Page 18 of Midnight Legacy

He hadn’t been a good person, but he was family. I waited for the grief and remorse to arrive, but nothing came, and I stood in the church feeling numb.

Cassandra’s hand slipped into mine and her weight leaned against me. I’d known people most of my life and they couldn’t read my emotions the way this woman could. From the first moment I found her, I knew there was something special about her. An intrinsic goodness that I needed in my life to balance the darkness.

I listened to the words of the minister, who was trying to convince us that Michael had been a good man who currently resided in heaven with all the other saints that he’d buried. He’d been an arrogant bastard who destroyed the lives of anyone who opposed him. He may not have pulled a trigger, but he’d ensured that those he set his sights on wished he had.

Ash’s mother went from sobbing softly to wailing. Ash wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her into him.

“Fuck,” I muttered. All this was my fault. We were all sitting here because of me.

The reception afterward was just as mind-numbing. We were just trying to make our escape when a man sidled up beside Jordan and me.

“I believe you wouldn’t speak to my minions,” he said, his voice deep with a slight accent.

I refused to look at Cassandra, who was standing making small talk with some of the other wives. She was my weakness, but I could never show it in front of a man like this. Instead, I feigned indifference.

“This is the funeral of a friend. What makes you think that I have any intention of discussing business right now?” My gaze ran over him, mentally assessing him and trying to find him in my memory banks. He was around my height at six-foot-two, muscular, with slicked back black hair and eyes that were so dark they were almost black. His tan suggested that he spent most of his time in foreign climates filled with sunshine.

“I thought you weren’t allowed into this country, Dante,” Jordan said, sipping his coffee. “Last time I checked you were highly sought after by Interpol.”

His dark eyes moved to Jordan. “You’re very well informed.”

Jordan’s lips tipped up in a half smile. “I like to know who I’m dealing with. There are very few men who have the power and cash to own island sex resorts.”

The stranger’s one blink was his only reaction before he turned his attention back to me. “I will be in the country for the next few days. Perhaps we could meet at the opening of your new club tomorrow night?”

I gave him my best practised smile that I’d cultivated for the paparazzi. “Unfortunately, all the invitations have been sent out and the rooms booked. I can slot you in on Saturday afternoon.” There was no way I would allow a known criminal at the opening of our new venture since cameras would be everywhere for publicity shots before we opened. “I’m sure you understand.”

His vicious smile told me he’d been testing to see how far he could push me. The answer was not very far.

Jordan continued to sip his coffee. “We run legitimate businesses. If you need to speak to me or my client, I would suggest that the meeting be far from prying eyes.”

Dante’s head inclined slightly. “Saturday afternoon is suitable. I have other people I need to visit while I’m in the country.” He retrieved a business card from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Let me know the arrangements. Since you refuse to deal with my men, I would appreciate that you do not pass my contact details around.”

With that, he wandered across the room with the confidence of someone who owned the house and was entertaining guests. He deliberately stopped and watched Cassandra. I received his message that he obviously knew exactly who she was and wanted me to know he had eyes on my wife.

I swallowed the rage that demanded I storm across the room and drag him from this house to beat him into a pulp. My hand fisted at my side.

“Who’s that?” Ash appeared beside me.

“That is the puppet master whose minions Zee insulted a few weeks ago,” Jordan replied, his own gaze locked on the man who’d added another problem to my growing list.

“Looks like you got his attention,” Ash commented. “Who is he?”

“Dante,” Jordan answered. “He has so many different names, I doubt anyone knows the real one. He was an arms dealer and diversified over the years. He’s obviously using his routes for the skin trade instead of gun-running.”

“Why is he in my family home at my brother’s funeral?”

“I think the bigger question is—why is he talking to your father as if he’s an old friend?” I retorted.

Ash’s shoulders slumped. “Meaning?”

“I’m not sure, but Dad was trying to sell Malcolm’s properties illegally. That’s not like him. Now this Dante guy walks in here like he owns the place and your dad welcomes him with open arms. Nothing feels right anymore.”

As if they felt our eyes on them, Matteus and Dante turned to stare at us. A tremor of fear unfurled in my stomach. For years, we’d worked for the Council, and now I was beginning to see a sinister element that I’d never witnessed before. We were criminals, but I’d always classified us as the good type. Now, I was faced with the real possibility that our fathers had been involved in activities that made me sick to the core.

Suddenly, the questions about Doulton and the files pertaining to him needed answers. The shadows around the death of Cassandra’s parents needed chased away so we could clearly see what happened. There were too many pieces missing from the jigsaw puzzle to see what the actual picture was supposed to be.

Cassandra’s head came up and she followed my line of sight to the devil in a suit who was still watching my wife. Her brow furrowed and her mouth fell open as his lips tilted up in a smile.

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