and kids, too. He may have been a mobster piece of shit, but he had people who loved him and depended on him. Maybe his wife knew what he was doing to support their lavish lifestyle. But his kids certainly didn’t. And his nanny, apparently an old friend of Raven’s, couldn’t have known about his dealings.

I force the thought out of my head. He was a bad man. The world is better off with him gone.

More small talk as we finish our dessert.

Finally, the butler comes in to clear the table.

McAllister rises. “Gentlemen, would you like to join me for a cigar on the veranda?”

A young woman enters. “Miss Belinda, it’s time for your afternoon lesson.”

Belinda looks up at her father.

He nods slightly at her. “Go ahead, darling.”

Belinda rises from her chair, still not making eye contact with any of us. “It was lovely to meet all of you,” she says and then follows the young woman—her nanny?—out of the dining room.

Only then, while my grandfather rises and is otherwise engaged talking to McAllister, do I have a chance to pull out the note in my pocket.

My heart stops as I glance at it.

Please help me.

9

RAVEN

Lunch with my mother turns out to be more difficult than I anticipated.

The stares.

People don’t mean to be rude. They’re just curious. They see a woman with no eyebrows and peach fuzz on her head, and they can’t help but take a closer look.

They wonder what my story is. Have I been ill? Am I getting better? Will I die soon?

Or maybe they think I’m in a heavy metal band. Or a cult.

“Ignore it,” Mom says. “Don’t let it bother you.”

“Are you kidding?” I roll my eyes. “It’s not that it bothers me. I’m so happy to be alive, especially after what happened to…”

“Sweetheart, what happened to the attorney wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.” I sigh, looking over my menu. “I just wish…”

“Wish what, honey?”

Wish I could be honest. Wish I could tell you about the Uber driver and the drone flying over my backyard. Wish I could tell you I’m in love with Vinnie Gallo, and that the thought of never seeing him again…

Nope, can’t say any of that.

“I’m fine.” I clear my throat. “As fine as I can be, at least. I think I’ll have a cheeseburger.”

“That sounds great. I’ll have the same.”

My appetite has been ravenous since I’ve been recovering. It’s like my body is telling me to put back on the weight I lost. Build up those muscles again. Even when my heart is breaking—and on a normal day that would take away my appetite—it hasn’t happened.

“And what can I get the two of you today?” Our server stops at the table.

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