Page 10 of Scarlet Angel

Alessio sees me and steps away from his wife. Lina, for once, does as I ask and approaches Scarlet.

“The service was beautiful,” I say.

He sniffs into a handkerchief. “It’s a beautiful resting spot.” He lifts his spectacles, wipes below his eyes, and lets the spectacles fall back into place on the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you for flying us out here, but we’ll take the car back.”

Given his wife was rather green during the helicopter ride, his statement isn’t surprising. The hired driver, dressed in a black overcoat, waits by the back of the limousine. Alessio’s wife meanders toward the car. His sister-in-law, Scarlet’s mother, stands near the folding chairs, watching Lina and her daughter.

“I appreciate your offer for Scarlet to stay back. She’s taken the events hard.”

I nod, both hands behind my back.

“Catarina agrees it’s a good idea to give her time to grieve. This coming weekend will be eventful, and…” Overtaken with emotion, he places the white linen handkerchief over the bridge of his nose and the spectacles slide up to his forehead.

The level of emotion he’s displaying is unexpected for a mafia man. Perhaps this is a reason he was passed over for the capo position in favor of Massimo. I had a scout attend Massimo’s brother’s funeral, and the capo didn’t shed a tear.

“I’ll arrange a return flight for her,” Alessio says after he’s pulled himself together.

This weekend, according to a source, Alessio’s fifteen-year-old son will become a made man. From what I understand of the Lupi Grigi’s methods, this will involve Orlando’s first kill of some poor sap and a boisterous party with hookers and whores.

I lack empathy for a man mourning his daughter while planning the death of someone else’s son.

“She’s welcome to stay as long as she wishes. There’s a lot of history in the area, should she choose to explore. And as you can see, my sister and Scarlet are hitting it off.”

“Scarlet would like to go through Willow’s things. Choose which items to send home.”

“Of course.”

“Willow sent her photos of her London flat. Scarlet said she wants to see it in person.” His gaze never tracks to his niece.

“That can be arranged.”

“And her studio.”

“Of course.”

“I’m not sure her mother or I…” He sniffles, and I clasp his shoulder. I think little of the man, but I’m not a beast.

The reading of the will will be next week. I inherited everything from Leo Sullivan. He updated his will for his estate to go to his young wife, but in the event she was deceased, the estate passed to me. It’s crossed my mind to gift the flat to Scarlet, but she might discover some unique attributes that would pique her curiosity. Leo’s hidden gun safe comes to mind. Given he had unknown partners, it’s likely he equipped his loft with additional features without my knowledge. With proper adjustments, perhaps it can be gifted. I’ll need to explore it first. Hire the right crew.

Gagliano wipes his ruddy nose once more and shoves the handkerchief into a coat pocket. He offers me his hand, and I’m grateful for my gloves.

Dorian leans against the sedan, observing. Someone out there knows Leo was our leak. Did word spread throughout the syndicate? Is Dorian here to verify the funeral? His old man has always used him like a tool. I could see him sending him on an errand. Whatever the reason for his appearance, my mate’s in no apparent rush.

Scarlet and Willow’s young brother are deep in conversation, and the way her mother is watching, she doesn’t approve. Of the family members, Scarlet’s mother has displayed the least amount of emotion, and now she’s impatient, flitting her gaze between the cousins and the waiting vehicle.

My gut tells me she wants her daughter to return with her. Perhaps Orlando wishes the same. But unfortunately for those two, the brilliant dame is coming home with me.

CHAPTER4

SCARLET

“Orlando, don’t do it.”

He looks over my head with a frown, eyes glassy. I wrap my fingers around his wrist to strengthen my plea.

At fifteen, he’s taller than me, but he has yet to grow into his frame. He swipes at his eyes while peering over my head, no doubt searching for his father, the man he reveres.

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