Epilogue Part Two
“Can I help you?” the host finally managed to ask.
Halfway to her destination, those deep brown eyes lifted, meeting hers, before flickering to something behind her. Or someone. The terrified host dogging her heels dropped back at the mere flick of the man’s finger.
She couldn’t help but chuckle at the effective display of power.
“Mario,” she said, pulling out a seat and plopping down. His eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people calling him anything other than Mr. DeLuca. But while he may wield a cloak of power, she preferred the cloak of surprise. Life was way more interesting if you kept people on their toes.
“Ms. Ewing,” he replied, his baritone voice sliding over her skin.
“Do you practice that?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to, but there’s very little I practice.”
She skimmed her gaze over him. Interestingly, she decided she believed him. Mario DeLuca was a sort of do-or-don’t-do kind of guy. Probably one of those babies that just got up and started walking one day.
Taking a picture from her pocket, she slid it across the table. Mario didn’t pick it up, but his gaze dropped.
“Anthony Ely,” she said.
“I’m familiar with his name. Read about his crimes in the paper, of course.”
“Of course. Did you hear he used to beat his wife, too?” Mario’s gaze came up.
“Nearly killed her when he found out she was pregnant. Beat her so badly she went into labor, then told her the baby died when she came to a week later.” The news had focused on Anthony’s murder-for-hire scheme, Amber’s lawyer and law enforcement agreeing to keep his crimes against her out of the papers for both Amber’s and Zoe’s sakes.
“He’s a lying sack of shit, of course, and the mother and daughter were recently reunited,” she added.
“He deserves to suffer for that,” Mario said, the only hint of emotion a single tic of his right eye. Toni knew better, though. Knew that Mario had led a brutal and bloody takeover of the family against his father after years of watching his mother suffer at his father’s hands.
“He does. He will. Prison is exactly what the man deserves. The humiliation, the violence, the brutality of it all.”
“Assuming the prosecution is successful.”
She inclined her head, then pulled a file out of her bag. “In case they aren’t, I thought you might find these interesting.”
Mario eyed her, then reached across the table, slid the folder closer, and opened it. His eyes scanned the top sheet. He wouldn’t need to see more than that to know what she’d brought him. Evidence of Anthony’s theft from the DeLuca family.
He closed the folder and looked up, interlacing his fingers on the table in front of him. “What do I owe you for this information?”
Toni smiled. “Nothing. Just thought you’d want to know. You know, in case the prosecution falls apart and he gets off. Unlikely, given the case against him, but just in case.”
Dark eyes held hers. A beat later, he nodded in understanding. “Thank you.”
She flashed him a smile as she rose. A big smile.
His eyes narrowed again. She laughed. He may have power and money, and questionable morals, but she enjoyed life.
Maybe she shouldn’t have rubbed it in his face, but she didn’t have the willpower, or interest, in resisting.
That austere, unflinching expression goaded her.
“Have a good lunch, Mario,” she said, turning and walking away.
“Next time you join me, Ms. Ewing, dress more appropriately.”
She didn’t bother turning around, just flipped him off over her shoulder.
Two steps later, she swore she heard the faint rumblings of a chuckle.