Page 18 of Angel

“What time was that?”

“Midnight. I think.”

“Think hard.”

My mind scrambles. “Yes, midnight. Why all the questions?”

His shallow intake of breath prepares me for the worst.

“He was found murdered in a sleazy hotel room on the wrong side of town. His throat had been cut.”

Shock hits me hard, and I have no words as my mind struggles to keep up.

“He’s dead?”

The word comes out as a sob as the news sinks in.

“It’s a fucking mess, Sophie. I’m guessing the cops are on their way, so I suggest you grab a black coffee and wait for me. Call your lawyer too.”

“But I don’t know anything.”

“Then you will tell them what you know, even if it’s nothing. This is a PR fucking nightmare.”

He cuts the call, leaving me speechless, and yet all I can think about is Giovanni. I sent him away to his death. I should have let him stay. He’s dead because I wasn’t interested. Who the hell did this to him?

I flick on the news and note the anchor’s face is solemn as pictures of Giovanni and me are playing behind her.

Giovanni Corloni was found murdered after police believe he dropped Sophie Clere off at her beach house in Malibu yesterday evening. We have no further details, but will bring you news as it breaks.

A knock on my door tells me Rosita is outside with my usual morning coffee.

“Ma’am.”

Her worried tone tells me she knows, and I call out, “Come in.”

I quickly stuff Angel’s t-shirt under the covers as she enters, her eyes wide as she approaches the bed, carrying the coffee and the iPad.

“Ma’am, the cops are waiting downstairs. They want to speak to you about…” Her voice falters, and I nod.

“I heard, Rosita. This is terrible news.”

“Oh, ma’am.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “He was such a lovely man. Who could have done this?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

The coffee sits where she left it as I scramble out of bed, her eyes widening further as she registers that I’m naked.

“Ma’am, your neck.”

“What about it?”

My fingers fly to my throat, and she shifts nervously.

“It’s well, um, red.”

“I probably lay on it awkwardly. Give me a minute and I’ll dress and head downstairs to meet the cops. Frankie is due here and call my lawyer. I’m not sure why, but Frankie told me it was for the best.”