Page 47 of Legacy of Deception

There was something so comforting about the way Brooklyn handled things. She had a gentle touch and a soft voice. Nope, none of that was true. In fact, it was literally the polar opposite with her.

The squawk that came from her end of the line made me wish I hadn’t picked up immediately. That would teach me to never pick up on the first ring when the caller ID glowed her name on my screen.

Passing my bags to the driver, I answered in a clipped tone, “Airport.”

“Nice try. No, you’re not.”

“Will there be anything else, sir?” the driver asked, and I shook my head, signaling as I walked around to the back seat of the car.

Brooklyn’s breathing amped up, and a crackling sound had me taking the phone away from my ear. “Who was that? Marco, I have no pull when it comes to your family, and I don’t necessarily see them waiting for you.”

That was because she was astute. I could count on maybe one or two of them, if I thought really hard on it, who would make an effort to get them to wait for me. However, only some of my family was heading home. Others decided to stay a while longer. Apparently, the smell of desperate gambling and cheating really drew a person in. Not this person, but people.

“It’s irrelevant who that was. I’m leaving the Boca Raton Airport, getting in the car as we speak.” During our initial meeting, I had found it slightly cute that she had been curious about my agenda. Slightly being the keyword there, though. Now, not so much.

“Sure, Anna.”

I waited as she was clearly in the middle of some side conversation with my aunt.

Clearing her throat, she brought her attention back to me, her voice coming in clearer as she spoke to the phone again. “What’s in Boca Raton?”

Sighing, I wondered if the driver decided to take a social call after putting my bags away. I found it incredibly difficult to believe my few bags took him that long to place in the trunk before shutting it. “Beaches, country clubs, golf courses, and butterfly gardens, depending on where exactly you venture to.” The driver finally got in the car and started it.

“You know, I truly hope this is a side of you only I’m privy to.” The sarcasm was evident in her tone.

The corners of my lips tilted upward in sadistic delight at her reaction. “Business,” I finally answered the way she had wanted me to from the beginning. “I’ll see you back at home.” I lifted it off my ear but stopped when she responded with something other than all right or bye.

“It’s a little late for you to explain yourself now.”

“I’m not explaining anything.”

Pause.

Sighing, I pushed a hand through my hair and leaned back, letting my head hit the headrest. She wasn’t going to make this easy. I would’ve taken her with me, but this trip was strictly business. “Keep this between us, but I need to talk to Aunt Babe.”

“Which one is she again?” she asked, confusion lacing her words. Images of a crinkle appearing on her forehead as she struggled to remember my complicated family tree came to my mind.

“She was married to Matteo,” I clarified, looking at the rearview mirror to make sure he was keeping his eyes on the road and not being entertained by my conversation. Not that it mattered since everyone on the Deluca payroll had non-disclosure agreements. Literally everyone. It was a requirement to work for us.

“Got it. Go on.”

“She’ll know something that can help me take down Santo. I’m certain of it.”

“What makes you so sure?” Her pitch heightened, and I was beginning to recall why I hadn’t told her any of this to begin with.

I turned my pinky ring. “Because, before she married my uncle Matteo, she had a torrid affair with my father.”

“I thought Capri once told me that your father had an affair with Elio’s wife.”

I shook my head, my eyes going to the darkened window at my side. “My father’s no altar boy. He’s been with both women.”

“What about your mother?”

“What about her?” I crinkled my nose. “Aunt Babe isn’t anything like my mother,” I said, thinking back to all the stories I’d heard growing up and the way I remembered her, which was often at odds with one another. “The relationship she had with my father wasn’t even remotely similar to the relationship he has with my mother. Aunt Babe’s relationship with him was dark at times. It was built on an obsession, and not just with each other, but with power, greed, and connections. They were both terribly thickheaded and did things to get a rise out of the other. In the end, she vowed to destroy him, and her way of doing that had been by cozying up to my uncle. Unbeknownst to her, he had always harbored unrequited feelings for her.”

Whistling, she took a beat before asking, “Why haven’t you spoken to her yet?”

It wasn’t that simple. “It’s something I have to do in person.”