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Venomous Throne

Page 40

by Alexa Michaels

I gave the waiter a smile and shooed him away.

“Is it…wise?” Father Donelli whispered. “You know what they say about the chianti.”

Annoyed from the interview earlier with the wicked Moretti witch, I scanned the street. My skin crawled.

“You know what they call me. You’ve heard the whispers about what I did.” I paused as the waiter returned, uncorked the wine, and poured my glass. After I tasted and allowed him to fill it, I sent him away. “Do you believe me capable of such actions, father?”

Donelli held my gaze. “No, signora.”

That was surprising. “Am I not a sinner, like the rest of them?”

“Yes, but you are aware of your human condition, and you seek to do good despite it.” Donelli sipped his gin.

Considering his words, I watched a songbird swoop onto a garbage can.

But it was the movement beyond the can, at the corner of the alley, that caught my attention.

I quickly looked away. This time, I realized the feeling on my skin wasn’t an itch, but a tingle. Pleasure, not annoyance.

He’s watching me again.

The last thing I wanted to do was let the stray know and create the unintentional result of shooing him away.

“Can you financially afford to do more in the community, signora?” Donelli leaned forward conspiratorially.

“Soon.” I took a long sip of my wine. “I want plans in place, so that when I am ready, action can come quickly.”

“Not wasting any time,” he muttered. “That’s good.”

“No, I’m not.”

Our food came, interrupting the conversation. The priest blessed the meal, and then we fell into silence as we dug into our first bites.

I was keenly aware of the eyes focused on me from outside.

Jaxon didn’t leave.

The tingle down my spine made perfect sense now.

I felt it often. The stray had been following me around the neighborhood, always watching, always waiting. I couldn’t bring myself to mind.

My men were suspicious. So what? They should be. It was their job to watch out for me and our interests. But I trusted the beast. I knew what I saw in that silver gaze.

If only there was some way to lay breadcrumbs, to coax him closer. But it was as if Jaxon was scared of civilization and, by default, me.

“When will the change go into effect?” Donelli asked, breaking my mental rollercoaster.

“Soon.” I dabbed the napkin at the corner of my mouth. “I want the city to come and fix the pavement and the roads. Immediately. No red tape.”

My pointed look had the priest nodding. “I know a few commissioners on the board.”

“Good. See that there are funds for their quarterly bonuses once the work begins and more when the work is finished,” I instructed, toying with my wine glass.

“Will the dowager have anything to say on the matter?” Donelli rubbed his chin.

“Not that I care to hear. I’m in charge now,” I responded flatly. “Signora Moretti is of little consequence, as are her sons.”

The priest narrowed his eyes. If he suspected foul play, he kept that to himself, choosing to embrace the present and progress over extinguished bonds of arcane loyalty.