Page 114 of Powerful Deception

Ella gives me a nod. “I am because we both know that Bennett wouldn’t be able to pull it off.”

“She’s right on that count.” Bennett chimes in, praising his wife.

I nod. “Arianna was just telling me how she loves everything.”

I feel her stiffen next to me, which tells me that something is definitely up.

“Oh really? Well Arianna, do you want a look around? I would love to explain a few of the flower arrangements to you.” Ella offers, holding out a hand for Arianna to take.

I look over at the woman that has quickly become the second woman in my life to capture a part of my heart and see her hesitating.

Maybe she’s afraid to leave my side.

Giving her hip a reassuring squeeze, I bend down to her ear and speak to her.

“Go. I’ll be right here when you get back.” I say.

Even with a few inches separating us, I can hear her swallow audibly as if she’s not sure, but eventually she nods her head.

“I would love to.” She says, composing herself and taking hold of Ella’s hand.

As soon as the women leave, Bennett wave over a waiter and grabs two glasses of scotch from the tray.

It's when we both have glasses in hand that he shoots me a question.

“You didn’t tell me that your nanny was Joseph Vitale’s daughter.” He accuses.

I give him a shrug. “You never asked who she was.”

Like me, Bennett had a strange relationship with Detective Vitale. They weren’t close by any means, but the detective made sure he had friends in high places just in case he needed to cash in a favor.

Bennett and I both know what the detective was up to when he met his untimely death. Just like we also know that it was those favors he held so tightly that killed him.

Given that he knew Joseph, it’s no surprise he knew who Arianna was when she introduced herself.

“Maybe I should have,” he takes a swig of his drink. “Why did you hire her in the first place?”

“She came to the club, thought I was holding auditions for dancers, Evelyn thought that she was a good fit and she needed the money. So I took her on.”

I take a drink myself, not really wanting to explain myself to the richest man in Chicago.

“She needed money?” Bennett asked, an eyebrow raised in my direction.

“Yeah, she needed money. Her dad had just fucking died, what was I going to do, tell her no?” Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow at him.

“When did you hire here?” Bennet throws out.

Without stopping to think about the reasoning behind his question, I answer. “Beginning of October.”

Bennett just nods at my answer as he continues to take small sips of his scotch.

Because curiosity killed the cat and all that, I ask. “Why?”

My friend takes a second to finish up his drink before setting it down on a close by table. The man square his shoulders and looks out to the room instead of meeting my questioning glare.

“Because a week after Vitale’s funeral, I made a donation of half a million dollars to Arianna Vitale. Unless, there are two Arianna Vitale’s in Chicago that had a father was murdered and Ella handed the check to the wrong person, that girl lied to you. She has money to keep her settled for a while.”

A whoosh of air leaves me, like I was just hit by a boulder. Not only does the air leave me, but all of the sudden I’m hit with this wave of anger.

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