Fallen Angel, Part 1: Fallen Angel Series - A Mafia Romance by Tracie Podger

Author:Tracie Podger [Podger, Tracie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-01-13T18:30:00+00:00

When we arrived home I realised I was ravenous and thankful that dinner was ready. I wondered if Evelyn had some amazing ability to know exactly what time we would arrive. The meal had not been kept warm but steaming hot as she placed two dishes on the breakfast bar.

“How do you know exactly what time we will be back?” I asked her.

“Security calls, they let me know when you’ve left. I want you to have a properly cooked meal, not something reheated,” she said as way of an explanation.

I thought no more of it and tucked into a delicious dish of lamb chops, rosemary and garlic potatoes, and green beans.

I fell into bed exhausted a little later, leaving Robert upstairs in his office. He had some things to attend to he’d said as he kissed me goodnight. I missed falling asleep in his arms but as much as I tried, I could not keep my eyes open. However, I didn’t sleep long, maybe a couple of hours. It was past midnight when I’d noticed Robert had still not come to bed. I pulled on a robe and went to find him. The light shone under the closed door of his office and I gently knocked before slowly opening it. He’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head rested on his arms, and as I walked towards him I gently touched his shoulder. He startled and his arm knocked something to the floor.

I bent down to pick it up for him, “Don’t, Brooke. Leave it,” he said.

I’d already stopped mid crouch, my hand just touched the edge of a photograph. It was a picture of the two of us leaving the hotel that night after his business dinner. He was looking down at me smiling and I gasped as I saw my face scrubbed out with a black pen, so hard that the paper was torn. I picked it up and stared at it.

“Please, give me the photo,” he said, his voice was dangerously low.

I couldn’t move. I just stood staring at the picture in my hand.

“Brooke, give it to me,” he said again, and I finally looked up.

He’d reached out and took the picture from my hand, placing it in a file, which he then locked in a drawer.

“What does that mean?” I asked. There was a tremble in my voice.

“Nothing Brooke, forget about it,” he answered.

“Forget about it, are you crazy? Why is my face scrubbed out? Who took that picture?” I heard my voice rising.

He let out a breath, “I don’t know who took the picture, okay. Travis and I are on it. I don’t want you to worry about it, probably some jealous ex, that’s all. Now, come on, let’s go to bed.”

As we left the room, however, he turned and locked the door pocketing the keys. Maybe the door was always locked but it seemed a significant thing to me, he didn’t want me to go in there. He held my hand as he led me to the bedroom, and if he thought I had missed the worried look in his eyes, he was mistaken.

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