AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shouldn’t be meddling in Mafia business but I also can’t let it go. My brain despises anomalies, things that don’t add up, things that seem odd or strange. So to quiet it down, it’s best if I figure this thing out.
It’s got nothing to do with my innate need to prove myself. Nothing. Not like Dante ever made me feel less than…who am I kidding? I still feel annoyed when I think of how he treated me in those first weeks. Still feel rage about not getting that receptionist job. Even if the current job he gave me pays a lot more for doing pretty much the same thing. Except, technically I’m not doing any work holed up in his mansion all by myself.
So now, I’m set on showing him I not only can look after myself but also that I’m an asset. One he’d be stupid to let go of. Dante Santoro might have Blackwood in the palm of his hand. He might be the head of the Mafia. But he’s never gone head to head with someone like me before. And by the time I’m done, he’ll be begging me to stay. Only thing is, with the lines blurring more and more each day, I’m no longer certain I should…
With a sigh, I skim through the numbers, my fingers playing with the chain around my neck. A glaring reminder.
I’m stalling.
Stalling from what I shouldreallybe doing. The one sole reason I came to this town. The only reason I should want to stay.
The pocket watch I threaded the chain through and placed around my neck is burning against the skin of my chest, hinting at its existence. Reminding me my family could be somewhere in Blackwood. I pull it out and look at it, turning it in my hand, tracing the pattern and the engraving on the casing before flipping it open to look at the unmoving hands taunting me about the time that stood still the day I was abandoned. Two thirty-eight. I don’t know how many times I thought about winding it up, or moving the hands, but each time I stopped myself. I needed the reminder that once there was a time someone cared for me, no matter how abruptly it stopped.
“You better give that back to him before he realises it’s missing.”
25
ALESSA
My eyes snap up, meeting Massimo’s face. His eyes, hidden behind a pair of glasses, are focused onmypocket watch.
“Who?” I ask, my gaze trained on him, as my hands begin to shake.
“Elena will be heartbroken if she thinks he’s lost it again.”
“Who did she give it to?” My voice comes out as a whisper, as my heartbeat picks up in my chest, an inkling of hope sprouting in the darkest part of my soul. I push it back, too fearful of the potential wreckage it could cause if it gets crushed again.
“Dante of course. She gives everything to that boy.” My heart stops. “Where is she? It’s not like the two of you to be separated. You’re usually joined at the hip.”
I swallow. “She went to grab something to drink.” My voice sounds odd, like I’m under water, as my brain is trying to process Massimo’s words. He must be mistaken. This pocket watch can’t be Dante’s, there’s just no way.
Massimo laughs. “Of course, it’s Margarita Monday. You love your Margarita Mondays…” He finally tears his gaze away from me, his eyes losing focus as he takes in the library.
Shit, shit, shit. When Angelo mentioned Massimo was unwell, I didn’t ask what sort of unwell, but from the way his father is acting I have a feeling it’s dementia. The only person giving me any information is technically senile. Just my fucking luck.
I laugh awkwardly. “You know us. Elena and I. We love Margaritas.” God, where am I even going with this?
“You almost missed your high school prom, because of them. Must have heard the story a thousand times.”
“We went to high school together?” The question slips out, but now that’s it out, I have a million more and I can’t stop them.
His eyes snap back to me.
“The pocket watch. Elena gave it to Dante?” I change the topic.
He nods. I try not to squirm under his gaze. “Just another thing for the boy to lose.”
“Is Elena your sister? Daughter?”
His face tilts, his eyes sharp as he assesses me. “Who are you?” His voice turns ice cold, just like Dante’s does when he’s pissed off.
“Me?” My voice quivers as he squares his shoulders, towering over me, menacing.
“Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house? Elena!” he booms, patting his dressing gown, probably for a gun. Any signs of the feeble old man from yesterday gone.
“I—I—”
“Massimo! Stop!” A nurse rushes into the library, grabbing Massimo by his arm, trying to move him away.
