Fina sighs and sends me a silent message that I receive loud and clear. I take a deep breath before speaking.
“As you all know, our family’s charitable foundation is fully committed to helping those less fortunate than us.” People nod as I breeze through the usual spiel, anxious to get this shit over with so we can leave.
By the time I’ve wrapped things up and implored those gathered here tonight to dig deep into their bottomless pockets, I feel like poking my eyes with sharp sticks. Fina joins me on the podium, thanks everyone, and then the charity auction begins.
“Is Marconi bothering you?” I murmur as we pass through the throngs of people near the edge of the room.
“He’s an asshole, but nothing I can’t handle,” she replies with a sigh. When we reach Chiara and Kane, Marconi is still hovering, only this time, his attention has drifted to my wife. And from her tense demeanor, she’s noticed and is not happy about it.
The coke must have obliterated his good sense. Nobody in their right mind would dare stare at my wife’s tits in front of me. Or ignore my sister, the woman he’s supposedly on a date with at our father’s behest.
Kane seems less than amused too, but he won’t do anything unless I give him permission. Marconi’s family has connections. If something too calamitous happens to the little cockroach, it could cause me problems.
I try hard to keep that nugget at the forefront of my mind while Fina checks her phone. Marconi drifts closer to Chiara. She ignores him, but he’s not deterred.
“You must be Angelo’s wife. I don’t think we’ve had a formal introduction,” he says while licking his lips and staring at her tits again.
“Fuck off.” She gives him a look that could strip paint from steel.
Marconi grins, undeterred as Chiara turns to my sister with a loud huff of annoyance. “Want me to punch your date in the dick, Fina?”
Fina bites back a smile and pushes her phone back in her clutch.
“No need, darling,” I interject. “Please excuse me for a moment while Travis and I have a quiet word.” The color leeches from Marconi’s face as he finally realizes he’s overstepped. Before he can protest, I grip his arm and lead him away from the main hall.
A few people nod as we pass, but nobody tries to stop me.
When we’re free of the main crowd, I push Marconi into a deserted side gallery filled with glass cases. A quick glance tells me this is the most boring fucking room in the entire museum. Weapons interest me but staring at cases of Bronze Age arrowheads is not on my list of things to do this evening.
“Look, Angelo, I’m sorry if I disrespected your, um, wife.”
“And my sister?” I shove the asshole back against a glass display cabinet. He throws his hands in the air in a half-assed apology.
“Look, dude, I may have overdone the happy powder this evening.” A loud sniff reinforces the statement. “Don’t suppose you have any on you? Could do with another hit.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Travis.” Is this asshole carrying a wire? I step back and shake my head, some ofmy anger dissipating. What the fuck am I doing? I shouldn’t have left Chiara. Fuck, she’s probably already brainstorming a distraction so she can escape while I waste time with Travis Fucking Marconi.
Deciding Travis isn’t worth my time, I pull a gun and press it to his dick.
“Tell your father Fina isn’t right for you and never look at my wife again. Are we clear?”
Marconi tries to push me back, still emboldened by the lines of coke he snorted earlier, but he’s a lot shorter and at least fifteen kilos lighter. I release the safety, and he freezes. The distinctive scent of urine fills the air, making me grimace. If he’s pissed all over my shoes, I will fucking bury him in an Egyptian sarcophagus. Damn the consequences.
“I’m sorry!” The blubbering fool whimpers and falls to the floor as I take a giant step back.
“Go to rehab, Travis, for fuck’s sake, before you get yourself arrested or killed.” I might still drop a call to a detective contact. Pretty sure he’d love to catch Marconi with his dealer. It would be a high-profile arrest for him, the sort of case that guarantees a promotion.
I stalk out of the room, kicking the door shut behind me. If Marconi has any sense, he’ll call his driver and leave before someone finds him.
There are no new messages on my phone, which tells me all is well, but before I can step back into the main hall, a strawberry blonde crosses my path with rage in her eyes. She folds her arms across her small tits and glares at me.
“You fucking bastard!”
20
Chiara
The other guests give me a wide berth. I guess the news of my volatility has spread. A server wanders past, and I snatch another glass of champagne. Booze is the only thing making the evening bearable.
