For the next year or so, I held my end of the deal, played the role of a husband, stayed out of trouble, and, more importantly, kept away from the Gallo women.
Something was not right in that family. I could smell it and feel it in every nook and cranny of that house.
Dark clouds hovered over that space, dripping with horrible stories, which wasn’t my business.
I was a man with a plan, and I stuck with it.
She wasn’t much better at her mother's funeral.
During the time I spent in their house, she evolved into a ravenous, curious woman who, for the first time, got her claws out.
Her family was faster than her and planned her immediate departure.
The shock on her face, the hatred in her stare, and the trembling of her lips solidified my belief that it was the right thing to do.
She needed to spend some time away from everyone in that house, myself included.
I’m not so sure about that now, though.
She’s more dangerous, more desirable.
More potent.
More determined to pursue whatever she’s set to pursue, and she’s even more stubborn.
She’s also the enemy, the wild card who can throw a wrench in my plans, the linchpin of a complete disaster.
She’s a pain I can’t indulge in right now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look at her.
She’s long gone, swallowed up by the groups of people who, if I heard that right, are here for her.
Word is that Giorgio is about to trade her off for some new territory he’d like to control, more money, or simply to show his granddaughter who is in charge, or get in the good graces of some mob lord looking for a wife.
I’m not into sadistic endeavors, so I can’t say I’d willingly participate in the slaughtering of this little lamb, but something deep inside me makes me change my plans for the evening.
“What about we call it a night?” I say with a semi-cold smile as I turn to Vittoria. “My driver will take you home,” I say in response to the woman’s flash of surprise.
Tenderly, I brush my fingers over her forearm.
“I don’t want to keep out here while I attend some family business inside. It might take a while,” I add in the same monotonous voice.
“All right?” I add, peeling off my touch.
She quickly gets the hint.
A seasoned woman, Vittoria tilts her head and gives me a smile while I signal to one of my men to walk her off the property.
Once she’s out of my sight, I pick up a drink from a server’s tray, take a sip, run a hand over my tie, and head inside.
It somehow dawns on me that I haven’t checked Vittoria’s dress once, yet I can describe in detail how every bit of fabric has hugged Leilani Gallo’s curves.
13
LEILANI
Sadly,Paxton Maclean turns right and heads to the guests clumped up in the big dining room, while I continue walking toward the back of the house, where a smaller room, but just as sumptuous, is set for us.
The place is draped in warm candlelight as quiet servers wait for us to get seated.
