“Mr. Neri will see you now.” He presses a button and the gates open.
The Maserati rumbles up the cobblestone driveway.
“Wow, Cipi, that was impressive,” Dominic glances at me. “I may hate the crown, but you make it look sexy when you put it on. I wouldn’t want to mess with you.”
I smile. Once again Dominic is proving how hot and cold he is. “Don’t make me hurt you, Dom, I’m sore but still armed,” I joke.
He chuckles. “You always know how to spice up my life.”
I grin. “Well, maybe when we finish work, I’ll light it on fire for you.”
“A very intriguing offer, boss.”
I laugh. Looking through the windshield, I catch sight of Valerio’s Romanesque mansion built of marble and stone. Gargoyles are perched along the edges of the roofline, their faces leering down at us.
Dominic parks the car near a circular fountain.
We get out of the car and walk to the massive oak doors.
Before we reach the top step, the entrance opens and a butler smiles at us.
“Good afternoon, Miss Capuano and Mr. Cartieri, Mr. Neri will see you now.” The lines in his face crease like an accordion as he smiles. Then he turns and beckons us to follow him.
As we follow him through a grand foyer dripping with chandeliers, my mind races.
What am I going to say to him?
Part of me just wants to call him a liar and tell him I know he tried to murder me. But I am in another mafia leader’s territory without backup. That was a pretty stupid decision. I should have thought this through, but Valerio doesn’t scare me.
I can’t come out and accuse him of trying to off me. He would find that insulting and it might make me look bad in the eyes of the other families. I roll my eyes. There always has to be levels to this shit.
Glancing at the portraits of the Neri family lining the walls, my stomach twists as I see the majority of them feature Valerio.
Of course that snake would only hang portraits of himself on the walls.
Dominic’s eyes also scan the photos.“Someone’s a little bit full of himself, isn’t he?”
“Narcissist is the word I’m thinking of,” I whisper.
The butler ushers us through dark maple doors into a sitting room. Valerio Neri sits in a leather armchair, swirling a glass of wine in his hand.
His presence reminds me of a villain in a movie. Dark hair slicked back, navy suit fitted to his frame, gold jewelry and expensive watch glint in the dim lighting. His gray eyes are cold and stare at me with disgust.
“Ah Signorina Capuano, and Mr. Cartieri.” He rises to his feet to shake our hands. “I didn’t think I would see you together after the gala but here you are, together again. You’re not going straight on us, now, Cipriani, are you? The underworld would hate to lose such a valuable person as yourself.”
“Dominic is not in the FBI anymore and you should know that,” I shoot back.
“Of course, of course, he runs that little investigation firm for all the rich people.” He places his glass on the table next to him and gestures for us to sit down on the sofa. “Well then, sit down and let’s get this over with. I had a feeling you’d be appearing at my door.”
“You did?” I settle into the couch. “Rachel talked to you?”
“Yes, she phoned me after you two left my penthouse. It’s almost cute how the two of you are tag teaming this.”
Dammit, I knew Rachel would never keep her mouth shut. Now how should I word this?
“Since you know we paid Rachel a little visit, then you can explain why you paid to cause a distraction at my house.”
His eyebrows arch. “I did no such thing. Rachel is young and sometimes gets things mixed up. You know she loves to hit the wine extra hard after a long day.”
