lost all traces of him three nights ago. He disappeared into thin air. So when Natalie said she volunteered here with Lachlan and Shadow, I needed to take part, too.
I never thought that this would end with a knife to my throat.
“How do you know him?” I ask, then curse myself. That was too direct.
“I raised him.” She takes a sip of her tea and stares at the muslin curtain-covered window as if she’s seeing memories. “He had a harsh childhood so he turned into a harsh adult, but I know my Angelo is still there.”
“Angelo?” I take the cup to accept her hospitality even though I would rather have coffee.
“That’s his name. Shadow is a tough façade he puts on.”
“Oh.”
I would never associate him with the word angel. Ever.
Unless we’re talking about a fallen angel or something.
Her inquisitive gaze looms over me as if she seeing me for the first time. I feel a bit self-conscious and itch to cross the jacket over my slightly revealing top. At least I wore jeans today.
“What are you to my Angelo?”
“Nothing.” I smile awkwardly. “He’s basically my boss in the club.”
She hums, the look in her eyes suggestive. “Nothing, huh? Why do I have the feeling that it’s something?”
“No. Believe me. I’m allergic to arseholes.”
Her thin lips lift in a smirk. “But they can be infuriatingly handsome, right?”
I smile. She’s a playful old lady. I don’t know why that reminds me of Shadow. I take a sip of the tea, and its jasmine flavour warms my throat. “Have you known him for long?”
Her cup suspends halfway to her lips and she goes back to gazing in the distance. “It started three and a half decades ago in an extremely cold winter. My Giovanni and I were heading home after a date because of news of a snow storm. We heard a baby crying and found him in a rubbish can wrapped in a blanket. He was all blue and covered with snow. He was barely a few months old. It’s a miracle he didn’t die, but my Angelo is a fighter. He always was.”
My heart tugs. The man almost killed me and I feel bad for him. No. I’m hurt for the baby version of him. No one deserves such cruelty.
She reaches for a wooden box on the desk and opens it. “This is the only thing I found with him.”
The golden necklace is thin but appears of super high quality with intricate, striking carving. The pendant contains a crest-like design on it with a symbol of a rowan tree.
“He was taken into the foster system,” she continues. “Mine and Giovanni’s financial situation didn’t allow us to apply for adoption, so I made sure to take care of him even as part of my job. He was frail and skinny when he was a boy so he was constantly bullied and assaulted by other kids. I’d find him all bloodied and bruised, but he’d wipe his snotty nose and rein in the pain. He was always a survivor.”
I take an absent-minded sip from my tepid tea. That must be why he hates being touched. “Is that why he’s become what he is right now?”
“What he is?”
I hesitate. Sure she knows he’s a gangster and most definitely a killer. “You saw the knife.”
She releases a long, pained sigh. “I don’t know. I lost touch with him for more than twenty years. My mother was sick back then, and I wasn’t there for him as I should. I think he took the wrong road. One day, he wasn’t in the school or in the streets or where he usually hangs out. He just disappeared.” Tears rim her wrinkled eyes. “For a long time, I thought he was killed. I reported it to the police, but since he was eleven, they ruled it as a runaway case. Even when I told them that he wouldn’t have left without telling me goodbye. I’m his Nonna.”
She sniffs, and my heart breaks for her. A small smile breaks on her thin lips. “Then, like an angel, he showed up here not so long ago.”
That means something happened to him in those years he spent away from his Nonna. How did Angelo turn into Shadow?
And shit. Why am I so invested in this?
It’s only because I need his arse to approve President Joe, and I have to get to know the enemy for that. Nothing more.
Absolutely nothing.
“One minute.” Nonna stands and leaves the room with measured steps.