Page 122 of Scorned Beauty

I glanced over my shoulder, watching the writhing body on the mattress. The smell of antiseptic couldn’t disguise the stench arising from his diseased flesh and soiled bedding.

“We’re done here,” Sandro said. “Let the drug do its job. His vitals are on my phone.”

I turned once more to face Grigori. “Rot in hell, motherfucker.”

We were on the second level of Margo’s mansion. The security in this house was discreet, but I believed, like the De Luccis, there was a whole other operation in the basement. The unlived-in state of the first floor was merely a cover.

Margo met us at the bottom of the staircase. She scrunched her nose. “I believe you men are satisfied?”

“Not until I catch Anton.”

“I gave you all the leads,” Margo said. “Just don’t act against the Russians.”

“If Kirill retaliates, then we have no choice but to defend ourselves. Don’t tell me he doesn’t suspect you know where Grigori is.”

“He does,” the woman responded. “But if he wants any hope of clearing Kolya’s name, he will stand down.”

I raised a brow. “He must hate that.”

“Men always do when you have them by their testicles.” She smiled shrewdly. “Still, I wouldn’t underestimate Kirill.”

“If an innocent man is in prison, I don’t see why you would withhold any evidence to clear his name,” Sandro argued.

Margo narrowed her eyes at Sandro. “I believe, Mr. Rossi, you have outstayed your welcome here.” She pointedly walked to the entrance and opened the door with practiced grace, belying her scornful words.

Sandro and I exited the property, noting how it had given me the creeps. Though I’d like to investigate Margo some more after the contract my sister had struck with her, my objective was to get my girl ready for her unveiling.

We just reached Manhattan when Sandro told me that Grigori was dead.

Chapter

Thirty-One

Dom

Me

Well?

Bianca

Well, what?

Can I meet you girls somewhere now?

Well…

It wasthree days before the gala. Sera created a girls chat called Sloane Makeover, which I insisted to be included on. I was sitting in Jabbin’ Java having my third double espresso. Did I have other boss things to do? Yes. Did I feel like doing them? No. I was a love-sick fool, craving a crumb of attention from the girl I’d once rejected. And my cousins gatekeeping Sloane was wearing on me. It was also fear. I acknowledged now that one of the reasons I kept Sloane to myself was because her beauty would eclipse everyone beside her. Hell, she deliberatelydownplayed her looks to avoid attention. My cousins and sister were determined to unleash her beauty in a Sloane tsunami.

I was determined not to be ignored.

Me

I was supposed to accompany Sloane to her fitting.

Bianca

You can’t see her dress.