Page 14 of Poisoned Promise
“Sometimes I find myself expecting to see him come home,” Caterina murmurs as she leans back. “Even after all these years. The back door in the kitchen has this creak that I always associate with him sneaking back in after breaking one of my rules. How pathetic is that?”
“It’s not pathetic.” My heart squeezes. “There are a couple of songs I can’t listen to because of him, because back then it was his ringtone. Not like now.” I glance down at my joinedhands resting between my knees. “Now my phone’s on silent and vibrate because if I hear a tone, I’ll think it’s him.”
“How did we make it this far?” Her voice clogs with emotion and she gazes into the fireplace. “How did we crawl this far without him?”
I follow her gaze into the flames and fight the lump forming in my throat. I have no answer. I lost Nico and three days later I lost Dove, the love of my life. In a life surrounded by death, it’s somehow ten times worse when that death turns up on your own doorstep.
“We lost a lot back then,” I murmur. “Nico. The entire Healy clan were slaughtered.” Murdered in their own home and Dove along with them.
The pain of losing Nico pales in comparison to the agony of losing Dove.
I’d never believed in fate or soulmates until I laid eyes on her one night at a party and knew instantly there would never be anyone else in the world better for me than her.
And I lost her.
All these years growing the Donizetti family in the wake of my father’s passing, making myself stronger, richer, and more powerful; it’s all just for show because the emptiness she left with me has never been filled.
“The Healy clan,” Caterina mutters and her tone is much sharper as if the mention of them dried up all the present grief in her heart. “I wish they’d died slower.”
My eyes rip from the fire and lock onto her. “Excuse me?”
Her eyes narrow faintly. “You know we weren’t on the best of terms. I’m not glad they’re dead, don’t get me wrong. As you know, I was in the process of working out a deal with them but the mess they left me with?” She pouts slightly. “I can’t help but wish they’d died slower.”
My face must betray my disbelief at her words because as quickly as she was tearing up about Nico, she’s smiling brightly. “You know how I hate cleaning up other people’s messes.”
“Yes,” I nod slowly. “I’m aware.”
“Speaking of—.” Caterina’s suddenly on her feet and busy at the drinks trolley resting near her desk. In a clatter of crystal and glass, she pours two Vodka’s and returns to my side with a smile as she offers me a glass.
I take it and don’t drink.
“The Russian deal should be closing soon. That’s why I called you here. I’m mostly caught up dealing with this new Triad that’s appeared in Brooklyn. I thought they were trying to get a foothold, but a little birdie told me they’ve been operating in secret for long enough that simply burning down their sweatshops won’t be enough to remove them. That requires my focus. I don’t need those little rats undermining me.”
“So you need me to finish the deal with the Russians?” I raise the glass to my lips and sip as Caterina returns to the couch.
“Yes, exactly. I mostly need you to make a presence in their territory, remind them who they are dealing with and remove any hints that I’m a woman to be screwed with. You can do that for me, darling, can’t you?”
Caterina bats her eyes at me like she’s still in her thirties.
“I’ll make my presence felt.”
“Thank you darling. Aren’t you just a peach?” She gazes at me with a warmer, heavy-lidded look and sighs. “Oh, if I were fifteen years younger.”
“That wouldn’t change anything, remember?”
“Of course.” She sighs deeply. “Nico.”
Suddenly, Caterina’s phone, resting on the glass side table beside her, lights up and vibrates furiously on the glass. She glances at it and smiles widely. “Luckily, I’m off the market anyway.”
She definitely doesn’t act like someone off the market.
“I have a hot young thing that keeps me on my toes, darling, so don’t worry about me being lonely. Just worry that you’re missing out.” Her smile turns coy as she answers and presses the phone to her ear.
This is not a conversation I want to overhear so with a smile, I set my glass aside and stand. “Thank you for meeting me, Caterina. I should go.”
“What?!” She bolts upright on the couch, her face twisting with such rage that the wrinkles on her face deepen into caverns and her eyes bulge out of their sockets. “You better be fucking lying to me because if this is true, I will personally cut off your fucking balls, grill them and feed them to my dogs, do you hear me?!”
A flinch rolls across my shoulders while concern blooms in my stomach. Leaving is no longer an option.
