Love Like Poison: Corsican Crime Lord, Book One by Charmaine Pauls

Author:Charmaine Pauls [Pauls, Charmaine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9782491833206
Published: 2023-09-04T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Angelo

My mother comes downstairs as I exit the dining room after breakfast. She’s wearing a camel-colored Dior coat, a Hermes scarf, and a Louis Vuitton handbag over her arm. Since we made our money, my father has turned her into a walking luxury brand. It’s an overkill. He’s trying to make up for those days none of us can forget but will never mention.

“Morning,” I say, the nagging guilt and questions from yesterday still burrowing like splinters under my skin.

She pulls on a pair of gloves and stops at the bottom of the staircase with a soft smile on her face. Her words are equally soft, as if she’s scared to speak up, scared she’ll be heard. “Good morning.”

I stop in front of her. “Where are you going?” It’s early. My father is still sleeping.

“To the store. We’re out of rice. I’ll get some oranges while I’m there. I know how much you like those ones from Morocco. They’re sweeter than the local varieties. Has Adeline left?”

“Five minutes ago.”

She frowns. “I was going to say goodbye. I lost track of time while getting ready. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“I’ll drive you,” I say on impulse.

She looks taken aback. “That’s very kind of you, but I know how busy you are.”

She says it as if I never have time for her, because I don’t. I don’t give her the attention she deserves. I’m taking her too much for granted. We all are.

“I don’t have anything planned for the morning.” I take my key from my pocket. “The sun is out. A drive will be nice.”

She blinks.

She doesn’t believe me. She knows better than anyone the paper stack on the desk in the study is higher than the Tower of Pisa. There’s much to be dealt with, too much, and the pile is only getting bigger while there’s never enough time.

“All right,” she says, her smile uncertain, but she goes ahead and picks up the basket next to the door.

As I escort her outside, she shoots me a sidelong glance. She’s questioning my motives for driving her. I can’t blame her, seeing how seldom I go anywhere with her. I rarely make time for anything or anyone outside of business.

The man who takes care of the cars is new. He’s polishing my father’s Mercedes in the driveway.

I throw him the key. “Get my car. Is the tank full?”

“Yes, sir,” he says, catching the key and running to take the basket.

When he brings the car around, I seat my mother and take the road over the mountain to the village in the valley.

My mother looks at me as I park in a lot on the outskirts of the town. “We’re not going to Bastia?”

“There’s a good market here. It’s quieter. Less pollution.”

She says nothing as I get out of the car. I go around and get her door. She pushes oversized sunglasses over her face while I get the basket from the back.

The market is set up on the square under the canopy of Corsican pine trees.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.