Page 17 of Deal with the Devil
Ally shrugs. “You seem to be the only one willing to do something. Just promise me one thing, okay? Make them assholes pay. Bring them down.”
It’s late in the morning when I finally make it back to my apartment. The evidence Ally Sigler gave me is tucked away inside my purse. The first thing I do once I’m inside and I’ve locked the door is head toward my closet to hide what she’s given me.
All three items are safely stowed inside a shoe box at the very back. It’s where they’ll remain until I’m able to build the rest of the story. They’re some of the first pieces of tangible evidence I’ve been able to collect against the Belluccis.
But just in case, I’ve taken screenshots. I’ve saved copies.
You can never be too careful when you’re investigating the mob.
I often felt like I was being watched when I lived in Newport. That feeling hasn’t gone away in DC. In a lot of ways, it’s gotten worse—and so has my paranoia.
I shut the curtains at every window and double check the locks on the door. That’safterspending my entire trip back home looking over my shoulder at every turn.
It wouldn’t at all surprise me if someone were watching me.
The real question would be… why? What is their intention?
My intuition tells me just what. I’ve learned, even after last night at the gala, it’s more often than not right. It rarely leads me astray, and it’s something I should listen to. If I’m going all in on this investigation, then I need to do whatever is necessary.
Even if it means opening up old wounds…
I pick up my phone and start typing up a reply to a message I’d left on read.
If you’re still in town, we can do dinner.
Rafael answers almost immediately.
I‘ll be in DC for another day. Tonight work for you? 7 pm?
Sounds perfect.
5
PORTIA
Rafael standsthe moment he sees me, as if we’re polite strangers meeting for the first time and not two ex-lovers with a history.
I gift him a demure smile and stand back as he pulls out my chair and tells me how beautiful I look. I’ve dressed for the occasion—dinner at Sullivans is no easy feat to pull off with advance notice, let alone last minute.
But for a billionaire businessman like Rafael Calderone, the impossible is always possible.
Who was going to tell himno?
Rafael has rarely heard the word over the years. One of the reasons, I’ve come to realize, he’s so drawn to me.
He’s told me himself he likes a chase; he likes that I’m achallenge.
Tonight, I’ve dressed for distraction. I’m in a form-fitted dress made of sheer black organza that blends with the nude brown mesh underneath, playing an optical illusion in how it shows off my figure. The ruching on the sides creates a classichourglass shape while the sheer fabric makes it seem I’m showing more skin than I am.
The straps are thin and delicate, showing off my neck and shoulders just like Rafael loves. I’ve kept my hair down, hanging over my back, my bangs framing my face. A bold but classic red lip and some falsies were the finishing touch.
As I slide into the seat and Rafael pushes in my chair, he lingers a second. His hands rest on the back, precariously close to my bare shoulders. I hold my breath, a sudden warmth flooding me at how wrong this could go.
We’re both well aware of our attraction for each other.
Being in such close proximity might not be the smartest play for either of us. I catch a note of his cologne the same way he must recognize my perfume as he moves to the other side of his table and takes his seat.
Rafael looks fine in his tailored all-black two-piece suit. His beard has grown in thicker, and he still possesses that enigmatic gleam in his dark gaze that instantly sends a shiver racking down my spine.
