am sitting in my office with his brother, discussing adjustments to our strategy now that we know the face of our enemy, but Silvano only ever met Felicity Huffman briefly. He doesn’t know her like Vito did.
Vito and I used to spend hours discussing the various manipulations she used on my father, and all the ways she might become dangerous for us. I vowed that I would always stay one step ahead of her. If something happened to my father and she came for me next, I would make sure that I didn’t fall into her web.
Only, now I have. She has been pulling my strings for months, and I feel like an absolute idiot. I had no idea.
Silvano studies the photo on the desk. Felicity and my father are grinning at the camera. He looks handsome in an ink-black tux. She looks stunning in a floor-length purple gown. The photo is around five or six years old, but Felicity has barely aged.
“This is a good thing, Gabriel,” Silvano says, sliding the photo back to me. “We know who we’re dealing with now.”
“I know.” I toss the photo into a drawer, skin prickling.
Silvano’s mouth tugs down at the corners. “Your lips are saying one thing…”
I don’t know why Felicity’s reveal has rattled me so much. There is something incredibly disturbing about having my father’s former lover come back into my life, years after she nearly brought my father’s empire to ruin.
Because of Felicity, I have spent my life fearing manipulation by any woman. Now Jezebel herself has waltzed back onto the scene, and I suspect that any move I make to counter her will only send me further into her clutches. She has always been three steps ahead.
“I know, Silvano.” I take a breath. “I want you to set up street surveillance. If anyone so much as whispers her name, I want to know about it. Felicity Huffman has had years to prepare for this, and we’re only in the know now because she wants us to be. So I need all the information I can.”
Silvano nods. “I’ll make it happen.”
“Good. You can go.”
He pauses. “Do you have everything you need for tonight?”
“What do I need for a boring fundraiser other than a tux and a modicum of patience?” I inquire.
Silvano nods and leaves, and I lean back in my chair and try to relax my jaw. I should have known better. I should have known that a woman like Felicity Huffman wouldn’t give up so easily and that just because she disappeared after my father’s death didn’t mean she didn’t plan on resurfacing again.
My chest feels tight. My head aches. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, but it wouldn’t do any good. I need to keep myself together, now more than ever, even though it feels like everything in my life is slipping through my fingers.
I open the screen of my laptop and pull up the security footage from Alexis’ apartment. Just laying eyes on her starts to calm me down.
Alexis is emptying the dishwasher in the kitchen. She was offered a full staff to take care of domestic work, but she refused. She wanted to cook and clean and make the apartment a home for her and Harry. I always wonder if she is showing me the way life could be for us together; the kind of domestic bliss we could achieve away from my mansion.
“You always seem like you’re up to something,” I mutter, watching as she sets a stack of plates in the cupboard. “Even when you’re unloading the dishwasher, I assume you’re doing it with some sort of agenda.”
I have never spoken to her like this before. She has, of course, made a habit recently of addressing me through the lens of the camera, but I’ve never spoken back. At first, I feel too exposed, like my words will somehow carry backward through the wires and end up broadcasting in the kitchen.
Alexis carries on, finishing the dishwasher and then filling the small side sink with hot water and disinfectant. She starts wiping all the counters, carefully moving the appliances to get behind them.
The feeling of discomfort eases into one of relief. It feels good to say the words aloud, especially since nobody can hear me. Not Alexis, not my men, not Felicity Huffman.
I watch her pick her way through the kitchen, and the words I’ve been longing to say form on my tongue.
“I’m so angry with you, Alexis. I’m angry with