Page 100 of Forgotten Deeds

What is concerning, though, is the twinge of disappointment I felt because a certain deranged man with a big red dog tattoo wasn’t lurking outside the coffee shop waiting on me.

Chapter Forty

Lily

Dropping Iris off at summer camp, I drive to the address Nicky texted me. Pulling up to the gate, I press the button and announce myself, and the gate swings open. I continue down the driveway to a house that’s nice, but modest in comparison to the mega-mansion Darius and I visited for Sunday dinner.

A burly older man is waiting to greet me. “Hello, Mrs. Angelos. Let me check your bag real quick,” he says, and I hand it over. He runs a wand over it before handing it back.

The front door opens and Nicky appears. “Hey, Lily,” she says, holding the collar of a menacing-looking Doberman.

I instinctively take a step back.

The man whistles, and the dog runs over and heels.

“Come in.” Nicky smiles at me.

I gladly follow her inside to get away from the dog. “Thanks for the invite. Now that I’ve graduated, I’ve got all this time on my hands. It feels weird,” I admit.

“Congrats, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“I know what you mean. It’s definitely an adjustment for me now that I’m finished with school.” She leads me through the house, out back to a beautiful courtyard and pool. Motioning to a lounger, she pulls off her coverup and takes a seat, and I follow suit. “What would you like to drink? Water? Smoothie? Iced Coffee?”

“Iced coffee with cream and sugar would be amazing,” I say, rifling through my bag until I find my sunglasses, putting them on.

She grabs her phone and sends a text. “Is your daughter out of school for the summer?”

I nod. “Yes, but she’s enrolled in an art camp for the month.”

“Nice,” she comments. “You and Darius get some extra honeymoon time.” I must have made a face, because she asks, “Everything alright?”

“Not exactly,” I admit. “I’m just having trouble adjusting to his life. This life.” I can’t air all of Darius and my dirty laundry, but that’s the gist of it.

“Understandable. But it’s a package deal—the man and this life,” Nicky warns me gently.

“Yes, and I get that.” Darius told me Diávolos wasn’t a nickname when we first spent time together in the VIP room. My husband is, if anything, a man of his word.

An older woman approaches us, carrying a large tray. “Iced coffee with cream and sugar,” she says in an Italian accent, handing me a glass with a straw.

“Thank you.” I smile, accepting the glass.

“Of course. Strawberry smoothie,” the woman says, handing Nicky a glass.

“Thanks,” Nicky says cooly.

“And I brought cornetto and biscotti, along with juice and sparkling water,” she announces, sitting down the tray. “Please let me know if I can get you anything else.”

“That will be all.” Nicky nods curtly, and the woman walks off.

Nicky turns to me. “I’m not usually such a bitch, but I haven’t decided if I can trust Francesca or not,” she admits. “Try a chocolate cornetto. They’re my favorite.” She hands me a small plate.

“Amazing,” I say after taking a bite.

Valentina exits the pool house holding a binder, speaking animatedly with a man I recognize from the Parisi Construction crew.

“Valentina and Nonna are moving in,” Nicky explains. “Romeo’s building Nonna her own house on the property, and Valentina’s taking the pool house.”

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