Mob Lawyer 8: A Legal Thriller by Daren Dave

Author:Daren, Dave
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The Febbo property sprawled out in front of me, lined by perfectly-shaped bushes and shaded by centuries-old trees. The driveway eventually led to a small vineyard that was covered in sheets at the moment and a magnificent view of the house. Even in the middle of winter, each window was perfectly clean as if someone had just wiped them down before I drove up, and the terracotta shingles had all been cleaned of snow like they were heated. The stairs that led up to the door were shoveled and salted, and the balconies that stuck out of the second floor were decorated with garlands.

There were more guards than usual on the grounds, and a couple of them strolled out from between two hedges shaped to look like lions right as I pulled around the circular driveway. They spared a momentary glance in my direction, but my Mercedes AMG was well known enough that they just went back to their conversation while Anthony’s uncle rushed down the stairs to greet me the way that he always did.

“Hunter,” the older man said and pulled me into a hug the second that I was out of my car.

Michael wasn’t officially part of the Febbo family business since he’d married in, but he’d helped to keep his sister safe during the shootout that gave her a whole new kitchen, and Sal trusted the toupee-wearing man to watch the house like a guard dog. His long pea coat was a deep reddish-plum like someone had spilled red wine all over him, and the curly mess on the top of his head was the best toupee that I’d ever seen on him, though it was still obviously a rug.

“Michael,” I said and returned the quick hug. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” he said and then led the way up the wide staircase into the house.

It had been several weeks since I’d actually been to the Febbo estate, and it smelled like Gulia had pulled out all the stops to welcome me back. The matriarch swept into the foyer from the kitchen like a warm summer breeze the second that I walked inside, and her auburn hair bounced in perfectly glossy ringlets as if she’d just gotten a perm. I nodded in respect to my client’s mother as she bustled toward me in a long black turtleneck dress and a white apron, both of which were spotless despite the smell of homemade marinara in the air.

“Hunter,” she grinned, and for the first time I noticed the thinnest crow’s feet around her eyes. “It’s so good to have you here. Not that you had an option. You’ve dodged my invitations for so long that I thought you might not like the taste of my cooking anymore. Of course, you do have Tommaso now, and he’s even better than Annie in the kitchen.”

“I am spoiled,” I laughed and then glanced at Anthony as he strolled into the foyer from the study. “But nothing could ever compare to your cooking, Mrs.

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