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Good enough on the eye.
I check myself out in the mirror beside my bedroom door at the end of the hallway. A low purple light flows into the room, not much brighter than darkness itself. But it does the job.
I don’t like light.
I smooth the front of my black dress shirt and pull out my phone from my pants pocket to check the text I just received.
Liam: I’m outside.
What the fuck am I supposed to do with him being outside fifteen minutes early? This is the thing with Liam. He always shows up too early.
I spin, satisfied with how I look. Leaving yesterday behind me as much as I can, I stalk down the hallway. I am tempted to stop by Olivia’s apartment, but that wouldn’t be wise.
I slipped yesterday. I have to find a way to control myself before I see her again because whatever do, I have to make sure I’m going in with a clear head.
I have ordered for her to be fed regularly and have placed two men outside her door to ensure she doesn’t step out of her room.
She is not here on a vacation. She is my prisoner, and I must not lose sight of that crucial fact.
But fuck it.
I miss her.
The frustration of kissing her and not being able to do more cost me my sleep last night.
And despite the fact that yesterday was my wedding night, my entire being, my body was just screaming for Olivia. I should feel guilty for thinking about fucking another woman when my wife had been dead for a handful of hours. I should, but I don’t that much.
I bounce down the stairs and wave at Pedro as he is turning into the kitchen. He shoots his head out and smiles at me.
“Good morning, boss,” he walks back out, “I made mango extract to go,” he offers my favorite, and I shake my head.
I started eating more fruit in high school because of Olivia. But right now, this fucking mango extract seems like yet another temptation reminding me of the woman in my house.
“No, thanks.” I stride to the main door, and it opens for me to step out. I find Liam at the bottom of the stairs, with a vape between his lips, in a gray two-piece suit and brown dress shoes.
“Isn’t it too early to be smoking that shit?” I walk down to him while fishing for the cigarette in my pocket and my electronic lighter.
“To each their own,” he chimes his best defense whenever I question his preference.
“You can do better,” I take my cigarette to my lips and go to the red car I chose for the occasion.
“I like the blue better,” Liam comes after me.
“To each their own,” I blow through the cigarette between my lips and, while Liam settles into the passenger seat, Ihead to the back whereTim, a lanky redhead with more mustache than I've ever seen and not a single strand of beard, is holding open the door for me.
Tim then slides into the driver's seatand leads us out of the manor, a second vehicle following behind.
I know I'm going to see Cesare, but it's best to show up and play the game he so fucking loves to play because the man can be vicious when he doesn't need to be.
In any case, I need him to allow me to investigate and track down the murderer. And I have to do it without giving the impression that I'm interested in Olivia other than the possibility that she's innocent.
I doubt that part will be possible, especially with a man like Cesare. He sees too much.
We get to the Ferreri estate, and I toss the remaining of my cigarette outside through the window of the moving car as some of his men clear us at the gate.
There are a lot of people prancing around with weapons like they are waiting to be ambushed. His house is the largest building amidst the throws of other bungalows surrounding it.
“Stay here, but remain on guard,” I alight from the car, and Liam does the same.
