Page 2 of The Enforcer


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“What was? I don’t understand.”

“That’s typical of you, Flora. You have never understood and probably never will.”

“Then tell me.” My voice quivers because I realized from an early age never to ask questions because in our world the answers aren’t what you want to hear and this is no exception as she says almost with happiness, “She was murdered by Mrs. Matasso.”

“No!” The tears break free, and I sob, “What are you saying?”

She shrugs. “Save your tears baby sister because our mother was caught screwing the great man himself and his wife took exception to that.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean, screwing?”

Diana just laughs out loud and says in the voice that always made my blood run cold.

“Fucking, Flora. Our mom was Carlos Matasso’s whore, and his wife wasn’t happy about that. She took a knife to her heart and cut it out and ended up dead because of it.”

I stare at her in complete shock, not really understanding what is happening and then she leans closer and sneers in my face. “Do you realize what this means.”

“No.” My voice trembles as she hisses, “A fucking war. Giselle’s family will seek revenge, and our father will fight to save the man who was screwing his wife. If that’s not fucked up, I don’t know what is and guess what, little sis?”

She throws her head back and laughs out loud. “I can’t fucking wait to watch them all burn.”

There has always been something deeply disturbing about Diana Corlietti. I’ve always known that ever since I learned to crawl as a baby. I have watched her over the years develop into a great beauty, innocent and bewitching on the outside but rotten to the core inside. She has always scared me, but not half as much as she does now because it appears that the deepest pain in our life this far has released her tainted soul from its hiding place.

At this moment I am more afraid than I’ve ever been, and it’s not because of a future without our parents. It’s because she is walking beside me into mine, and that scares me more than anything.

CHAPTER1

FLORA

NINE YEARS LATER

Senator Billings makes my flesh creep. I wish I had never agreed to this, but he is such a huge benefactor to our gallery I had no choice. My boss Desdemona Gray gave me no choice, really. Accompany him to a swanky event and secure his patronage for another year.

“Champagne?” He reaches for the bottle in the ice bucket beside him and pours me a glass, leaning forward as he hands it to me without waiting for my answer.

There is no point in telling him I don’t drink because he won’t be interested in that. In fact, I’m certain the only thing he’s interested in ends with me beneath him later on tonight. I’m not a fool. I understand how things works in Vegas. A rich, important man believes he has free access to any woman he wants for the right price. This time the price on my head is worth millions and will ensure the gallery continues to enjoy its position as the premier art gallery in town.

I can still remember the ice in Desdemona’s voice as she issued the ultimatum.

“If you want a career in the art world, you must grow up and realize it comes at a price. If you’re not up to the job, there are plenty more where you came from, which would be a waste of a promising young talent. Play by the rules and who knows, you may even get your own art exhibition out of it. One night with our business benefactor is a small price to pay for your future career. Don’t blow it.”

“To a satisfying evening.”

The senator raises his glass to mine and licks his full wet lips as he openly drools at me from across the limo. There is no mistaking his intention regarding me tonight, and a slight shiver freezes my blood as he openly undresses me with his eyes.

I wish I hadn’t worn such a revealing dress, but Desdemona insisted on it. She took me to the store and personally selected it and at first I was overawed by how beautiful it was.

Long, flowing gray silk that appeared to be cut from molten steel. It lapped around my ankles and clung to my curves, holding them so gently it made me sigh with pleasure. I have never owned a dress like this and the fact she insisted I wear nothing underneath so as not to disturb the flow of the fabric, makes me wonder if that was the real reason at all. I can tell my nipples are straining against the soft silk due to the fact I’m freezing. The bastard has the temperature so low I am shivering, not only from fear but from the cold as well. The champagne isn’t helping and then the reason for it becomes clear as he says with a lecherous wink, “You appear cold, my dear. Why don’t you slide in beside me and I’ll warm you up?”

His meaning is clear and the message flashing in his eyes warns me not to refuse, but I pretend to ignore it and just smile sweetly.

“It’s fine. Thank you. I’m very happy sipping this amazing champagne and am keen to learn more about your interest in Art. I heard you are one of the most knowledgeable connoisseurs of the masters and I’ve been looking forward to hearing your thoughts about them.”

I rest the champagne glass against my lips and hold my breath because I need this job and don’t want to give him any reason to doubt my sincerity. However, flattery obviously works because he puffs up with his own self-importance and proceeds the bore the pants off me, that is, if I was wearing any, and speaks about his own discernment for the remainder of our journey.

I am grateful for my quick thinking as the car pulls to the front of an insanely large house, telling me I have escaped one mauling at least, and I gaze out in wonder.

Houses like this don’t come cheap and certainly not in Vegas. In fact, it’s a little incongruous even for Vegas, and it strikes me it would be more at home in the English countryside as the home of a lord. A sprawling mass of tradition piques my interest because I have always been intrigued by the past. I devoured the history books and learned everything I could about English history, not to mention Italian and Greek. It’s my passion that is given a home when I unleash the artist inside me and paint what I see in my mind.

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