Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“She lost everything because of you.”
“Please, I’m sorry.” Mark leans forward, face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Mark,” Gavino says, gravelly voice almost gentle. He holds a hand up, stilling me, and I step back to try to get myself under control. It’s hard to see this man right now, knowing what he did to my mother. And for almost nothing. Not nearly enough for the pain it caused. “I need proof.”
Mark looks up, eyes watery, cheeks tear-stained. “Proof?”
“I need something to prove Malcolm really gave you that money. Anything at all.”
“I don’t have proof. He paid off my debt to the bookie—”
“You got a name?”
He nods. “Jimmy Granville. But this was seventeen years ago.”
“Doesn’t matter. What else do you have for me? Receipts, something in writing, anything?”
“We met in person only once and that’s it. I filed the paperwork to get her terminated and the next day Jimmy called to say my debts were wiped out by an anonymous donor. Said I was the luckiest man alive. I’m not sure that’s true.” Mark sobs once and I almost, almost feel sorry for him. A cat meows from the stove and hops up onto the top of the refrigerator, looking at me with those judging feline eyes.
“All right Mark. Here’s what we’ll do. You’re going to go about your life, but in the back of your mind, you’ll know one day I might come back. If I do, you’re going to tell me and whoever’s with me everything, all over again, just like you did today. If you do that, I won’t hurt you. I won’t burn down your place, lock the doors, and leave your cats inside to fry.”
“You wouldn’t.” His voice is a whisper.
“I would. Have a nice day at work.” Gavino gets up and nods for me to follow.
We head to the door. Mark remains at the table where we left him, unmoving, staring sightless. In the driveway, Gavino turns to me and grabs my arm, holding up his phone with a smirk.
“Got it recorded,” he says, tapping the screen.
“But what’s that confession going to do?”
“It’s a lead. Jimmy the bookie is next and hopefully he’s got more of a paper trail. Bookies are famous for their paper trails.”
“Even seventeen years later?”
“Hopefully.” He nods once and leans forward, looking into my eyes, searching for something. “You okay?”
“I think so.” I glance away, feeling sick. “I’m allergic to cats.”
He studies me and tilts my chin up toward him. I open my lips and he leans forward to kiss me gently, softly, slow. I let that kiss linger, taking strength from his touch, feeling my body respond to his closeness and to the memory of the pleasure he can give me that swirls through my brain.
“I just realized something,” he says, nuzzling against my throat. “You’ve never seen my room in the main house.”
“You have a room in the main house? I thought you lived in your little shack.”
He chuckles gently. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Chapter 23
Jeanie
His suite is in the center of the villa near all the other main family members. We pass Mirella in the hall on the way, and if she finds it strange that we’re walking along together so early, she doesn’t say anything. She only smiles and says good morning.
Even though he doesn’t live there anymore, the rooms remind me so much of him, but with much more personality. The main living area’s covered in fine rugs and antique furniture, and paintings hang on the walls. Gavino goes into his small kitchenette to make more coffee.
“What’s with all this stuff?” I ask, looking at the old statues and books and decorative items stuffed on bookcases and shelving units.
“I got into antiques for a while when I was younger,” he says, coming back into the room. He stands behind me as I stare at a small statue of women with enormous breasts, a huge middle section, a small head. “Fertility goddesses. Very old.”
“How old?”
“Couple thousand years.” He leans forward and kisses my neck. “I was a young man with too much money to blow.” I shiver with excitement, but don’t fall for his bait, not yet. I drift away, looking at the books and the photographs. I spot Gavino and his brothers looking a lot younger, and one of Karah with a baby in her arms—Emilio, I think—and another with Elise and Mirella and Olivia, probably from around the time they all first joined the family, all standing around on a beach looking happy.
This place is so different from his other house. There’s personality here and history. That house is devoid of all that, a beautiful place with lovely design and great amenities, but lacking character. All that’s here and then some. It’s hard to imagine Gavino was ever the kind of man to keep photographs of his family around and who bought expensive antiques and cared about the way his rooms looked, but the man standing near me and the man that lived here are two different people. I wonder if I would’ve liked that version of him the way I like this one.