Beautiful & Dirty (The Family Book 1) by Katrina Jackson

Author:Katrina Jackson [Jackson, Katrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

My office smells metallic, like freshly spilled blood, mixed with the lingering stench of medical-grade disinfectant. How have I never noticed that before? Or maybe I have, it’s just become so familiar that there isn’t any reason to think twice about it. But with the soft whisper of Shae’s voice still ringing in my head, it’s as if all of my senses are reactivating; things I’d become numb to feel new.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“Did you get the money?” I ask casually.

“Got it, boss,” Alfonso says.

“But we got another problem,” Giulio says, always the serious one, at least when there is serious business at hand. I look at him, the sharp set of his lips and hard eyes snapping me out of the gentle cloud of Shae’s presence.

I sigh. I’m suddenly so weary of all this, but that’s the worst weakness of them all. If I’m sick of the job — and my position in the organization — there are lots of people who’d be happy to relieve me of it. Maybe even one of the two men in the room with me. I sit in the same chair I’d occupied when we were interrogating Umberto. I cross my legs and brush an imaginary piece of lint from my slacks.

“What’s the problem?”

“When we went to Umberto’s mistress’s apartment, there was already someone there.”

I raise my eyebrows in interest. “Who?”

“Carmine Facciolo.”

I huff out a breath of laughter, but this laugh isn’t amused, it’s bitter. It’s nothing like the way Shae made me laugh. “Now what was that slimy piece of shit doing at Umberto’s mistress’s house?”

“That’s what we asked him,” Giulio says with a playful shrug, “in a roundabout way. With our fists.”

“And what did he say?”

“Apparently, Umberto’s mistress is about as faithful as he is.”

I’m bored again. “And why do I care who any of these people are fucking?”

“Because Umberto’s mistress is Angelica Torrino,” Giulio says in that flat, dangerous voice that’s deadly and useful.

“How did I not know that Umberto was fucking my wife’s sister and that she’s fucking the man who tried to kill me?” I ask, even as my brain begins to work, putting all the pieces together.

If Carmine had come for me anywhere but in front of the church, he’d have been dead within seconds, but with the priests and the little old ladies — and that surveillance task force I’m not supposed to know about — all watching, my hands had been tied. Yet another smart move on his part. I’ve spent months working out how best to exact my revenge without inviting any more police attention, and apparently, that grace period had been useful in ferreting out Carmine’s connections to people uncomfortably close to me, a blessing and a curse.

“I pay you two a lot of money to make sure I know everything that happens in this town.” My voice is hard now, and the energy in the room has changed. I’m irate, and my men know it,

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