Page 96 of Victorious Vice

“Yeah. About that… When were you going to tell me that Diego Vega wasn’t dead?”

“There was no reason to.”

“Who the hell is buried on the Bellamy property?” I demand.

“There’s a reason why Diego was demoted,” Mario says. “It’s not something I can talk to you about over the phone.”

“Good. I need you to come to my parents’”—I clear my throat—“I meanmyhouse. I’m sure you’ll want to meet my lovely bride.”

“McAllister’s not happy.”

“McAllister doesn’t need to worry. I’m working on getting Daniela legal status so she can stay here, and then we’ll be divorcing.”

“Are you sure? She’s a lovely little thing. Tight, I bet.”

God, he makes me want to puke. What a dirty old man. I have half a mind not to tell him about Serena. He might know anyway, if he’s spoken to Agudelo. Besides, I’m convinced Serena is the real reason he sent me. Mario couldn’t care less about Puzo’s deal.

“You’re disgusting. I haven’t slept with her. I don’t sleep with children. I don’t plan to. This marriage is one of convenience only.”

“You may as well take what’s yours, Vincent.”

“She’s not mine. She’s a person. She’s not an object.”

“Did she refuse to sleep with you? She doesn’t have that right.”

“To the contrary, Mario. She didn’t refuse. She offered herself to me up on a platter. I’m the one who said no.” I grit my teeth. “But for your information, shedoesin fact have the right to refuse to sleep with me. Or anyone else, old man.”

He scoffs. “God, your father ruined you.”

“Yes, he certainly did,” I grit out, hoping he understands what I mean.

“So what is it you need me to come over about?”

“I believe you already know,” I say. “And we have a lot to talk about.”

33

RAVEN

My mother and Robin arrive about an hour later. Robin comes in to the guestroom where I’m staying.

“Raven, last night couldn’t have gone any better. Have you heard how much money we made?”

Wow. I haven’t even thought about that with everything else that went on.

“I assume it was pretty good.”

She pulls out her phone and scrolls through it. “From the donations that we received and the silent auction receipts, we’re at about two and a half million dollars already. That doesn’t even count the three thousand dollars a plate the people paid to go to the gala.”

“But it doesn’t take into account our expenses,” I say dryly.

She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t get too enthused.”

She’s right. Our expenses were nothing compared to receipts so far, and there’s no price on the awareness we raised.

I regard my sister. Though we’re not identical twins, we look a lot alike. Her facial features are a bit harder than mine, and of course she has a beautiful head of hair. Our eyes are nearly indistinguishable, except her lashes are longer.

Mine will be again, I keep telling myself.

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