Page 51 of Scarlet Angel

“Massimo, I don’t permit threats.” My fingers tap out a beat on the desk. These fuckwads don’t get it.

“Send her home, and we’ll be good.”

“Will we now? Because you see, that also sounds like a threat. Do you really want the weight of the syndicate crashing down on you?”

“All for a girl?”

“All on principal. Do not threaten me. Ever.”

I end the call. That won’t be the end, but I bought a few days for him to stew.

If Massimo called me, does that mean Gagliano has called Scarlet? Has she told her uncle she’s not returning? It’s one thing to defy her mother, but has she defied her boss?

I leave the office in search of the strong-willed beauty. Obviously, Scarlet will remain under my protection from the thugs. It’s a good job we’re cutting those bastards off at the knees. Threatening me. The chap’s not the brightest.

Of course, he’s unaware I’ve traced his theft. I don’t want it getting out. Makes me look weak. But when I visit him in prison, I’ll be certain to let him know he didn’t pull off the perfect heist. Bastard thought he could hack one of my shell companies and walk away unscathed. He’s no idea I’ve traced it to him. But he will.

I find Scarlet in the stable, head bent, talking to a stable hand who came with the estate. He’s in his twenties, fit, and loves horses more than money. The chap’s name is Thomas or Ben or something ordinary. His head is bent, and her hand is on his shoulder.

I slow my steps, watching. Their voices are low and indistinguishable.

He brushes a hand over his forehead, and as he does so, he picks up on me in his periphery and jerks straight. He nods and sods off to a stall, pitchfork in one hand, like an unruly boy caught red-handed in the ginger snaps.

A smile brightens Scarlet’s face upon seeing me, and she joins me in the breezeway.

“Making friends?” I shouldn’t ask, but I do. It’s my fucking property.

“I overheard his phone conversation. Ben’s going through a tough spot.”

“How so?”

“He’s overdrawn on credit. His wife’s worried they may lose their flat.”

“Is that right?”

“He might not want me telling you that.”

“Mum’s the word.” That’s a phrase I haven’t used in eons. The guy told her he’s married and broke. He’s not hitting on her. I guess I read him wrong. And what about Scarlet? She’s empathetic to someone in a tight spot. I suppose I should be, too. I’ll have Ash look into his situation, see what we can do.

Scarlet looks at me expectantly. I did come out here to find her, but I don’t want to talk where we might be overheard.

“Fancy a walk?”

She nods, and together we stroll toward the garden by the main house.

“Got a call earlier,” I say, side-eying her.Can I trust her?

“I imagine a man like you receives many calls.”

“From Massimo De Luca.”

She comes to an abrupt stop and scans the grounds like she expects men to leap out of the shrubbery and tie her down.

“Are you sending me back?”

“I told you I won’t.”I keep my word. “You’ve gotten a call, too. Who?”

“Who called me?” she asks, wrapping her middle with her arms. She drops her head and resumes the forward motion. I barely nod in response. Scarlet understands the question, and this is her buying time. “My mother called a couple of days ago. I told you.”

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