Page 57 of The Angel

CHAPTER32

FLYNN

Idon’t get nervous ever, but tonight is the exception to that rule. So much is riding on this, and it has to be a success, otherwise I will have failed my mission. There is still no word on the whereabouts of Massimo’s daughter even though Malik has been searching, using every resource he has. I just hope we get to her before Massimo does otherwise, we will have lost a vital weapon in our Arsenal.

The Capital Room is always Massimo’s preferred choice and every seat in the place will be filled with his men. Massimo likes to conduct his business there but under the close guard of his trusted soldiers.

As we enter the restaurant, I can tell that Louisa is nervous and I grip her hand hard, desperate to reassure her. Dimitri has equipped us with state-of-the-art listening devices and Pedro is standing by with his men to get us out of trouble if it starts going to shit.

The thing I’m most nervous about, though, is seeing Winter for the first time since college. I not sure how I’m going to control myself around her and physically ache for one hungry glance at her. Winter is the catalyst driving this, but even without her, we would be treading this path. It’s just more urgent now.

The waiter shows us to the middle table, and I note the curious glances of the other diners. Massimo’s men and their wives or girlfriends. I’m in no doubt about that and as we move through them, I sense their eyes burning a hole in my back. Louisa seems on edge, and I squeeze her hand reassuringly as we take our seats and stare at the menu.

We don’t speak out of fear of being overheard, and my thumping heart counts down to the bastard’s arrival.

Exactly on the dot of seven thirty, they arrive, and the air stills as pure evil enters the room. I stand out of respect and Louisa looks with interest at the woman beside a man old enough to be her father.

Nothing prepares me for the automaton that glides into the room beside her husband. It’s as if her soul is under lock and key because there is zero recognition or emotion in those dark eyes shrouded in mystery.

My first view of Winter in what is well over a year is not a good one. Gone is the happy, warm person she was and in its place is the cool, emotionless shell of the vivacious soul that once lived there. Her long black hair gleams as if waxed and hangs long down her back. She is wearing a red silk dress that outlines her slender frame and her perfectly made-up face accentuates a cold, hard beauty. She doesn’t even glance in our direction and glides rather than walks beside her aging husband.

Massimo himself rests a possessive arm on hers and I want to tear him apart with my bare hands for even touching the woman I have sworn to set free. Could I take him out now? I already know the answer to that which doesn’t make this situation any better. I wonder how Angelo held it together when he was in the same position as I am now and if anything, it hardens my resolve to end her nightmare and send her captor to hell, where he will fit in nicely.

I nod with respect as Massimo stares at me as if he wants to kill me outright, and I suppose he does. For all he knows, I am his son; the one who caused the death of the only woman he ever loved.

There are no pleasantries as Massimo says darkly, “Take a seat.”

He holds out Winter’s chair and I steal a look at possibly the kindest woman I have ever met and the most tragic. She barely reacts. It’s as if she is frozen and has no life left in her and my heart twists in agony at the suffering she must live through every day.

“Louisa, my darling niece.” Massimo has obviously decided she is the safer option here, and I sense her shiver with revulsion as he turns his attention to her.

“You are the image of your mother, such a terrible tragedy. You have my condolences, my dear.”

“Thank you.” Louisa can barely get the words out and as the waiter fills our glasses, the conversation stalls and is replaced by menace.

He moves away and Massimo says gruffly, “What’s the big secret you couldn’t wait to tell me?”

He directs his question to Louisa, but I’m guessing he is anticipating being told that I know he is my father. It’s almost amusing to string this out and then lay the killer blow, but I can’t stop staring at Winter, who gazes down at her plate as if she needs winding up.

“Well…”

Louisa takes a deep breath. “Flynn came to visit us in Seattle because of something he was told. He was after answers and it’s best if he tells the story.”

She leans back and I raise my guard and say in a dull voice, “My father’s consigliere was shot and with his last breath, he told me to find two people. Iris Young and Vivian Clark.”

Massimo nods but obviously doesn’t remember my mother and I say in a voice devoid of emotion. “I discovered Vivian was married to your brother, Dimitri, and flew to Seattle to discover the truth.” I fix him with a dark stare which only makes him smile with a sick, twisted look of satisfaction on his face.

“She told me she had been raped and beaten and left for dead.”

I glance at Winter for any reaction, but she continues staring at her plate.

Massimo shrugs. “Why does that concern me?”

“Because Wesley Vasquez told her it was you.”

I fix him with a searching look and to his credit, he looks shocked about that.

“He said it was me.” He says it slowly, as if confirming the details in his mind, and I nod.

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