by Angie Derek
"Be ready by eight in the morning," he ordered.
"Sure thing—"
Marc cut him off by snapping the phone shut. Drawers thunked softly upstairs. Her cell phone vibrated on the table. It had been vibrating pretty much nonstop since she'd left it there. He wondered if her mother had returned home yet to find the letter he'd left from Jiovanni. Judging by her reaction on the phone, she hadn't. He walked toward the stairs to the second floor, but hesitated on actually climbing them. She'd been nervous in his presence, and since he was supposed to reassure and stay close to her he would need to work on that.
Her voice drifted out her open door. He couldn't make out her words, but it sounded like she was talking with someone and not just to herself, judging by the pauses. He climbed the stairs, trying to walk louder than he normally would to announce his presence.
She stepped into the opening of the doorway to what had to be her bedroom, a cordless phone tucked in between ear and shoulder. Her eyebrows raised in question. She'd changed out of her skimpy blue shorts and workout top into a demure knee-length skirt and blouse. He missed the skin-revealing clothes. Which was completely inappropriate of him, and he pushed the thought out of his mind.
"There's been a slight change of plans."
"Can you hold on a second?" Lessa pulled the phone away from her ear and covered the mouthpiece. "What bomb do you need to drop on me now?"
A spurt of amusement hit him, and he fought the smile wanting to emerge. "Just a little one. The pilot can't have the plane ready 'til morning. We'll take off at eight."
"You didn't mention how long I'm expected to visit."
"As long as you want."
She nodded slowly and put the phone back up to her ear. "I'm back, sorry about that. Yes, I'm packing right now. Maybe if I disappear off the radar for a little while."
He narrowed his eyes, but she had turned and walked back into her room, not paying attention to his presence. Why would she need to disappear?
"A week?" She laughed softly. "Thanks, Sharon. I'll call you as soon as I get back."
She hung the cordless phone up and set it in its base on the small nightstand by her bed. It rang almost as soon as she stepped away. She hesitated, listening to it ring, then hit the speaker button as her answering machine picked up downstairs.
A woman's voice spoke. "This is juvenile to not answer your phone, Alessandra." The woman paused and he guessed it was her mother, Erin Noelle. "If you don't call me back in the next five minutes I'm going to come over."
Lessa sighed and clicked off the speaker phone button. "Are you sure we can't leave tonight?"
"Yeah, the pilot says we can't take off until morning. Some FAA regulation. We could leave earlier, if you want."
"How early?"
"Four."
"Ugh." She sighed. "I can't stay here until then." She walked back over to her bag and zipped it up.
Marc hesitated a moment. "I made a reservation at a hotel near the airport. I can get you a room there for the night."
"That'll work." Lessa slung her bag over her shoulder and walked up to him, an expectant look on her face.
He blanked for a second before realizing she was waiting for him to leave her room first. He headed down stairs with her turning the lights off as she followed. He checked his watch again. Not really to check the time, but to see how long it had been since he'd touched base with his men back home. Two hours.
"Anxious to get back?"
"Yeah," Marc said, hedging. "There are a few things I need to do."
More than a few things. He couldn't hunt for Jiovanni's killer over his cell. He needed to be prowling the alleys. It didn't matter how well the hit man had covered his tracks. There was always someone who knew or saw something.
"What should I expect when we get there?" Lessa interrupted his running thoughts.
He pulled himself together and schooled his face not to show the annoyance and impatience he was feeling. "The family will be keeping Vigil. When we get there Ryan MacDonald, the family's attorney, will call them into the study to explain the trust and his bequests. He'll introduce you then."
"And then?"
"I can't say what'll happen. I'll stay beside you to show Jiovanni's support."
Frowning, she chewed on her lip and looked around her living room.
"You'll have your own suite at the house," he continued, wondering what was concerning her in particular. "It'd be best if I stayed with you. Because it's a suite, there's a sitting room with a couch I can sleep on."
Her gaze came back to meet his. Worry seemed to emanate from her. "You think I'm in danger from them."
"No," he said with certainty. The family would be upset by the news, but they'd respect Jiovanni's wishes whether they wanted to or not, in time.
She didn't move from her stance at the base of the stairs. "Why do you think he wanted me to come?"
He'd been asking himself the same question since Ryan had told him about her. "I don't know why he decided to contact you now, but I'm sure he had his reasons."
"I hope they're good reasons."
"Jiovanni didn't do things on a whim." He assured himself as well as her. "He wanted you to come and be a part of his family."
"After he died?"
He shrugged. Jiovanni's posthumous request for her to come was more than odd, but he wasn't always privy to his boss' thoughts especially on personal matters. He could understand Jiovanni leaving something for his unknown daughter, but to bring her into a world she didn't comprehend where she would be the target of anger directed at him? Marc couldn't figure that part out.
"What'd you do for my father?"
"What he asked me to do," he answered curtly.
It was up to her new family to decide how much she would know. He nearly laughed at what her reaction would most likely be. She'd probably run screaming up the stairs to bang on the wall and call 911 if she had any idea of the things he'd done for her father.
"Like watching over me," Lessa said.
"Yes, like watching over you," he answered, surprised she didn't push the questioning.
"You take your job seriously."
"Nothing will happen to you." As he said it, he realized he was giving her his own personal pledge. He tensed at the vow. His loyalty was to the family. It had always been to the family. Even if she was Jiovanni's daughter, she was an outsider and not a part of that. So, why did he feel so protective of her?
"I guess I'm just nervous."
"Don't be." Forcing a smile he hoped was reassuring, he stepped back to her front door.
She nodded and with a deep breath followed behind him, again flipping light switches as she went. He stepped out. A magazine with a hot woman in a revealing cheerleading outfit on the cover caught his eye. The breeze ruffled the pages, and he grabbed it before it blew off the porch.
"Yours?" He held it out to her.
She froze in the doorway, her eyes locked on the magazine. "No, not mine. But it's meant for me."
She held her hand out, but he hesitated on giving it to her, not liking the tightness that had reappeared around her eyes. She snatched it from him.
"One minute." She stepped back into her house and closed the door in his face.
Surprised, he didn't raise his hand to stop her, but was left standing in the humid heat. He pulled at the collar of his dress shirt as he considered what had just happened then leaned against the railing to wait. He'd give her five minutes. Her door opened on three.
"Sorry." She smiled nervously as she shut her door and locked it.
"What was that about?"
"Nothing, just needed to make a quick phone call. Let's go."
He debated pushing her, but it really wasn't any of his business. His job was to get her back to California. "I'll take your bag."
She shook her head and stepped lightly down the steps. "I've got it. I'll follow you."
"It'll be easier if you come in my car."
"For you. I'll need my car when I come
back home." She tossed her duffle bag into the back seat of her car.
"Right," he said, trailing after her. He didn't like letting her out of his control when he hadn't delivered her yet. But she was already climbing into her car.
He jogged to his, anxious to get her to the hotel and secured. He drove carefully, wanting to make sure he didn't accidentally lose her in the night. But she stayed right on his tail and pulled up next to him in the hotel parking lot.
It didn't take him long to add a second room to his bill and make sure it was connected to his own. Now that he was here his sense of urgency was increasing. Not knowing what his men were doing was eating at him.
Lessa trailed after him into her room. He did a quick and automatic safety inspection before handing her the room key.
"If you need anything, I'll be next door."
"Thank you, Marc."
"Be ready at seven?" Lessa nodded. "Then good night."
"Night." She shut the door behind him.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as he locked himself into his own room. Tossing his bag on the bed, he speed dialed Silvio Domani, one of his men currently doing what he should have been doing right then.
"Sir," Silvio answered.
"What do you have?" Marc did a quick walk through of the room before going to the window to look out over the parking lot.
"We've combed the area. The police have been out here in force."
Marc sighed, recognizing what Silvio hadn't said. If the police were there it was hampering his men's investigation.
"Informants?" Marc asked.
"Tony showed up about an hour ago and told us to lay off. That he'd handle it."
He bit back a curse. If Tony messed this up trying to prove he knew better, there'd be hell to pay. They didn't have time to deal with Tony trying to prove that he should be the next head of the family.
"What about Jio?"
"We're keeping him apprised," Silvio said, hesitation in his voice. "He's pretty busy with your mother and the other families."
"Any challenges?"
"Not yet. It's only a matter of time."
He read between the lines. "Any internal challenges?"
"I've heard some grumblings. This isn't the best time for you to jet off."
"No shit. I'm well aware of the timing, Silvio." He kept his voice low and controlled. "There's more going on. Can you keep it together?"
"Yes, sir." Silvio sounded chastised. "I'll let you know if I hear anything more concrete from any of the men."
"You do that." He needed his boys to be focused on finding Jiovanni's killer, not aiming for their next position. He rubbed his temple where a headache was beginning to form. "When are the cops goin' to clear the scene?"
"I'll talk with our snitch. I've been checking who's been coming and going and who's gone under."
"What've you come up with?"
"Nothin's jumped out," Silvio said almost apologetically. "I'll have it ready for you to look over when you get back."
Frustration ate at him. "So, you have zilch."
"It's still early, Boss."
"We should have him by now, Silvio. It's unacceptable. The person who killed Jiovanni will pay."
"We're workin' on it."
"I'll be back tomorrow. Have somethin' by then." Marc closed his phone in exasperation. He needed to be there.
The TV next door drummed softly. She was still awake. He sat on the bed and turned his own TV on to be safe. He didn't think she could hear him clearly, but it was better to err on the side of caution.
Tapping his fingers on the bedside table, he tried to focus on the problem at hand. Finding out who killed Jiovanni and why. Not knowing exactly what was going on back home was driving him crazy. First things first, he'd have to deal with Tony stepping in where he shouldn't. As Jiovanni's second son, Tony was too focused on proving himself to do anything right. Marc needed to find something else for Tony to do so he could put Silvio on the snitches.
A plan began to formulate in his mind, and he hit Redial to set it in motion.
Lessa had been running on nerves since Marco Santos stepped into her life. She'd slept fitfully in the hotel room. He'd been pretty close-lipped in the morning, preoccupied with something. During the flight he'd finally talked a little about her new siblings, telling her various childhood and family stories.
She hadn't been able to relate to any of them. Their life was different from her own in every single way she could think of. She'd listened the closest to the few things he'd said about her sister. Clarissa was still in college working on an MBA. She'd gone to all-female private schools her entire life. The only thing they seemed to have in common was Clarissa had taken ballet lessons in her youth and early teens before going on to other activities.
Her half-brothers were a whole other story. She had no idea how she would relate to them. Even though Marc had chatted off and on about her new family, she'd known he was holding a lot back. He'd carefully kept from saying anything about their professions or anything related. Taking his lead, she'd kept her questions to herself.
Lessa chewed on her nail as the limousine turned through a large gate. She looked out the window and heard Santos shift forward as well. The limo started to slow. At the end of a long, well-manicured driveway, an enormous house appeared. It wasn't even a house. It looked more like a mansion. She hadn't given much thought when he'd said the family home was the Tazio estate, but now she realized Santos really had meant estate.
"Keep going, Hank," he said. "We'll go in the back door."
The driver nodded and pulled around the house to where a series of garages lined up behind the main building. Santos climbed out of the limo and looked around. Reaching his hand in, he helped Lessa out. She looked up and up at the rear façade. It was at least four stories.
"You could have warned me." Lessa smoothed her simple grey skirt.
"What?" He glanced around.
"This is not a house." She pointed to the top floor. "No one would call this a house."
Santos laughed in surprise. "Doesn't matter how big, a home is a home."
She narrowed her eyes at him and he laughed again before turning back to Hank.
"Take her bags to Virginia," he said. "She'll see to them."
"Sir," Hank said, nodding and popping the trunk.
Santos led her up the stairs and she took several panicky breaths. She was here and about to meet her family. Trying to relax, she drew in a long breath as Santos opened the door and guided her into the kitchen. It was massive, with big picture windows letting in the sun. The terra cotta glowed and the stainless steel gleamed in the natural light.
An older woman, a practical black suit hugging her generous curves, stood alone at one of the granite countertops. She turned at the sound of the door, and her face lit up.
"Marco." She rushed forward for a hug. "I was worried. Where did you go off to?"
"Jiovanni sent me on an errand." He pulled Lessa forward. "Virginia, this is Alessandra, but she prefers Lessa. Lessa, this is Virginia Grayson. She keeps the house running. If you need anything you just ask Virginia and she'll see to it."
"Welcome, Lessa," Virginia said, studying her with open curiosity. She turned back to Marco Santos, but didn't ask any questions as Lessa would have expected.
"She's the special guest I called about."
"Oh, yes," Virginia said. "I prepared the suite for her."
"Good. Hank will be bringing her bag in."
"I'll see to them," Virginia said as the door opened again.
Hank stepped in carrying Lessa's bag.
"I'll talk with you later." Santos hustled Lessa out of the kitchen.
"Bye," Lessa called over her shoulder. "It was nice to meet you."
"You too my dear," Virginia said as the door shut behind them.
Lessa found herself in a wide hallway. Her heels clicked on the marble floor and she stumbled to a stop when a man suddenly stepped in front of them.
"Ryan
," Santos said in acknowledgement.
"This is her?" Ryan studied Lessa carefully.
Santos just looked back at him in response. She shifted closer to Santos as the red-headed newcomer towered over her, frowning. Suddenly his expression changed into a smile, and he no longer seemed as intimidating--which made her even more wary.
He took her hand to shake it. "Alessandra, I'm Ryan MacDonald, the family attorney." His Scottish accent added a slight lilt to his words. Her enjoyment of it momentarily distracted her."It's nice to finally meet you."
"Finally?" Lessa asked, confused at first by his word choice, but she refocused quickly and recalled Santos mentioning something about Jiovanni using his attorney to keep track of her.
MacDonald looked to Santos and shrugged awkwardly. "I've known about you for quite a while. Jiovanni wanted to be kept up to date on how you were doing."
She felt Santos' hand in the small of her back, as if to reassure her.
"Is the family assembled?" he asked MacDonald.
"They're gathering in the office right now." The attorney offered his arm to Lessa and motioned down the hall.
As if sensing her hesitation, Santos quickly stepped forward and led her down the long hallway himself toward a large door in the middle.
"I thought they were Vigiling?" she whispered.
Santos covered up a laugh with a cough. "They are, but life sometimes interrupts. Ready?"
She bit her lip and nodded. MacDonald opened the door and stepped into the room. Lessa hesitated with Santos waiting patiently beside her. Voices drifted out of the room, but she couldn't see anyone from where she stood.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. "Okay."
Then she opened her eyes, stepped inside, and faced her new family. They sat and stood about a room richly furnished in brown and deep green tones. Besides MacDonald, there were three other men and three women. And none of them looked anything like her. Hair so dark it looked almost black, brown eyes, and everyone a heck of a lot taller than she was. She tried to place in her head who would be who, but feared she'd be wrong.
