CHAPTER 19
As she drove home from work, Allegra let out a sigh of frustration and slowly shook her head. The woman hated it when things were out of her control, and that was exactly what she had been experiencing for the past few weeks. It was as if the entire universe were plotting against her.
No, I don’t think I’m paranoid at all, Allegra told herself, doing a quick rundown of everything that wasn’t quite right.
First, there was that weird-looking lady who ran into her in the parking lot.
She almost knocked me over, and it was no wonder, given how absorbed she was, walking with her head down, eyes glued to her phone’s screen.
The woman didn’t react at all, not even when Allegra, irritated, told her to watch her step, which she found extremely rude.
However, a few minutes later, just as she was about to start the car, that strange lady approached the vehicle.
When Allegra rolled down the window, the woman apologized and handed her the phone, saying she had dropped it when they ran into each other.
The incident was very strange, especially the part about her dropping the phone.
Allegra frowned as she recalled it. She wasn’t the type to use the device while in motion, whether making calls, typing messages, or returning or checking missed ones.
As soon as she left the building, she put the phone into her purse.
The strange woman nearly knocking her over in the parking lot wasn’t the only thing that frustrated Allegra.
The librarian at the place where Esteban worked part-time was on vacation, so without the conversations he and his friend Leon had, she didn’t have any news about what Ottavio and the members of The Council were doing.
However, the final straw was Bob Dixon, a redneck, tracking her down. How he managed to do that was beyond Allegra’s understanding; he lived at Bag’s End, and there was no computer genius among his friends, nor did he have connections inside the police or the FBI who could help him with that.
Bob Dixon managed to get her phone number and called her multiple times a day, asking her to meet in person to talk. Allegra wasn’t having any of his bullshit and hung up on him the very first time he brought the subject up, in a demanding tone, no less.
If the incident involving the weird woman had happened before Bob Dixon contacted her for the first time, Allegra would have thought he had that lady borrow her phone just long enough to find out her number, but that wasn’t the case.
The lady almost knocked her over a few weeks after that rude man had contacted her.
Lost in her thoughts, Allegra didn’t notice she was only a few yards from her house. I must have been on autopilot. She shook her head in relief. It was time for a long bath and an even longer nap; everything and everyone else would have to wait. She smiled at the thought.
A few seconds later, her smile faded to a frown at the sight of the car parked right in front of the house. That’s strange, Allegra thought. Papa is the only one who parks there, but he was still at the office when I left. Besides, he didn’t tell me about a visit today, and he always does.
With those thoughts buzzing in her mind, Allegra walked into the house. At the sound of her heels on the entryway tiles, Betsy, the housekeeper, rushed to greet her. “Welcome home, Missus Kendrick. I’m so glad you came earlier; that guest of yours drove me crazy.” The woman rolled her eyes.
“Hello, Betsy. I’m glad I could get home earlier; I really needed this.” Allegra offered her employee a smile as she took off her coat. “What… guest?” she frowned again.
“The man sprawled across the big couch in the living room.” Betsy sighed, wringing her hands. “I made him two plates stacked high with sandwiches, and he asked for the second six-pack of beer.” She shook her head.
“What does this man look like?” Allegra asked, her blood half-frozen by a possibility she refused to entertain. “And don’t worry, I’ll deal with him.” Anger bubbled inside her, but she made a great effort to keep it in check. After all, the other woman wasn’t at fault at all.
“Partially bald and bulky, late thirties to early forties,” Betsy responded immediately. “Dressed like a hillbilly, not the type you'd normally invite here.” She pursed her lips in a mix of disgust and disapproval. “He asked for more food and drinks. What should I do?”
“Nothing. You are coming with me to take everything away.” With that, Allegra headed to the living room. “Party’s over. Betsy, will you please take the plate and the beers to the kitchen? Thank you.” She pointed toward the doorway. “And you, get the hell out of my house.”
“Easy, lady,” the man said in a nasal voice. “Is this how you treat your business partners? What would your boss do if he found out?” He grinned. “You look stressed. Maybe you forgot my name. Let me refresh your memory. Robert Dixon. You can call me Bob, like all my friends do.”
“I’m not friends with anyone who comes here uninvited and acts like they own the place.” Allegra pulled out her phone from her purse. “Get your obscene carcass out of my house, or I’ll call the police to arrest you for home invasion.”
“Easy, pretty lady,” Bob raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t barge into your house; that rat-faced woman let me in, so take it out on her. In fact, she’s not at fault at all. My wife did the same thing about six months ago, if you remember.”
Allegra let out a frustrated sigh and plopped onto the smaller couch. “What do you want? Make it quick. I have no time to waste with someone like you. And if it’s money…”
“Exactly. Money.” Bob approved with a nod. “But not yours. Mine. Here’s the whole twisted story…”
The man began telling his host about the unusual business proposal and the robbery that followed, unaware that someone on the other side of the door was listening to every word.
Shortly after he started the story, a silhouette in the darkness pulled the phone from the back pocket of their jeans and began recording the conversation.
The person lurking in the shadows was none other than Lincoln, who had heard his wife speaking louder than usual and had come to see what was causing such a change in Allegra’s predictable behavior.
The presence of that man in the living room was a serious disruption to their daily routine, and Lincoln wondered what had brought him there.
He felt no love, nor any similar emotion, for Allegra; he married her solely because someone very important to him, Chadwick, had ordered him to. This was part of a complex scheme to remove obstacles blocking his path to his father’s fortune.
Lincoln was a patient man, and when he entered Chadwick’s complicated game, he knew it would take time to reach a conclusion.
However, after thirteen years, his patience was wearing thin.
He was exhausted from being kept on a short leash and from being reminded by both his wife and his father-in-law, who held authority in their marriage.
Chadwick also grew increasingly irritated by the support the old man, whom he referred to as Umberto during his talks with Lincoln, was showing his daughter.
He was also annoyed by the recent attention he was giving to that little whore, Richard.
The two men had been seeking a way to neutralize one of them for quite some time, and this presented the ideal opportunity.
Lincoln discreetly withdrew to his room, avoiding the servants—carefully selected and generously paid by Allegra not only to perform their duties but also to monitor him.
With trembling hands, he retrieved his phone and quickly dialed Chadwick’s number.
After what felt like an eternity, the line finally answered.
“What’s so urgent that it can’t wait until tomorrow?” Chadwick’s voice was grumpy and hoarse. “You know this is the time for my afternoon nap, but do you fucking care? Of course not.”
“Sorry,” Lincoln replied in a meek, apologetic tone. “I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t really important.” He inhaled sharply. “I know how we can finally get free of the bitch’s control and get on top of the situation.”
Chadwick huffed in contempt. “Oh, really? Another of your bright ideas? Okay, let’s hear it, genius.”
Lincoln cleared his throat. “There is this guy, Bob Dixon, who came here and threatened Allegra, telling her to sell a story to the competition unless she gives him four million dollars.”
“Four…what?” The noises on the other end of the line showed Chadwick shifting in bed. “Oh wow, sissy dearest must have done something really, really bad this time. I’m listening. What’s the story?”
“Bob Dixon is the maternal uncle of Ottavio Sforza’s oldest child,” Lincoln started nervously.
“Apparently, Allegra paid him and his wife to file for custody of the child, and then his father bought his business for four times its value to make him drop the lawsuit. Anyway, he didn’t get to enjoy the money because someone robbed him. ”
Chadwick let out a loud laugh. “Let me guess: the guy thinks sissy dearest did it, which makes him even more stupid than you. She may be a controlling, manipulative bitch who sometimes bribes people into doing what she wants, but she was always a law-abiding citizen.”
Lincoln nodded in approval, though he knew the other man couldn’t see him.
“Exactly. And this is when we come into the picture, taking care of the problem and holding the bitch in our debt for the rest of her life.” He swallowed hard several times.
“I thought we could…um…use your contacts to take care of the job. I... I recorded their conversation. I’ll email it to you. ”
“Good boy.” The praise Lincoln craved came in a cold voice. “I’ll decide what to do after I listen to it. Wait for my message.”
Right after Chadwick hung up, Lincoln sent him the conversation, then lay on the bed, waiting for a sign from the man.
With his hands folded under his head, he silently cursed the day he first met that guy and fell for him like a schoolgirl.
Still, he enjoyed being roughed up and humiliated by him; in a strange way, it made him feel important and seen.
Lincoln sighed, wondering whether, once that Allegra bitch was out of the picture, Chadwick would marry him, as he’d promised all those years earlier when they hatched that plan.
He probably will, the man thought, because I’ll be a wealthy widower now, not the broke nobody I used to be when we first met.
Lincoln’s phone buzzed, and he checked the new message.
Chadwick was on his way to Lincoln’s house and told him to leave and wait for him down the road at the usual spot.
Twenty minutes later, the men were heading to the address Bob Dixon had dictated to Allegra as a no-excuse-not-to-be-there masked threat.
Chadwick parked the car at the end of the driveway and signaled to Lincoln, who was waiting for instructions, to get out and follow him. As they approached the house, their unease grew; they sensed something was terribly wrong deep inside.
The main door was wide open, confirming the men’s gut feeling.
They rushed inside, heading to the living room, where a blood-freezing scene greeted them.
On the couch, Bob Dixon sat, head tilted back, mouth agape, eyes wide with terror, blood seeping from the countless stab wounds littering his body.
Chadwick and Lincoln exchanged a terrified look. If that was Allegra’s doing—and they were sure it was—they’d better watch their backs and lie low. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.