Page 34 of Declan's Dove

He gives a slight bow of his head. “Doctor is fine. Not everyone needs to know who I work for, hmm?”

“I understand.” I nod. It makes sense, I suppose, to want to keep this part of his practice, the part where he works for a criminal organization, private. “Thank you for taking care of Mili. I can’t begin to repay your kindness.”

“You don’t have to worry about repaying the good doctor anything, Miss Dupree. Your debt is with me.” Vincenzo’s smooth, deep voice rumbles from behind the doctor. He turns, giving a slight nod to Vincenzo.

“I need to tend to my rounds, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on Miss D’Angelo. Until then, keep an eye on her. Don’t let her move around too much and definitely not alone. She may get lightheaded or nauseous, which is to be expected with a concussion. Food, lots of fluids, and rest. Keep her meds on the schedule I gave you and call me should anything change. Otherwise, I’ll see you this evening.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Vincenzo says dismissively.

“I’d like to see Mili.”

“She’s sleeping,” Vincenzo says and starts walking past me down the hall. “Follow me, Miss Dupree. We have much to discuss.”

I peek in the door and see Mili tucked up under a dark gray comforter with pillows on either side of her. There’s a woman sitting in a plush chair beside the bed with a book in her hand.

“It wasn’t a suggestion, Violet.” I startle at the low rumble of Vincenzo’s voice. He’s managed to sneak up behind me, speaking low in my ear. It’s not the sexy way a man does when he wants to entice a woman. No. His is more of a disgruntled mob boss who doesn’t like being disobeyed.

Shit,

“Claudia will keep watch over Miss D’Angelo while we have some breakfast and discuss … matters.”

“S-s-sorry. I just wanted to see she was all right for myself. She’s—I owe her my life.”

“Hmm. Perhaps it’s not her you owe such a debt.” I shudder at his words. “Come.” Vincenzo takes my wrist in his hand and leads me to a formal dining room where another woman is placing three plates of food. Matteo enters from the other side of the room as the woman leaves.

Vincenzo pulls a chair out to the right of the table, motioning for me to sit. As soon as I do, he slides the chair to the table. Matteo sits in the chair across from me.

“Good morning, Dolcezza. Boss,” Matteo greets. Vincenzo nods.

“Good morning, Matteo.”

“How’d you sleep?” Matteo asks around a fork full of eggs.

“Um, as well as to be expected, I suppose,” I answer, lifting my fork from the table and staring at the mountain of food sitting on the plate before me. There are scrambled eggs, sausage, two strips of bacon, a bowl of fresh fruit and, to the side, a second plate with two pancakes. “Who are they expecting to feed with all of this?” I mumble to myself, but apparently not quietly enough as Matteo chuckles and answers, “You don’t have to eat it all, Dolcezza. The cook wasn’t sure what you or Emilia …” Vincenzo’s throat clears at the mention of her name and he gives Matteo a warning look I don’t quite understand.

“The cook wasn’t sure what you or Dr. D’Angelo might like so, he made an array of choices.” Matteo shrugs, shoveling another bite into his mouth, not the least bit phased by Vincenzo’s obvious disgruntlement.

“Miss Dupree,” Vincenzo starts. I drop my fork and stare at the infuriating man.

“You have known me and my son for two years now. You know my name is Violet. Please, use it. There’s no need for you to be so formal with me. If you wish for me to address you as Mr. Parisi, if I’ve somehow crossed the line of friendship mistakenly, then so be it. But please, I prefer to be called Violet.”

Vincenzo smirks, leaning back in his chair with his coffee mug in one hand. “Very well, Violet. What do you know about what happened to Emilia?”

“I know what you know,” I answer honestly. “She called me early in the morning and told me some bikers had beaten her to send a message to whoever stole their, um, shipment.”

“Women.” Matteo grunts. “The shipment of women was coming into Baron’s Edge for an auction.”

“An auction?” I ask, unsure if I want to know the answer.

“Whoever these men were that attacked Emilia were merely the transport team. I would imagine when they informed their client that they lost their shipment, whoever is paying them for their transport services wasn’t pleased.” Vincenzo continues. “Therefore, they felt the need to find the responsible party and make them pay for their mistake.”

“But how did they find Emilia? Kayce and his team are good at what they do. Flying under the radar is second nature to them. I don’t understand how this happened. Why didn’t they protect Emilia?” My anger is evident with the shakiness in my voice. “It’s not like Kayce to leave any shred of evidence as to who his team are or who they work with. They can make electronic trails vanish completely, create new identities, and have fail safes in place to prevent anyone who goes digging. They never leave a trail of any kind. So, how did anyone find out about Emilia’s involvement?”

“This is what I would like to know as well,” Vincenzo says, tapping his fingers on the side of his coffee cup. “Someone must’ve sent a similar message to the bikers who attacked her.”

“Or they threatened to take their cut of the take,” Matteo says. “Baron’s Edge is full of rich, depraved individuals. Maybe the loss of the shipment spooked a few, costing the orchestrator a big chunk of cash. To make up for his inconvenience, he takes his cut from the bikers and issues a warning.”

“Mmm.” Vincenzo grunts. “It would make sense.”

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