Chapter 12
Sophia
Massimo is not pleased by my joke, although I meant every word of it, which he probably knew.
His protective arm tightens around me, bringing me face to face with him.
“Our attorney is on the way. You will say nothing. We’ll keep the officers company until he arrives, politely but with no discussion of the case or by answering any questions they have.
They were warned already with their barrage of accusations.
More of that and they’ll find themselves out of jobs. ”
He doesn’t say, or worse, at the bottom of the sea, all things that run through my mind as I contemplate what my father and his men would be doing right now if the positions were reversed.
Someone must be pushing the detectives’ buttons, especially for them to be back already after getting such a firm dismissal and warning from Massimo.
They don’t scare me. Well, maybe a little, but I’m not going to let them get under my skin.
What did Papa always say. Don’t let them unsettle you, tell them everything without telling them anything, be overly cooperative and not cooperative at all, make them feel like you’re bending over backwards to help them, when you’re not helping them at all.
Monkey dust. It always comes down to that.
Sprinkle a few things into the air and let them start chasing that while it gives you time to do what needs to be done.
I’ve got this Massimo, whether he thinks I do or not.
I am a Cassone, not some fragile little doll, and even though he protected me from the repercussions of committing the act, I did nothing wrong but defend myself.
Maybe being at the wrong place at the wrong time is my only crime, and of course not coming forward and divulging what I did to the police.
But it’s simply not our way. Amorte has to be the one I’m being chased down and questioned for, but if Papa were in old man Amorte’s place, he would be doing the same.
If he had lost sons, the whole world would be toppled on its head.
Unlike losing a daughter and my father not doing anything at all, or at least it seems that way to me.
As if Massimo can read my thoughts, he turns me to face him with a touch to my chin. “Say nothing, kitten. You keep those claws ready for me in the bedroom. Let the attorney deal with the detectives, understand?”
It’s not like he’s asking a question, really, but there’s a part of me that wants to show him that I’m not some little princess he needs to worry about leaving on their own.
I do know how to take care of myself. I will prove it to him the minute I get the chance with those lousy detectives.
They don’t get to get away with accusing me of crimes without one bit of evidence to back it up, because I was there and saw it all go up in flames.
Not that I’ll tell the detectives that, but I will give them something to think about whether Massimo likes it or not.
I glance over at the non-descript popular sedan the detectives are driving as Massimo gives me his hand and I get out of the car. The plain clothes detectives join us and walk with us up to the door just as a black sports car roars up the hill and parks behind us.
Leandro gets out and strides toward us as Elsie opens the front door and lets us inside.
Massimo guides us all to the great room.
Leandro looks like he’s just come from the office, dressed in a dark black suit that looks similar to Massimo’s but with a flashy red tie compared to Massimo’s conservative one.
It’s hard not to liken their tie preferences to their personalities, at least on the outside.
Although I think Leandro can be just as intense as Massimo when the need arises.
They are definitely brothers and just the fact that he dropped whatever he was in the middle of to be here clearly shows their bond.
We walk into the great room, letting Elsie and the men meet our uninvited guests at the door.
They walk into the great room and look around, taking in as much as they can without a warrant of any kind.
Massimo is far from kind. “You’re not welcome here without a warrant or our attorney. How dare you intrude on our night?”
The detective with the dark hair, Detective Brice, ignores Massimo and focuses his eyes on me.
He thinks he’s going to make me avert my eyes, let them shift to something else, belying my nervousness, but instead I look him dead in the eye.
“What brings you here again, Mr. Brice?” It’s been so long now since seeing them last that I thought the issue was done.
His irritation at my lack of address of his detective status is clear but he doesn’t take the bait or rise to the intentional oversight.
“We have a few more questions, things that have just come to light, and as you know, gives us the right to ask when in the middle of an investigation, especially of this magnitude.”
I give him a wink and cross my legs, letting the length of the long flap of my trench coat fall to the side, exposing a great deal of thigh. His eyes track the movement and his jaw tightens. I watch him swallow through his emotion and interest.
Now we’ve leveled the ground in terms of power play.
You shouldn’t come messing with me, thinking you’re going to scare me when I have plays of my own, fucker.
Papa taught me well. And I’m not opposed to showing a little leg if it throws you off your game.
Use anything and everything at your disposal to keep his attention diverted from his mission, and his mission is to bury you for a crime that was simply self-defense.
That’s not going to happen because underneath his Roselli name, he’s messing with a well-trained Cassone.
His partner clears his throat. Detective Loch rifles through his papers, bringing our attention to him while Brice composes himself.
I would laugh if I could, but probably better for the situation at whole that I keep my amusement to myself.
He had his guns drawn, was about to fire me with questions and lost his train of thought.
Yes, I do find that amusing in the greatest of ways.
The burning intensity in Massimo’s eyes heating my skin right through my coat tells me I may be paying for my little show later, but it was worth it a thousand times over, no matter what the cost. I’d do it over and over again in a heartbeat.
Detective Loch rifles his papers again, clearly a cue to get Detective Brice back in the game but I don’t give him a chance to say a word for Brice.
“Detective Brice, you had a reason for being here, no?” I ask quietly.
He clears his throat again, oddly ill at ease. And if I were him with Massimo and Leandro glaring at him with those dark Roselli brothers’ eyes, I would be a little nervous too. “It’s come to our attention that you were actually on board the yacht the day the yacht exploded. Is that true?”
Brice doesn’t hold back with his punches; that’s for damn sure.
How the hell could anyone have known I was on that yacht.
I have no idea but what I do know for sure is that I’m not answering that question without talking to Massimo’s lawyer.
I might flirt with danger a little if provoked, but I’m far from stupid.
I give him my best smile and uncross my leg, crossing the other, letting my sexy strappy four-inch heel dangle in the air, as though contemplating his question.
I track the hard swallow of his throat. Uncomfortable in the skin he lives in is exactly where I want him, especially after that question.
I glance at Massimo, who’s letting me have a moment no matter the restraint it’s taking not to intervene.
I have no doubt it’s all about perception.
He doesn’t have any choice but not to show emotion or play his over possessive hand.
“When is Emil arriving?” I ask him as though I know the family attorney personally.
Massimo glances at the vibration of his phone. “That would be him now,” he says, taking a seat next to me. I turn to Detective Brice. “Great, you can ask our attorney what questions he wishes to answer or if he’d like to have us all take a ride to the police station and do this officially, yes?”
A tall handsome man walks in, placing his black leather briefcase on the side table, and takes a seat in a wing back chair by its side.
He folds himself into the chair, rubbing his small clean goatee.
He doesn’t take the time to allow any introductions, just dives right in.
He gives Brice a pointed look. “You crossed the line the last time you were in my client’s home, and now you’re here again.
I hope that today’s questions are a little more resigned and you can meet the level of decorum a detective of your caliber is expected to have.
Now, let’s see what you have, then we can decide if we want to answer questions here or at the station, or if I need to connect with your superior and file an injunction to protect my clients. ”
Detective Brice’s face gets red, but his partner just looks like he’s been dragged into something that makes him completely uncomfortable.
I think every one of us sees the reactions, and personally, I think the lawyer made that statement simply for effect.
Damn he’s good. Now I know why the Rosellis use him and his partner exclusively.
They are known for their finesse when it matters and their ruthlessness in the courtroom when needed.
Brice stands all of a sudden, a burst of confidence, determination or something else fueling his adversarial position with these men of power.
There’s something almost dogged about his stance and the way he’s trying to get information bypassing usual and accepted norms. “What I asked Massimo Roselli’s lady friend,” he starts, but doesn’t get the chance to finish.
“She’s my wife,” Massimo growls.