Couple that with the assault rifle I’d brought in case of emergencies and we’d found ourselves with not one, but twelve dead MC stronzos. And to top it all off, our original mark had fucking run off and escaped while the fight went down.
Papa had lost his damn mind, claiming we were going to have to eliminate the whole Devil Hearts club before a real war broke out, but luckily their Pres had seen the light. He at least had a bit of sense about him and had realised that the Romeros would fucking obliterate them if we had to. He’d offered up his apologies, sworn he had nothing to do with the botched rescue attempt, had stripped the dead men of their patches so that they’d be shamed in death and had even offered us up our original mark already dead with his head in a box. As far as apologies went, it was pretty convincing. He’d assured us that he knew full well who ran Sinners Bay, and we’d brokered peace once more. All in all, a pretty satisfactory ending to the whole mess, but of course, Papa was still pissed. And of course, both Enzo and I would have to pay a punishment for it. I wasn’t sure what his was yet, but sending me to fucking Clarissa for a job was definitely mine.
Eventually, I turned away from the sea, taking the mountain road up and away from the coast where the houses were bigger, the security tighter. Clarissa’s house was down a private road and had a guy positioned by the front gate.
I slowed the car and looked out at him, offering a level stare without bothering to lower my window and let the freezing winter air inside.
He murmured some kind of greeting, ducking his head respectfully and entering the code to open the gate. It swung wide and I drove in, aiming for the heavy doors which fronted the house and parking up right before the steps leading up to them.
I released a weighted sigh, painting on a smile like I was glad to see my aunt before throwing the door open and hurrying up the steps.
My breath fogged around me and I shivered a little in my tailored suit, but it seemed a bit pointless to pull on a jacket for the thirty second walk to the house.
The bell echoed inside the building as I waited and after a few moments, a serving girl opened the door for me.
She looked me in the eye and pulled the door wide to admit me, offering a formal greeting as I not so subtly checked her out. She was new or I definitely hadn’t given her a proper look before if she wasn’t because the girl was hot. I offered her a flirtatious smile and I could have sworn she rolled her eyes as she turned away from me, directing me to follow her as I stepped into the warm embrace of the central heating. Interesting.
My designer shoes clacked across the hardwood floors as I trailed the girl, dipping my hands into my pants pockets as I glanced around at the opulently decorated space. There were more than a few photographs of Clarissa’s dead son Guido hanging in frames on the walls and I tried to ignore the repulsion I felt at seeing his smarmy face. The day that stronzo had been killed was a damn good day. Of course, Clarissa had no idea that I’d been involved in his death. Or that Rocco’s wife had been the one to do it before he helped her burn the body. No, she believed the idiota had fallen down the stairs and broken his neck. And if that gave her comfort then that was fine by me, so long as she wasn’t harbouring any great plans for revenge, she could think whatever she liked and mourn the memory of that monster to her heart’s content.
The girl led me to the conservatory at the back of the house where the view looked out over the frozen gardens and Clarissa sat drinking a cup of coffee. Her dark hair was pulled up into a severe bun and her features were pinched with irritation as she cut a glance my way.
“Nice of you to join me, Frankie,” she said, her tone hard as her gaze moved to the grandfather clock to my right.
I cut it a glance too, smirking as I realised I was almost an hour late. “Sorry, dear aunt,” I