Scorned Beauty: Chapter 26

My first visit while at Dom’s penthouse was from the feds. I was surprised Dom had let them know I was back in town, but he had a De Lucci lawyer and Lucy who’d graduated law, keep me from answering entrapment questions. None of their questions related to my job in cleaning Elyse Bailey’s apartment because technically Billy and I were working for them at that time. The feds were the ones who fucked up.

So they only asked me about my whereabouts after Anton kidnapped me and I was honest with them about where I was and I informed them I didn’t know the person who had rescued me. I gave them records of my therapy visits and that I had been in a depressive state and was on medication. The feds, clearly frustrated, scheduled another interview, but they called back later in the day and said they were done with me.

I didn’t know who intervened for me, but I was still indifferent to what was happening in my life. I did an e-visit with my therapist and she adjusted my anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication, lowering the dosage of each.

It was now day three since my return to Manhattan. I finally scrounged up the courage to visit my brother’s grave at the cemetery. In the back of my mind, I knew I should feel more emotion. The lack of reaction was troubling knowing that Dom took care of his burial. I also knew I should be thankful, but I simply didn’t care.

You don’t care about me now, sis?

I’d been having less and less imaginary conversations with Billy. Reconnecting with my friends aided in pulling me out of my head.

You dug your own grave.

Ouch. But I’m at peace now. Are you?

No, I was not.

Dom gave us the all clear to move around. Apparently, the bratva had reached a renewed truce with the De Luccis, but Kolya Petrov had been indicted for the murder of Elyse Bailey and remained behind bars awaiting trial. For Zahkarov Holdings, the press release was that one of their security personnel was accused of being a copycat serial killer and they maintained he was innocent and the real Mistress Strangler was still out there. Their publicity machine certainly knew how to spin this. Lucy scoffed that Kolya had gained a fan following and there were women sending him lingerie in jail with a note that said, “Choke me with this.” As for Kirill, I still had no idea why he appeared at the Outer Banks other than to piss off Dom. This reiterated the issue between Dom and me. Despite everything that happened, we did the right thing to hide our affair.

It was now out in the open that Dom’s enemies could use me as leverage.

But I wasn’t technically with Dom. I didn’t know where that left me. I was doing this one baby step at a time, one day at a time. And after my visit to Billy’s grave, I decided to make Harriet my next stop.

When I arrived at Delphine, she was sitting up in bed with a blanket across her lap. The joy on her face upon seeing me elicited a nagging guilt in my chest.

“I’m sorry I left,” I said simply. I set the cat carrier on the floor and let Ginger out. The orange cat gave a tiny mewl and jumped on Harriet’s bed.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I was never really mad at you. You’ve done nothing but help my family. I was just in shock, that’s all.” I sat on the other side of her bed. “How are you feeling? Miss Sheila said you’re under the weather.”

“Just my joints reminding me I’m an old woman,” she said. “I’m sorry about Billy.”

I guessed we were jumping straight to the elephant in the room.

Sadness wrapped around my heart and squeezed some of the frost out of it. “I visited his grave this morning,” I whispered. “I couldn’t cry. I think I cried more during those first few weeks away. Maybe I’m all out of tears.”

Harriet reached across and wrapped her frail fingers around mine. “He did the right thing in the end.”

“Your hand is icy. Do you want me to turn down the AC?”

“My hands are always cold. Stop deflecting.”

“I’m not.”

“Listen.” Her voice was gravelly. “Billy couldn’t get over what he did to your father and what he did to you, letting you think your dad didn’t want you. Your mom didn’t foresee the implications to your mental health.”

“I don’t blame Mom either for hiding it from me. All she did was try to survive and keep us off the streets.”

Because of me. Because it was my fault. Because I dared to dream I could be a princess and wear an expensive emerald necklace the color of my eyes.

“In her mind she was doing the right thing.” Harriet broke through my involuntary flashback. “Keeping Billy out of jail…”

“As if rehab wasn’t prison.”

“And it left you with abandonment and trust issues.”

And being called trash.

“Now, you have good friends who care for you…Bianca and Sera…” She smiled. “I met them. And I met their cousin Dom at Billy’s funeral.” Her smile turned sly. “I knew that man wasn’t just a sympathetic bystander. Bianca told me he adopted Ginger.” Harriet stroked the cat’s fur and Ginger erupted into a purr box.

“No adoption happened,” I retorted. “She’s still our cat, Harriet.”

Huh. That jab of emotion, even if it was of irritation, was a welcome sensation. I reluctantly attributed it to Dom. Earlier this morning, the same feeling rattled me when a beautiful arrangement of dark purple dahlias arrived. With it was a note:

Elegance…I scoffed. What? Did he see a dahlia and then google its significance? Or did he have one of his minions come up with the type of flower to send me?

I hadn’t seen him in three days, and I refused to think that was why I was annoyed at him. Bianca and Sera informed me he never, not once, brought a hookup or a date to the penthouse. It was his sacred place he reserved for family. And now I kicked him out of living there. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Relief? Pressure? Pleasure?

Before I could overthink and give myself a migraine, Miss Sheila, the facility administrator, poked her head in the room. “Sloane, you gotta minute?”

I glanced at Harriet. “You okay with Ginger?”

She waved me off. “Go, we ladies are fine.”

I followed the administrator to the office and was shocked when I saw Sera and Bianca there.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Don’t be mad.” Sera stood.

“What’s going on?” I almost backed away from the room with the feeling that I was about to get flattened by a bulldozer. Of course, my suspicious mind went to Dom.

Miss Shiela rounded her desk and sat behind it. She pushed a folder across it. I recognized it as my Capstone proposal. “I told you they were great ideas, Sloane, and they were doable if the board would approve it.”

“They rejected it. What changed?”

Sera handed me another folder. “Bowman Inc. has acquired controlling shares of the Delphine group. We’re impressed with your proposal to improve resident care and staff training with the focus on specialized assistance for seniors. We have resources to upgrade the computer system and improve response times for emergencies.”

Sera’s specialty was in business process re-engineering, and I’d heard Bowman Inc. mentioned before. I wasn’t sure what kind of company it was. The last thing I wanted was for the nursing home to be used for money laundering. My duality about being a nurse and serving the mob came crashing back.

I wanted to break free from them, not get further involved.

“I’ll have to think about this.” I held up Sera’s proposal. “Is this my copy?”

“Yes.”

“Then, excuse me, I need to get back to Harriet.”

Sera and Bianca didn’t follow me to Harriet’s room, but they were waiting for me outside the Delphine building.

I was glad they took the hint that there were questions I wanted to ask without putting them at a disadvantage by exposing the inner workings of the mafia.

“Coffee? Jabbin’ Java?” Bianca asked.

“I need to bring Ginger back to the penthouse.”

“No need. She can stay with Sam on the second floor. Sam loves cats but Renz and Liz can’t have pets because of the café, but once in a while should be fine.”

“All right.”

I hadn’t been to Jabbin’ Java in months, but we found a corner booth near the kitchen where we could discuss the Delphine proposal.

Renz delivered our cappuccinos and danishes.

“Is this new?” Bianca asked her brother.

“Yes, matcha and passion fruit.”

“It’s so pretty,” I said and took a bite. “It’s delicious too.”

“Why don’t you do matcha lattes?” Sera asked.

“Nah, and have the Italians revolt?” Renz laughed.

I gave a shake of my head and took a sip of my cappuccino while the De Luccis did small talk. After Renz left our table, Sera tipped her chin to the folder in front of me. “You have concerns.”

“Where is the money coming from?”

“We’re not laundering money. Bowman Inc. is a shell company, but the monies funneled through it are seized assets from criminal organizations who profit from human trafficking. We’re merely redirecting those funds to more appropriate use. We’ve used it for homeless shelters and a host of other charities.”

“Why not continue with those charities? Why the interest in Delphine? You know the clientele are not exactly destitute.”

Sera leaned forward while Bianca side-eyed her. There had to be a mafia angle to this. “Okay, so we’re making some provisions for older adults who have nowhere to go. Victims of criminal violence. Most homeless shelters are not equipped to handle them. Mafia families also have their own issues. Luca and Dom had talked about easing the worries of their soldiers regarding retirement homes. And you know the Italians. The last thing they want to do is to put their parents or grandparents in assisted living. But the guilt of not doing so is not the healthiest or practical alternative, especially when they need nurse supervision. The plan you’ve submitted appealed to both Luca, Sandro, and yes, Dom, so in a way, we are using these homes as an alternative for mafia families.”

“Sort of like a pension for mafia soldiers,” Bianca piped in. “You know Al and Arnie Scavo are not getting any younger and their mom is ninety and is complaining about her assisted living facility.”

“It would also make it easier for the holidays, too,” Sera said.

My hand shook when I lifted the cappuccino to my lips. Excitement was rattling inside me. I laughed lightly, lowering the cup. “I trust you not to hide anything in the fine print, and oh my God.” I put a hand over my chest, and I could feel my heart pounding. This was a dream and my mind was swirling with all kinds of plans I could do for Delphine residents. “I…I haven’t even graduated or passed the NCLEX.”

“You’ve proven yourself enough, Sloane. To us.” Bianca reached across the table for my hand and squeezed. “You’re tenacious, smart.”

“Zio Luca asked to look at your transcript.” Sera laughed. “He is in a trust-but-verify position. And he had his own private investigator interview a few of your instructors. Your nurse supervisor in your ER rotation gave you a stellar commendation.”

“I missed graduation,” I said. “But I’ve earned enough clinical hours to take the NCLEX.”

“Does that mean you’re considering it?”

I laughed lightly again. For the first time since Billy died, I was seeing a way out of the dark tunnel that seemed to swallow me each morning when I woke up and each night I fell asleep. “But what would be my position in the family?”

“Bowman Inc. is part of an organization that is mafia adjacent,” Sera said. “I can’t reveal its inner workings until you pass a waiting period or marry a member.”

Bianca’s lips rolled as if she was controlling a smile or her urge to speak.

Sera’s expression was deadpan, as if she was waiting for me to say something, too.

“And is Dom a member?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to answer to him?”

“No, Matteo is the head of the organization, and I function as his adviser,” Sera said.

“A woman-empowered organization. I like it.”

“So…?” Bianca asked. She was obviously impatient. In fact, she seemed to be squirming in her seat.

“What’s up with you?” I asked.

“Just say yes, already,” she griped while Sera laughed.

“I feel like there’s a catch.” My voice turned wary.

Sera glared at Bianca. “Now you’ve done it.”

“I’ll do it, but on a provisionary basis. If there’s something that’s not working, I can back out.”

“I don’t think the dons would want you to leave a project in the middle,” Sera said.

“We can do this in phases,” I said. “Improve resident care first.”

“That seems fair,” Sera agreed.

“So that’s a yes?” Bianca asked.

Hmm…she was really pushy.

I grinned at her. “That’s a yes.”

She clapped her hands and gave a small squeal of delight. Sometimes I forgot that despite being married to one of the scariest MOFOs in New York, Bianca was younger than me at barely twenty-five. She dug into her purse and handed me two cards. Two black cards. Credit cards?

One bore only a chip. And the other one had my name.

“What are these?”

“This…” She pushed the no-name one forward. “Is for anything you need to purchase for project implementation. Miss Sheila will have her own account, too. This one with your name…” She slid the other one beside the first black card. “Is for your personal expenses related to the running of the project.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Personal expenses.”

“You’ll be required to attend benefit and charity galas. Hire limos. You can purchase your own vehicle with it, too.”

Fucking Dom.

“Is this charged to Dom’s account or Bowmans Inc.’s” I tapped on the card with my name.

Bianca blew out a breath. “Ugh, why do you have to be so picky? Dom’s.”

Both women watched me like I was about to bolt, but I was suddenly empowered to change tactics. I grabbed both cards. “You can tell your cousin that he’s going to regret giving me his card.”

Sera laughed. “Attagirl.”