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“Sir.”
Pasquale, my right-hand man, enters with purpose, and I growl, “It’s too early.”
“There’s something you should know.”
My ears prick up because Pasquale would only interrupt me if it was important, and I jerk my thumb toward the chair set before the flickering flames in the grate.
I pour him a whiskey and top up my own glass and then regard him through narrowed eyes, waiting to hear something I’m not gonna like. “Your stepmother.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention as soon as that name falls from his lips because I couldn’t hate anyone more than I do that woman.
“What about her?” I almost spit the last word because any mention of Diana Corlietti rouses the beast inside me, and Pasquale wastes no time.
“She has a sister.”
“I see.”
This is news to me because so far we have discovered very little information about the woman who destroyed all our lives and it wasn’t for lack of trying.
“A sister.”
I swirl the liquid around my glass and wonder how best we can use this to our advantage.
I glance across at my closest confidante, and the unusual excitement in his eyes stirs my interest.
“She’s here.”
Just two words that cause the sleeping lion that rests inside my soul to lift its head and sharpen its claws.
“Is she now?”
I take a moment to absorb the information and Pasquale adds, “She’s the guest of Senator Billings.”
“A whore?”
I’m surprised when Pasquale shakes his head.
“She works for Desdemona Gray at the Barrington gallery. I’m guessing she’s here to secure his business for another year.”
“Then sheisa whore.”
Pasquale laughs and his eyes flash as he grins. “Not in the usual sense, but we all know what Desdemona expects from her staff. Especially the pretty ones.”
When I think of the woman who has fallen to her knees before me many times, I must agree with him. Desdemona herself is the biggest whore around because she will do anything to keep her gallery in business. A blow job in exchange for securing another sale worth millions, among other things. I’d like to say she was worth it, but my experience of that woman makes my blood run cold. However, Pasquale has tossed a grenade into the room and I’m about to pull the pin because if this woman is Diana Corlietti’s sister, she deserves everything coming to her.
“How do you know?”
I’m mildly curious, not doubting Pasquale for a second, but we have found no leads at all on my stepmother and I’m curious.
“I saw them arrive on the monitor.”
“And that’s your information?”
I raise my eyes and he nods. “At first I believed it was Diana herself. The resemblance is astonishing. I checked the guest list and noticed she was added this morning as a replacement for the senator’s long-suffering wife. Her name is Flora Corlietti. I’d say that’s proof enough.”
“Why wasn’t that name picked up before now?”
I feel the tension enter the room because everyone in my operation knows I must be informed the moment that name is mentioned, and Pasquale shifts in his seat.
