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My eyes close in frustration. How could she be so stupid? I reach out, silently requesting him to hand me theproof.
The envelope slides into my palm, and I open my eyes reluctantly.
“Another thing.”
My stare penetrates his skull, my irritation bubbling under my skin.
“Alessia approached me recently and requested all contact information for Diego Greco, address included. The photos in your hand include ones of her in New York City. Entering Diego’s home.”
I clear my throat. “Is Caruso aware of their relationship?” Whatever it may be.
“Not to my knowledge, boss.”
I flick through the pictures, the first few of CJ Lincoln and my sister greeting one another with a warm embrace. The next few are stills captured from security footage in Lincoln Tower. CJ closing the blinds in his office, ensuring complete privacy.
They could be explained. I know they’re still dealing with the clusterfuck of Charles Lincoln’s will.
The following images, however, leave little room for argument.
My sister and Diego at her house,andhis. She flew to New York City without my fucking knowledge to visit her little fuckboy. There are photos of them in a forest, him wearing a mask, but his identity is unmistakable. One of him carrying her, their stare caught in an intimacy no one has any business looking in on. And then there's the kiss. Alessia’s skirt is torn, and the rose bush at the front of her home is trampled by their feet. Diego’s hand holds her throat roughly, his teeth pulling at her bottom lip in a caress that bleeds unhinged lust—an obsession he’s overcome by. I could argue this has been all against her will, but looking at the wanton need on her face diminishes that reasoning before it begins.
I blow out a long breath, throwing the pictures onto my desk. Leaning back heavily in my chair, I rub a hand over my chin. “Is Narciso aware of the unrest among our men?”
Doubtful, my second-in-command is as loyal as they come. If he were aware of any disharmony, I would know by now.
Amadeo shakes his head. “No, boss. Not to my knowledge. I keep my ear very low to the ground. Their chatter has been very hushed up until this point. But their anger grows. A few of the older, widowed soldiers believe they’re an obvious choice for marriage. She’s…”
“Not pure,” I surmise.
“Exactly, boss.”
I think for only a moment. “I want names of the family members talking shit about my sister. They’re not only disrespectingmyfamily, they’re outwardly undermining their fucking consigliera. There will be consequences.”
“Of course. You’ll have that information by the end of the day.”
I tap my fingers against my desk. “Bring Narciso up to speed on everything, but tell him I’ll be handling this personally.”
Grabbing my phone, I activate the speaker system in the house. “Caterina,” I speak into the mouthpiece, my voice echoing through the cavernous walls of my house. “Come to my office.”
Amadeo’s eyebrows are pushed toward his hairline. “That’s convenient.” He smiles.
I switch off the system. “Not particularly. She won’t do as requested.”
He looks confused.
“My future wife hasn’t spoken a single word to me since I came home. There is no way she’ll voluntarily wander into the lion’s den merely because she’s been summoned.”
He stands to leave. “I’ll be in contact.”
I don’t bother saying goodbye.
“Salvatore,” Amadeo calls before walking through the door. “I took it upon myself to research who sourced these photos, you know, to work out who is having her followed. I hope that’s okay.”
I dip my chin. “Who?”
“Your mother.”
Shock clamps itself around my spine, but I keep my face impassive.
