Page 133 of The Stranger
“I’m Alexander Mancini,” he says, jutting out his chin, and even from our brief interaction, I can tell this man exudes confidence.
“Delilah,” I squeak.
“Delilah Prescott …my wife!” Spencer reiterates. “We’ll continue this another time, Mancini.”
The smile on the man’s face widens as Spencer leans forward to end the conference call without so much as a goodbye. I get the impression his reaction towards me was all show, to goad my husband.
“That was rude.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Spencer grumbles.
“I think you overreacted.”
“He was flirting with you, Delilah.”
“Were you jealous?” I ask, grinning.
“Yes! You are for my eyes only.”
I can’t be mad at him for saying that, because I’ve seen the attention he attracts from women when he is pushing our daughter around in her pram, and I don’t like it one bit.
I reach up and place my palm on the side of his face. “I only have eyes for one man … you.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he replies.
“Is he a new client? I’ve never seen him before.”
“No, I’ve been working with him for a few months now.”
“Oh.”
“His father is the head of the Italian Mancini crime family, but he has distanced himself from that life.”
I gasp as my hands move to cover Mia’s little ears. “As in Mafia?”
“Yes.”
“Is he the one you said pops kneecaps for fun?”
He barks out a laugh. “I said I know people that would be happy to break a leg to get someone to comply … there was never any mention of knee popping, Delilah.”
“I can’t believe we have Mafia clients. Is that even legal?”
“Technically, we don’t. As I said, he may have the Mancini blood running through his veins, but he lives a relatively crime-free life. With the odd exception here and there.”
“Relatively? The odd exception?”
“This is exactly why I never told you about him. What he does in his own free time is his business. Our company has created a few programs for him … that’s it. End of story.”
“End of story? What happens when his family gets taken down for all their criminal activities? Are we going to end up in prison as well, for our part in it?”
Spencer moves Mia to the side and drags me down onto his lap. “You are letting your imagination run away with you. Nobody is going to prison … least of all us.”
“That’s easy for you to say. What if we get called as the state’s witness? Will the mob put a hit out on us so we can’t testify against them?”
My husband throws back his head and laughs. “Sweetheart,” he says once he’s calmed down. “I created some accounting software for the nightclubs he owns. It is all legitimate. I’d never do anything to put you, our daughter, or this company in jeopardy.”
“Okay,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “Have I told you how much I love you today?”
