I prepared dinner. Burgers for the boys and made up a salad to go with steak for when Robert returned. If he kept up with his promise, he’d need the protein. I called the boys to the breakfast bar. There was a delay and a second call before they emerged from the TV room.
“Can we have another half hour?” Harley said.
“Depends if you eat your dinner. Although it will be an early night for both of you, we’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
“Yes! Did you pack my swimming shorts?” Gerry said.
“Of course. I packed everything you’re likely to need.”
“Do we have to go to the actual, you know…” Harley asked.
“Why don’t you talk to your dad about that.”
The boys had met Sofia many times over the years but taking them to a funeral wasn’t top of my list of things for them to do in Italy. However, Robert and I needed to go, and I wasn’t leaving Gerry at the villa with anyone. If Harley didn’t want to attend, that was something Travis would have to deal with.
Burgers eaten, they headed back to the TV room and I purposely checked my watch in front of them.
“Half an hour only, okay?”
****
Gerry was in bed by the time Robert arrived home, and Evelyn had taken Harley back to the apartment. The front door opened and Robert called up the stairs that he was taking a quick shower. I opened a red wine, one of his favourite Merlot’s, and left it to breathe. I fired up the griddle as I heard him climb the stairs.
“Hey, baby,” he said as he came around the breakfast bar and wrapped me in his arms.
“I need to talk to you, after dinner though,” I said.
“Don’t think I like the sound of that.”
“Let me get this steak going for you. Mine’s nearly done.”
Robert liked his meat rare, raw even. I placed his steak on his plate, the blood oozed. He ran his thumb through the blood and raised it to his lips, sucking the juice slowly. My stomach flipped.
“Eat and stop teasing,” I said. He laughed.
As normal, he had finished his meal long before me. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
I laid my knife and fork down and turned towards him.
“Evelyn’s sad. I think the thought of going to the village is bringing up memories for her. Why did Rocco keep his distance?”
He sighed and placed his glass back on the counter.
“He had no choice. Years ago he helped with the assassination of a senator. That senator was in the pay of the Mafia in Rome. I don’t know the full details but they had interests in New York. When Rocco returned to Italy, he was caught, taken to Rome and given a choice—work for the family or Evelyn would disappear.”
“Holy fuck!”
“Exactly. No one knew he was alive for many years. Well, I say no one, Franco and Joe knew. This is the reason she can never know. Joe knew, and he kept it a secret from her.”
“I wonder why, it’s awful that he did.”
“According to Franco, Joe also knew that Evelyn’s life was at risk, in the beginning. I guess that’s why he took that secret to his grave.”
“Why did he come back? I mean, I know Franco asked him to help but is there more to it than that? Was it because of your connection to Evelyn?”
“Partly, and also Matteo. Rocco had a list of people he wanted dead. Matteo was on it. I guess coming here served two purposes for him. He wanted to meet me. He believes I was the one to help Evelyn despite that fact it was the other way round initially. He knows I’ve cared for and protected her, which is why he made a pledge to do the same for you.”
“But he didn’t want to see Evelyn?”
“How could he? She’s believed him to be dead for thirty years. How do you come back from that?”
“I don’t know, but it’s killing me knowing she loved him so much and he’s still alive. She would be devastated if she found out we knew.”
“You were never going to know, never going to see him. Gerry was supposed to be brought to you at the car but Carlo wanted to play games. Matteo wanted you to see me on my knees with a gun to my head.”
I shivered at the memory. “Who was he?”
“Matteo? A foolish man. He came from Sicily, his family were overthrown by Rocco’s. Again, I don’t know all the details but I’m meeting Rocco in a couple of days.”
“Why?”
“He has business to discuss.”
“Good business or bad business?”
“All business, if it’s profitable, is good business.”
“You’re going full circle, aren’t you?”
“I killed six men. Two of those were Made Men. Remember those words? I didn’t think twice about blowing their brains all over Matteo and Lucia. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the look on her face, Brooke, the horror at what she was witnessing, but there’s a consequence to that. You have the protection of Rocco, I don’t. It’ll strength our family and we’ll have ties with Rocco’s.”
I sat in silence. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
“Are you eating that?”
I looked at the cold meat on my plate and the congealed blood around it.
“No. Funny enough, I’ve lost my appetite.”
He snatched the piece of steak from my plate and popped it in his mouth.
“You’ve seen all of me, Brooke, every ugly piece of my soul. This is who I am.”
“You don’t have an ugly soul, Robert. You never did have. And if you think I’m that clueless that I don’t know who you are, you don’t know me as well as you think. I know you, I know the real you, not the one you think you are.” I took his hand in mine. “To think I thought I could’ve walked away from you. It would be like ripping my heart from my chest.”
He stood and crooked his finger, beckoning me to stand as well. As I did, he pushed the plates to one side. He placed his arms on either side of me, pinning me to the counter.
“Do you think I would really have let you walk away?”
I looked into his dark eyes and shook my head. No, he wouldn’t have.
“You’d miss this.” He lowered his head to my neck and licked from my jaw to my ear.
“You’d miss this,” he said as he took my earlobe between his teeth and gently nipped.
I moaned in response as his body pushed hard against mine.
“You’d miss this,” he said as he grabbed the front of my shirt and ripped it open.
He placed his hand over one breast, kneading roughly. I fumbled with his jeans, desperate to open the buttons. He ran his hands down my thighs then dragged my skirt up to my waist.
“You’d miss this,” he whispered as his mouth crashed on mine, and his teeth raked across my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth.
His kiss was bruising as he ripped my panties from my body. I managed, between pants, to free his cock and closed my hand around it. I needed him inside me. I raised my leg and felt him place his hands on my ass. He lifted me and I guided him in. My back was wedged against the counter and I wrapped my legs around his hips.
“I’d miss this. Not you fucking me, but the look on your face as you do,” I whispered.
He stilled. I placed a hand on his cheek as a tear leaked from one of his eyes.
“I love you,” he said.
Then he fucked me as he’d promised—hard.
Chapter Twenty
Robert woke me by gently shaking my arm. I groaned. Early mornings disagreed with me. I opened one eye. Robert was dressed and smiling at me.
“Time to get up,” he said.
“I can’t move. I have a sore…you know,” I said.
He laughed. “Want me to kiss it better?”
“As much as I’d love you to, it’s too tender even for that.” I rolled to the edge of the bed and stood.
As I walked to the bathroom and passed the full-length mirror, I took a look at myself.
“I don’t think I’ll be sunbathing anytime soon.” I had hand sized bruises on my ass where Robert
had gripped.
“If you don’t get that beautiful ass moving, I’ll give it a slap.”
“And still you tease,” I replied with a wink.
I grabbed a hairband from the shelf above the sink and tied my hair up before stepping into the shower.
“Want to get Gerry up?” I called out.
“Already done. We’ll be upstairs.”
I was showered in record time and sat with a towel around me while I styled my hair and applied my make-up. I’d already laid out some comfortable clothes for the long flight and my hand luggage bag was packed with my e-reader and laptop. All I had to do was add make-up and a hairbrush.
As I climbed the stairs, I heard Gerry already excitedly chatting. He wanted to know if he could take the Xbox, but Robert had told him no. Although the boys had only had it for a week, they were already addicted and spending more time on it than I would have liked.
“Breakfast?” Robert said.
By breakfast, he meant a Danish pastry and a cup of tea. Cooking wasn’t his thing. As I sat on a stool, I smiled. A solitary button sat on the counter top in front of me. I picked it up and placed it to one side. My shirt was already in the bin, not repairable. I looked up to see him smirking back at me.
“What time do we leave?” Gerry asked.
“Half hour or so, so eat up,” Robert replied after checking his watch.
Gerry had only flown once before and that trip had ended in disaster. He was excited, I was anxious. I was interrupted from the thought by the front door opening and the sound of footsteps running up. I didn’t need to look to see Harley had arrived. Travis followed slowly behind.
“Whose idea was it to fly this early?” he grumbled.
“You can sleep on the plane,” Robert replied.
I drank down my tea and stacked the plates and cups in the dishwasher. Leaving it running, we filed downstairs and collected our bags. Dan and Gary were waiting with two cars. Evelyn was making her way across the drive to join us. She seemed to walk a little slower than usual.
“Hey, let me get that for you,” Travis said as he took her hand luggage bag.
She looked tired, and I wondered if she’d had a restless night. She climbed in to the car with Harley, Travis riding up front, while Robert, Gerry and I took the second one. I wondered if Katrina was to meet us at the airport.
It was a short drive to the private airport where we were whisked through to our waiting jets. There would be a half hour delay between each take-off. Robert, Gerry, Gary and I boarded the first and waited for Sam and Scott to arrive. It appeared Sam had been delayed in the terminal due to the amount of luggage he’d brought with him. I hadn’t told Robert for fear of us starting our journey with him annoyed.
As we settled into luxurious tan leather seats, a steward offered us champagne. Despite the time, I took a glass, and I took the one from Gerry’s hand after he’d reached over to the tray. Robert declined, opting for coffee. Gerry was jigging about in his seat as excited as I was. Robert used a private jet whenever he had to fly. He hated commercial airlines, their timetables and the thought he’d be confined with strangers for any length of time. For Gerry and me it was a rare and wonderful experience.
The Captain came to chat. He explained the flight path, telling Gerry what mountains to look out for and which countries we’d be passing over. It was going to be a long flight, nearly nine hours, but surrounded by the luxury of the jet meant it was going to be a comfortable journey.
A commotion outside alerted us to the fact Sam had arrived. He bumped his cabin case up the metal steps. Robert rolled his eyes.
“Wow, will you look at this,” he said as he entered the cabin.
There were two seats arranged to one side, a single on the other, with the same facing. Sam opted for the single across the aisle from me.
“I have to face the way I’m going,” he said as he waved at the seat opposite for Scott.
Both were offered champagne; Sam took two glasses, Scott declined. Sam raised one glass to me. “To Italy,” he said.
An announcement came over the tannoy that last minute checks were underway and then we would be taxying down the runway. The steward came to remove our glasses and check we were buckled up. It was with reluctance that Sam handed over the full glass of champagne.
“Maybe we should join the mile high club,” Sam said to Scott.
I heard Robert sigh, so I covered his hand with mine and gave it a small squeeze. He’d need all the help he could get to suffer nine hours in close confinement with Sam. I chuckled.
“What’s the mile high club?” Gerry asked.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Robert replied and then glared at Sam.
We were soon in the air and on our way. Once the plane had reached altitude, more drinks were offered. Robert had opened his laptop and was busy catching up on work, Gerry laid his e-reader and some puzzle books I’d bought him on the table and I rested my head back and closed my eyes.
It was a smooth journey. We were offered snacks, a wonderful three-course lunch, afternoon tea—which I suspect was laid on because I was British—and then dinner. Sam managed to keep up his endless chatter for most of the journey, only falling asleep for the last hour. Scott had kept his sunglasses on, and I suspected that was so Sam didn’t see that he hadn’t been awake for most of it.
The tables were cleared, the books, laptops and e-readers all packed away as we readied for descent into Rome.
“Are we here?” Sam said, having been woken by the jolt of the plane landing.
“We are. Do you think you can make it through the terminal a little quicker this time?” Robert said.
“Well, if the Romans are as inefficient as the Americans, probably not,” came Sam’s reply.
Travelling by private jet was not the same as a commercial airline. The ‘terminal’ was a plush building alongside the runway where our passports were checked. Our luggage was taken directly to the waiting cars, which made a mockery of the usual security checks. A fleet of black Mercedes cars were waiting with suited men in sunglasses. Each car had a driver.
“Mr. Stone, my name’s Vinny,” said one as he opened the rear door for us. Gary sat upfront.
“Vinny? How very Godfather-ish,” Sam whispered.
“Sshh, your car’s that one,” I said.
We were driven through the gates and onto the motorway. It was a three-hour drive to the village, and with the time difference, it was late afternoon. The journey took us through some amazing countryside and I was thankful for the air conditioning. The heat was overwhelming even that late in the day.
We arrived in a village that could have been taken straight from an historical novel. We weaved through narrow streets flanked by stone buildings. Old women sat on even older wooden chairs outside their front doors. Each stared at the car as we slowly passed. We followed what appeared to be the main road through the village until we started the drive up the side of a hill. To one side it was fields of either olive trees or scorched grass from the sun. It was a bumpy ride until eventually we pulled into a courtyard. The car stopped and I waited for the door to be opened.
I stepped out into the cobbled courtyard. The villa—more a country estate than what I’d call a villa—was stunning.
“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Stone. Let me introduce myself, my name is Elvira,” I heard.
Walking towards us was an elderly but very spritely lady. She extended her hand.
“I’ll be looking after you during your stay. If there is anything you require, please just ask. Vinny, bags, please. If you’d like to follow me, I have some refreshments for you.”
Although she had an Italian accent, her English was perfect. She spoke as we walked. Vinny and Gary unloaded the cars.
“Your accommodation is this wing, your friends will be over there and your security in the cottage next to mine,” she pointed as she spoke.
“This house is amazing,” I said as I looked around.
“Thank you. It belonge
d to my mother, the Contessa Agosti. It was sold many years ago; I don’t think she could afford the upkeep. It’s now owned by our mutual friend and is reserved for guests.”
The building was huge and arranged in three sections framing a courtyard with a large fountain.
“So it’s now three properties?” I asked.
“Yes, although it interconnects. I remember as a child most of it being shut off and in disrepair.”
She took a large key and opened a wooden front door. We stepped into a cool marble floored hallway; there was a staircase to one side that led to a galleried landing. The walls were lined with black and white photographs and I was immediately taken back to the apartment at Robert’s office. Similar photographs had adorned the walls. Although the building was extremely old, the interior was modern.
We were shown through to an enormous living room. The back wall was one huge sliding glass door and was open, allowing the slight breeze to flow through the room.
“You’ll find each room is air conditioned and centrally controlled. The kitchen is through that door and you also have a restroom, office with WiFi and we have our own satellite dish for TV—you can never trust the Italian communications system.”
Dark wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, the walls were white painted stone and the floors were marble throughout. It was a wonderful mix of old and new.
We walked to the living room doors and straight onto a stone terrace. We crossed the terrace with its tables, chairs and sunbeds, and stood beside an infinity pool. The view spanned miles and looked directly down on the village.
“Wow,” I said. Church bell towers could be seen on every hill.
“Before I leave to meet your guests, I’ve set out some supper for you all in the kitchen. I thought you’d prefer to eat informally after your journey. Vinny has taken your cases upstairs. If you need me, please use the intercom. My cottage is just across the courtyard. Perhaps tomorrow, Mrs. Stone, we could discuss your menu requirements. I’ll be here in the morning but I’ll try not to disturb you.”
Before I’d even had the chance to reply, she was off. Gerry decided to investigate and ran up the stairs taking Sam and Scott with him, presumably to check out the bedrooms.
Fallen Angel, Part 4 - A Mafia Romance: Fallen Angel Series Page 23