Chapter 3

THREE

Angelo

It takes a week to do a proper cleanup in the warehouses, interrogating every man and going through every square inch for cameras or bugs. The checks are done routinely, but after catching a spy on the premises, I prefer to be extra cautious.

By now, Marziale would've gotten my message. He knows I'm coming for him. If he's clever, he'll run. He'll get out of Corsica while he can. Not that it'll help. I'll always find him, and when I do, I'll crush him.

I sleep on the sofa in the warehouse office and use the onsite shower, too weary at night to bother with going to a hotel. During those hours that I lie awake in the dark, my thoughts return to the same place and person—the new house and the woman who lives there.

My woman.

How did she react when she discovered what I'd done? Is she cursing me as she's lying in her bed? How much more does she despise me? How much time will it take before she gets over it? Definitely more than the week I've been gone. Perhaps an eternity. She'll hate me even more when she finds out I left Heidi with a very clear instruction not to go to the new house while I'm gone. I don't want Sabella to make Heidi do something that will surely get her fired, something like going to the pharmacy and buying her an emergency contraceptive. Heidi has been with me for too long. I don't want to be forced to kick her out. Sabella sent me to the pharmacy when I took her virginity, and that was one time too many. I told her that then, and I never go back on my word. When she falls pregnant, I won't allow her to get rid of my baby. I'll lock her in a cage for the whole nine months if I have to.

My woman.

Maybe if I tell myself that enough times I'll believe it. In my heart, I know she's mine. The problem is that she doesn't see it the same way. That's why she made a deal with the cops. We're in an impossible situation with her looking for evidence she won't find and me biding my time to take out Lieutenant Lavigne. And now this war with Marziale and the business with the kids are delaying my plans.

Turning those thoughts around in my head serves no purpose other than adding to my frustration, but I can't shut down my mind. So I lie awake, and I think, wondering what my wife is doing and if Sophie is the welcome distraction I hope she'll be.

I only return home when I'm certain there are no rats in my staff and that the premises are clean.

Heidi greets me at the door.

"How did it go?" I ask. "I hope the boys didn't give you too much trouble."

"Oh, they gave me enough." She closes the door and takes my coat. "Good luck with taming them. It's not going to be an easy job."

I look around the quiet house. "Where are they?"

"A guard is teaching them to do animal tracking near the forest to keep them busy."

"I'll finalize the enrollment this week." I remove my jacket and hand it to her for dry-cleaning. "As soon as they've had the required vaccinations, they'll be in school and out of your hair."

I check my watch. It's mid-morning, but I can do with a shower. After a week of showering in a cramped cubicle with a plastic curtain under a drizzle of lukewarm water, I look forward to soaking my tense muscles under the massaging spray of the powerful nozzle in the luxury of my own spacious bathroom.

I'm turning for the stairs, already unbuttoning my shirt, when Heidi says, "There's someone here to see you. She's waiting in the lounge."

I stop. "Who?"

She shrugs. "A woman. Says she's family of Mrs. Russo."

"Family of my wife?" I ask, unease tightening my gut.

"Yes."

My senses go on high alert. "What does she want?"

"She won't say." The downward pull of Heidi's mouth says she disapproves of this person. "She's been coming every morning since you left. I told her you're not home and that I didn't know when you'd return, but she always insists on waiting. Says it's important. She waits for a couple of hours in the lounge and then leaves only to come back the next day."

"Why didn't you call me?"

Heidi says with conviction, "Whatever her business is with you, it's not that important."

My housekeeper really doesn't like this woman. "Did she ask for Sabella?"

"No."

"Are you having her watched?"

"Of course." Heidi juts her chin toward the lounge. "I make sure a guard searches her and stays with her until she goes. The only reason I let her in is because she says she's family of Mrs. Russo. I can't say if that's true. She doesn't carry a passport or an identity document on her. Not even a driver's license."

I nod. "Tell her I'll see her."

I go upstairs and take my time in the shower. If my visitor didn't make an appointment, she can wait. After dressing in a clean shirt and tailored slacks, I walk to the lounge.

A young woman with a square face and strong features sits on the sofa, typing on her phone. She wears a navy pants suit with a white silk blouse that ties with an old-fashioned bow in the front. Red heels matching a red handbag complete the outfit. Her blond, shoulder-length hair is cut straight with long bangs reaching her eyebrows. The blue eyeshadow and eyeliner accentuating her eyes are dark, but instead of making her look like a clown, the makeup gives her a bold and flashy appearance. She somehow manages to pull off the look that would've been kitsch on anyone else. I instantly recognize her from the media photos.

Daisy Remington.

Sabella's half-sister.

She looks up when I enter. A slow smile curves her red lips. "It's about time."

I nod at the guard who stands in the corner with his hands folded in front of him. At the quiet instruction, he gives us privacy.

"What do you want?" I ask, stopping in front of her on the opposite side of the coffee table.

Her mouth twists with amusement. "I guess that means you know who I am."

"Who doesn't?"

She utters a laugh at my unspoken referral to the country-wide scandal her mother dropped on every news channel when she came clean about her affair with Sabella's father. Then she nods as if she's got me all figured out.

Not by a long shot, honey. My manner is curt. "Now that the introductions are over, I suggest you get to the point."

She drops her phone in her handbag and crosses her arms and legs. "Where's my sister?"

I mock her with a smile, already knowing the answer before I ask, "Is that why you're here?"

"No." She swings her leg. "I'm just wondering why you're not living together."

My smile turns cold. "Who says we're not?"

"I've been here every day for most of the week. If Sabella was living here, I would've known."

"Maybe I have more than one house."

"Obviously." She rolls her eyes. "I'm not stupid." Scrutinizing me, she continues in a smug tone. "But this is your main house. I'm just wondering what it says about your relationship if you moved her into one of the secondary houses you keep for your mistresses."

"Like your father moved your mother into the secondary house in Hout Bay?"

Her jaw locks, giving her features an unattractive, hard angle. Glaring at me, she says, "I'm here about business."

I widen my stance. "Business?"

"My father had four children—three who got his surname…and me."

"Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?"

She drags in a breath and exhales with flaring nostrils. "I had as big a claim on the business as his other children. A quarter of it should've been mine."

I raise a brow and wait.

"Ryan told me you own the business now. Everything. Did my father sign it over because Sabella was his favorite? Is that why the rest of us got nothing, not a penny or a lousy share?"

"If I remember correctly, he left you a few million." My voice is flat. "But you want more money."

She stands. "I want my cut of the business."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

Her lips stretch into an ugly grin. "Not even close."

"Are you saying you want to work for me?"

She balls her hands into fists. "Not for you. With you."

The idea is so ridiculous I can't help but laugh. "With me?"

"Yes," she bites out. "You'll find I'm my father's daughter, Mr. Russo. I inherited much of his skills and aptitude for business."

My answer is wry. "No thanks."

"I started my own import and export company." The expression in her gray eyes is taunting. "Like Sabella suggested."

I heard enough. I don't have time to waste on this shit.

She grabs my arm when I turn to leave. "You made a deal with Powell. I was working on closing that deal. It was only a matter of time."

Taking her hand, I remove it from my arm. "Powell will never do business with you. He might have been one of your father's best friends, but he condemns Edwards's behavior when it comes to his so-called second family."

Her body goes rigid. "That deal was mine. I would've had him in my pocket if you hadn't interfered."

I chuckle. "I don't think so."

"I want exclusivity on those sea routes. You owe it to me." She stands taller. "If you don't want to let me in on the deal, give me my share of the business you stole."

I get into her personal space. "Listen carefully, little girl, because I'm not going to repeat myself. I owe you nothing. Now get the fuck out of my house."

Disbelief flashes across her pale face. It takes her a second to school her features. "It's a pity you're so quick to dismiss me. I'm sure your competitors will be very interested in collaborating with me."

"I don't have competitors, Ms. Remington. I only have enemies."

"Well, then you don't want to make one of me."

I wrap my fingers around her bicep, squeezing hard enough to make her flinch. "You are indeed your father's daughter." I shove her toward the door. "You're a snake just like he was."

She stumbles and rights herself. Grabbing her handbag from the sofa, she says through thin lips, "You're going to regret this." On her way to the door, she throws from over her shoulder, "I will have the last laugh, Mr. Russo. You can count on that. Oh. And do tell my sister I say hi."

She leaves with her nose turned up, her heels clacking over the floor. I follow in her footsteps, just in time to see her yank a coat from the stand in the entrance when I exit the lounge. She nearly pulls the front door off its hinges before barging onto the porch and slamming the door hard enough to rattle the frame.

The guard who watched her stands at attention in the hallway. I wave him over as I walk to a window from where I have a view of her. She takes her phone from her bag and makes a call.

"Daisy Remington. Find out where she's staying," I instruct the guard who swiftly leaves to make the inquiry.

Daisy fishes a packet of cigarettes from her handbag, lights one, and paces the porch while she smokes.

What is she up to? I didn't take her for a gold digger. Clearly, I underestimated her ambition.

The guard returns.

"What did you find out?" I ask.

He gives me the name of a prestigious hotel in Bastia. "She's renting rooms with her mother. Their checkout date is indefinite. She paid for a couple of months in advance."

"Thanks. That'll be all."

The guard takes his leave while I continue to watch Daisy.

A taxi pulls up. Heidi must've let the driver through the gates. Daisy throws the half-smoked cigarette on the ground and gets into the back. She says something to the driver. He shoots a nervous look at the house before taking off.

After donning a jacket, I drive to Bastia and park in front of the luxury hotel. When I ask at the front desk, the concierge tells me Ms. Remington is having lunch on the closed terrace. I tip him and make my way to the restaurant.

Laura Remington sits alone at a table in a sunny spot overlooking the sea. A wide-brim straw hat and oversized sunglasses obscure her face. She wears a fitted black shift dress with nude stockings and black patent leather heels. A huge diamond sparkles on the ring finger of her right hand. Her only other adornment is a Rolex wristwatch.

She brings a cup to her lips as she stares at the smooth surface of the water.

With a single glance, I take stock of the room. An elderly couple eats quietly in the corner. A boisterous group of men dressed in cheap suits sit around a long table in the center. No bodyguards.

I go over.

When I pull out the chair opposite her and take a seat, her hand in which she's holding the cup freezes in mid-air.

"Ms. Remington," I say. "I'm Angelo Russo. We haven't been introduced yet."

"Mr. Russo," she exclaims in a polished voice, leaving her cup in the saucer. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Your daughter is meddling in affairs she shouldn't."

She leans back and studies me. "My daughter is her own woman, Mr. Russo. She's an adult who does what she pleases."

"She's barely an adult. For all practical purposes, she's still a child."

She flashes me a graceful smile. "She's the same age as your wife." She gives the statement a second to sink in before continuing. "Congratulations on your wedding, by the way. Ryan told Daisy the happy news when she called on him for business."

"You mean when she went there to demand her cut of the company."

"Which now belongs to you."

"Exactly. And for the record, my wife is more mature than many people twice her age."

She folds her hands on the table. "Good for you. I'm happy to hear that."

"What are you doing here, Ms. Remington?"

"Why, I'm here on holiday." She faces me squarely. "Why are you here, Mr. Russo?"

I pin her with a stare. "Your daughter is playing with fire. She's going to get herself burned."

"Thanks for your concern." Picking up her cup, she says sweetly, "I'll give her your message."

I stand and adjust my jacket. I didn't have to do Laura Remington the courtesy of delivering a warning. The only reason I'm here is because Daisy is blood of Sabella's blood, and blood ties are sacred.

"This isn't Cape Town," I say. "I own this island. Don't overstay your welcome."

She tilts her head. "I'll try to remember that."

She'll do both her and her daughter a favor if she does.

I don't look back as I walk away.

I did my duty.

The rest is up to them.