“When do I leave?”
“Tomorrow. You’ll have carte blanche to handle the situation as you see fit while searching for this bastard.”
I offered a sly smile. “I’ll enjoy the hunt.” I stood, knowing he’d said the only few things necessary. “Take care of your family.”
“I intend to.” He fiddled with his beer bottle a bit more before lifting his head. The darkness in his eyes was telling of exactly what he would do once the assassin was found. “I want all those who provided any assistance handled.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I mean what I said. Find the fucker.”
“I’ll find him. Don’t worry.” I shoved the envelope into my jacket, heading for the door then stopped. “Kazimir, I hope it’s not the case, but the Ghost was also the name of the assassin sent to kidnap your now wife. You know who hired them.”
Kazimir sighed. “Kirill. If it’s my brother, I want him alive. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make him suffer.”
Mikhail. A man Kazimir would have laid down his life to protect, the same one who decided to make his own flesh and blood suffer. I’d love to kill the bastard myself, but Kazimir deserved the honor.
“Yes, sir. The torture will be savage.”
CHAPTER 2
Vivian
“The perfect man. There is no such thing.” Now I’d resorted to mumbling to myself as the wheels of my carryon bag jumped over a nonexistent bump in the Travertine stone floor. I almost twisted my back while yanking it forward, breathing heavily out of increasing frustration.
They were the last words my cousin had said right before sharing the news that she wouldn’t be returning with me to New York.
The glorious one-week trip to Rome was supposed to be the highlight of my year, including the return in first class, which had been a maid of honor gift along with my one-day pass to some fancy airport private club. Although my sister hadn’t been able to afford that, her husband had likely provided the surprise luxury, although I’d only discovered the upgrade upon my arrival at the airport.
Maybe it had been a bribe to keep my cool.
How classy. A note provided by the woman who’d checked me in.
Men were truly all alike.
Grumbling about the man my sister was in love with wasn’t going to win me any points.
The same went for my cousin and her absence.
Unfortunately, my travel companion and all-around wicked partner in crime had bagged on me at the last minute. The very last minute, damn her! She’d decided only that morning to head to the sunny beaches of Santa Marinella with a handsome stranger she’d met at the wedding.
It wasn’t as if I was jealous of either one. Well, maybe I was just a little bit, especially since I’d been thrust into my mother’s complicated clutches, both her tone and her questions-more-like-accusations had centered around why I remained single.
I was the oldest, and certainly not getting younger.
If I’d stop being a controlling bitch, my mother’s exact words after consuming a full bottle of Krug champagne, then I could find a decent husband.
The truth was that my father and uncle had a list of men I could marry, all beneficial to the family name and bank accounts. I wasn’t interested.
My career stood in the way of fulfilling my dreams. No, they were my mother’s dreams and why? Because I was a commodity.
Besides, I had a damn good reason I wasn’t living in the Hamptons in my ten-million-dollar house driving my two-hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle and from what I remembered, the fiery crash had little to do with my… bitchy side.
Evidently, my aunt wasn’t nearly as harsh on Kathleen, even encouraging her to ‘live a little’ with the hottie from Sicily.
Who met a man while sucking down a four-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne at a festive reception only to decided two days later to head to a tropical destination? Not this girl. Certainly, never again.
While Riccardo was an old chum of the groom and they’d been smoking hot together on the dance floor, I had a feeling Kathleen would leave Rome disappointed. Maybe satisfied sexually in every way, but the playboy would never fly to the United States. Maybe that was my problem. I wasn’t interested in a fling. I’d never been a one-night stand kind of girl.
