Page 57 of Dishonorable


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“What was Vincent Moriarty doing at your hotel yesterday?” It came out harsher than I’d intended.

The lone sound of a fork on a dish, then everything went quiet. The manager cleared his throat and focused on picking tiny crumbs of bread off the table.

“Mr. Moriarty is a business developer in this area. I’m surprised your husband hasn’t mentioned him.”

“His name is Raphael. Just Raphael. Not Amado. Not ‘your husband.’ And he has. That’s exactly why I’m wondering what you were doing with him.”

“Ah.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“The property that I am buying for you, Moriarty has an interest in it as well.”

“Your meeting was over buying a piece of land?”

“What did you think? What sort of business did you expect me to be in? Perhaps I’m not the man Raphael has painted me to be, Sofia.”

Had Raphael lied to me? Was Moriarty legitimate and not a thug at all, like he’d described him? What was his relationship with Moriarty? And why had the man given me chills?

“I…I didn’t know.”

“Well, unfortunately, our meeting wasn’t as fruitful as Moriarty would have liked. Truthfully, he tried to convince me the property I wanted wouldn’t be in my best interests to buy.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter, really, and neither does he. The bid is in. That’s all that matters.”

I was grateful then that the women brought dessert out. My grandfather made a show of how it looked too beautiful to be eaten, and the women smiled, blushing a little even. I watched him, this side of him different to the man I knew, charming almost. Not a man capable of doing the things Raphael claimed he did. Certainly not capable of threatening a man’s life.

But then again, didn’t my presence here, didn’t the ring that weighed heavy on my finger, prove otherwise?

Although Grandfather smiled, something cold settled in his eyes, and it chilled me.

I needed to tread very carefully here. Liars came in all shapes and sizes.

So did monsters.

Chapter Eighteen

Raphael

The looks on their faces when they saw me approach their cozy little lunch was priceless. I wished I had a camera. Shock and awe felt about the right words to describe it. At least as far as Sofia went. I had a feeling the old man expected me.

When Eric had called to tell me neither she nor the dog were anywhere to be found, I knew exactly where she would be. Or at least whom she’d be with. She had ignored me completely and done the opposite of what I’d said. Which I guess meant she hadn’t ignored me completely. I did always try to see the silver fucking lining.

I’d called the hotel in Siena where her grandfather was staying, and it had taken only a few minutes for me to get them to tell me where their driver was taking him. Guardia Winery.

“Well, well, what a surprise,” Marcus said, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

I ignored him, my eyes on my disobedient wife instead. In that moment, I realized I couldn’t name the storm of emotions swirling inside me. They were too confused, too strange.

“Nice lunch?” I forced my voice to sound calm, but it didn’t. Not by a long shot.

Charlie yapped at her feet, his leash secured under her chair the only thing keeping him from running to me. As if I were his master to greet.

“Yes, it was,” she said, taking the napkin off her lap and setting it beside her plate. “We’re out of dessert, or I’d offer you some.” She rose to her feet, surprising me.

“Are you leaving?” her grandfather asked. “So soon?”

“If Raphael came all this way to get me, I don’t want to keep him waiting. He has a lot of meetings. Busy man, you know.”

She said good-bye to the men.

“Just a minute, Sofia,” her grandfather said.

She stopped. He nodded to the manager, who’d reached into his pocket to produce two keys on a ring. Marcus took them and held them out to her.

“These will open the gate down below when it’s locked as well as the house itself.”

She looked confused.

“Take it. It’s still yours, after all.”

She reached out her hand to take the keys. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

A moment later, she turned to me. “You didn’t have to come pick me up. My grandfather would have dropped me off.”

I fumed. My fingernails dug into my palm. When I got her home…

“Get your dog, and let’s go,” I snapped.

“Like I said, you didn’t have to come.”

Her grandfather watched us, barely able to keep the pleased smile from his face. She picked Charlie up, and I had the feeling she was working very hard to keep from having to meet my eyes.

Once she reached me, I took her arm and tugged her close.

“Let go.”

“I should get you a leash.”

“I bet you’d like that. Jerk.”

“Coming here with him was a stupid thing to do.”

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