Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Angelo
Satisfied that Bennett’s murder has been tied up with a nice and neat little bow, I flip off the local news. My phone rings, and I answer the call from my broker.
“Mr. Calvani, I’ve been trying to reach you about the Hotel D’Amico property. It seems we’re late to the party.”
“What do you mean?”
“The property was on the brink of foreclosure.”
“Foreclosure?” That makes zero sense; my former capo, Michele, was paid handsomely.
“Apparently, Mr. D’Amico had the property cross-collateralized within an inch of its life.”
“For what purpose?”
“That, I’m not privy to. We could’ve snatched it up for a song in a bankruptcy sale, but it didn’t get that far. His widow, Mrs. D’Amico, recently sold the hotel to get out from under the debt.”
“And the buyer?”
“Fox Investment Group.”
“Never heard of them.”
“Me neither. But I did some digging. The registered agent is a small beans attorney. I’ve reached out to him expressing your interest in acquiring the property.”
“And?”
“He asked for twenty million over fair market value.” She scoffs.
“Put in an offer in writing for that amount, sent over immediately.”
“But Mr. Calvani, I must advise against such a deal. The property is nowhere near that valuation.”
Ah, but to me it’s invaluable. “Make the offer.”
“Right away, sir.”
Ending the call, I tap my fingers on the back of the couch before calling Nic. “Boss.”
“Have you heard any rumors about Michele being in financial trouble prior to his death?”
“It was an open secret that he loved skiing with the girls, if you get my drift, but I never heard anything about financial trouble.”
“When you audited the books from the hotel, was everything in order?” I press.
“Yeah, it was all in order. Why?”
“I don’t know, exactly.” My phone buzzes with an incoming call, and I see it’s the mayor’s office. “Nic, do some digging and get back to me.”
Ending the call, I answer the incoming one. “This is Mr. Calvani.”
“Mr. Calvani, Mayor Morrissey here. I wanted to personally thank you for lunch. That was a kind gesture.”
“Of course,” I say.
“As for your letter, I appreciate the sentiment. But I’m going to need a bigger mea culpa . One hundred grand a month is now the asking price.”
“Not a problem,” I say, envisioning gutting this man like a fish.
“And since a little birdie told me certain services are no longer being provided at Hotel D’Amico, I’m going to need girls sent to my apartment on a weekly basis.” He rattles off the address, and I commit it to memory. “This is the first girl I want. I’m sending you her picture now.”
A photo comes through, and I nearly crack the phone screen: it’s the mayor and Remi on stage.
“No clue who she is, but you’re a man with resources. I’m sure you can find her.”
“I’ll put every good man I have on it,” I lie.
“Outstanding. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Calvani.”
And I look forward to destroying you, Mayor Morrissey.
Remi
“Relax and think. Or Panic and sink. Your choice.” Maks says, towing me to the ladder.
“I choose a break from your maxims,” I inform him, pulling myself out of the deep end and plopping down on the nearest lounge chair to catch my breath.
“Intellectually, you get it,” Alessandra encourages me, pulling herself up and taking a seat on the ledge. “If you could just relax, your body knows what to do.”
Maks climbs out of the pool and marches over to me, knocking my lounge chair from seated to horizontal position.
“Hey!” I cry.
“When you are lying on this chair, are you tensing your body?”
“With you yapping in my ear and blocking the sun, yes.”
“Fighting against the chair?” he continues. “Making yourself as heavy as possible in the chair?”
“No, but?—”
“It’s no different lying on top of the water.”
“If you tell me to become one with the water, I quit.”
“Get up. I want you in the pool and lying on a float.”
“You want me practicing lying on a float?” I repeat skeptically.
“At this point, yes.”
“Why can’t we switch over to swimming strokes?” I argue. Anything other than more of this.
“You must learn to crawl before you learn to walk. Go relax on the float.”
“Fine,” I say, sitting up. “But only if you get me one of those fruity little umbrella drinks.”
“Very well,” Maks says, taking off toward the pool house.
“I was just kidding,” I mutter, walking toward the pool.
“Ahhh!!!!!”
And into the water I go.
“I hate you!” I shriek upon surfacing.
Alessandra tosses a ring in my direction, and I grab it. “You hate Maks more than you hate the water. There might be a method to his madness,” she decides.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been giving you enough attention.” I shift the leash from my left hand to my right. “In my defense, I’ve got a lot going on. Mainly just trying to stay alive.”
Nola ignores me as we stroll around the property, me being hyper vigilant in avoiding any body of water.
“But that isn’t an excuse, and I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Now, could you please stop breaking things? Corinne is getting pissy, and there are only so many places I can hide priceless broken vases. ‘Vases’ or is it pronounced ‘vahzes?’ I’m not sure.”
She doesn’t comment.
“You know who would know? Laurie, the Queen of Carnival.” Curious after Angelo told me there was a queen, I looked it up online, and lo and behold, it’s the turkey trotting queen herself.
“This has been fun—most of it, except for the waterboarding—but we need to keep one foot out the door.” My poor little heart can’t seem to match my bravado, but fake it till you make it, I always say.
Actually, I’ve never said that phrase my entire life, but it’s something I probably should say… .
Nola meows .
“Oh, now you’re speaking to me?”
We return inside and to the guest room, to find it empty. There’s a note on the bed, and I pick up the now familiar stationery.
Your things have been moved to our room.
“That heavy hand again.” I march to Angelo’s room, opening the door to find another note on the bed, along with a dress and heels, a masquerade mask, and a single red carnation.
Remi,
Join me this evening for dinner in the courtyard. So there is no room for misunderstanding, this is a date.
~ Angelo
“See, this is exactly my point. He keeps doing swoony things like this! Is swoony even a word? Well, it is now!”
Nola hops on the bed, watching me pace.
“Well, of course I’m going.” I sigh, grabbing the dress.
Because I can’t seem to stop myself from getting my heart broken.