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I take the dress and some underwear, grab a pair of shoes, and then take them back down to her. She’s sitting on the end of the bed with the blanket wrapped around her, still looking dazed, like she’s in the middle of a dream. She’s fixed her hair and makeup and she looks good enough to eat.
“Wear this,” I say, passing her the clothes. “Adrian will collect you from the study in five minutes.” I kiss her on the forehead. “Remember, my father must think we’re in love. Act affectionate.”
“I’ll try,” she says with a smile. “Go down on you in front of him, that kind of thing?” She giggles. “I’m kidding. You should see the look on your face.”
“This is serious. Take it seriously.”
“Sure, sorry.” She looks hurt by the tone of my voice.
“Good girl,” I say, kissing her again. “See you up there.”
I head back up the stairs and go find my father. He’s sitting in my favorite armchair with a cigar in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other. “Thought the doctor told you to cut those out,” I say, pouring myself a drink before joining him.
“Old age is going to kill me before lung cancer gets the chance,” he replies. “These are good cigars. You are burning through my money, aren’t you?”
“What, as opposed to Michael?”
He snaps suddenly. “I am not here to discuss Michael.”
“There’s a surprise. He paid you back for the Vegas trip yet?”
“That is not your concern. I am dealing with his finances. That is all you need to know. You are getting too big for your boots, my boy. You are not Don yet. Perhaps Michael will take over. He has set a date for his wedding. Have you heard?”
The idea chills my blood. That means time is running out. I will have to speed up my plans. “When is it?” I ask, trying to appear indifferent.
“Six months time. He wants a summer affair. The invites go out next week.”
“I see.”
“You don’t sound too worried. Do you not care that he might take charge instead of you? Are you that indifferent to the future of the family business?”
“Six months is a long time. A lot can happen between now and then.”
“You think you can find a woman and arrange a wedding in that time?”
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we.”
He looks at me closely. “How are you? You ill?”
He never asks that. The question gets me on edge at once. I sit back and try to appear relaxed. “Fine.”
A smile flickers across his lips. “You had a head injury recently?”
“No.”
“You sure? No physical condition that affects your ability to think straight?”
“What are you getting at?”
His smile vanishes. “I only ask because Tony Belucci is dead at your hand at their bar in New York and there must be an explanation for this. Did you crash your car perhaps? Get a concussion? Only for you to choose to arbitrarily break the truce in front of witnesses, you must have an injury of some kind. Witnesses who lived. You were sloppy. Killed Tony but left the other two to tell the tale. So you explain to me what is wrong with you, Vincenzo? Why would you kill a Belucci without seeking my consent or, at least, the approval of the commission?”
“He deserved to die. He was trying to kidnap two women.”
“Since when do you involve yourself in such petty affairs?” He wags a finger, nodding slowly. “These women mean something to you? You let your cock make your business decisions? Is that it?”
Adrian picks this moment to bring Ophelia into the room. She walks in, looking stunning in the dress. How does she manage to make something so conservative look so good?
She’s acting like she overheard part of our conversation. She’s staring at me with apprehension clear in her face, her eyes wide. I never planned to tell her what I did to Tony but she’s found out anyway.
