“Coulter?”
“No, you play dirty Mr. Mezzo, and myhusband doesn’t. He’ll come at you, but you will see him coming, and you willstill lose.”
“Then who?”
I smirk, “Alan Prescott. You don’t messwith his family, on any level.”
Rafael nods. “Yes, I know how that goes.”
“And yet you threaten my family.”
“It’s business.”
“Not when you threaten people.”
He scrunches his brow like he doesn’tunderstand what I’m saying. “Mild intimidation at best, I assure you.”
Anger shoots up burning hot and I stand,my hands clenching into fists. “You call dragging me here against my will,mild?” Tears spill over my cheeks. “You call sicking your dog on me—” I pointover at Mr. Not Important. “Threatening me, making passes at me, scaring theshit out of me, and then giving me a roofie, mild intimidation?” I scream.
Rafael stands, looking shocked. “Mel, isthat true?”
Melvin grunts and then shrugs. “He toldme to do what it took.”
“He, who the hell is he?” I seethe.
“The boss.” Melvin mutters.
I look at Mezzo. “Aren’t you the boss?” Iraise my hands, exasperated.
“Unfortunately, I am not.”
I just stare open mouthed at Rafe. That’sit, that’s all I get? You’ve got to be kidding me? “Oh gee-wiz that tells menothing.” I rant, my anger overtaking me. “Thanks so much for clarifying.”
Mr. Martins stands, but Rafael steps outfrom behind his desk. “Don’t even think about it Mel. What the hell have youdone?”
“My job.” He spits.
The statue catches my eye again. I glanceat the two men who are now in a heated debate. In Elvis’ words, it’s ‘now ornever’. I pick up the statue. I’m expecting it to be heavy, but it’s not. Iknow these statues. I spent endless hours hovering over them, cleaning them.And I know this statue is fake.
“Just put it down.” Melvin Martins warns.I look up and my eyes go immediately to the silver metal object in his hand. Agun.
My eyes get wide, and I take two stepsback.
“Kate, just do as he asks,” Rafaelpleads.
“I hope you didn’t pay what this statuewas appraised for. You, Mr. Martins, are a very bad man. You seem to care moreabout this statue than Rafe does. Why is that? What’s the big damn deal?”
“Put the goddamn statue down,” Melvinscreams at me.
“It represents being a part of thefamily.” Rafe offers, walking towards me.
Then I understand. This is a piece ofItalian history; it’s one of the four Loggatta Gods: Apollo, Mercury, Pallasand Peace. “You’re one of the four heads,” I say, thinking out loud. This is asymbol of that. And then I remember, the buyer for the statues, an older manwith stark white hair, olive skin and dark eyes. “Vincenzo Mezzo.”
I look up and both men’s faces arecovered in shock. “How do you know that name?” Rafe asks.
“Hebought the statues.”
“How do you know that?” Rafe seems, well, the word that comes to my mind isscared.
