Chapter Three
‘I never asked you where you were planning on going after the funeral.’
Angelica didn’t turn around from the window where she was looking out at the view, which spanned from where they were in midtown Manhattan, all the way down to the One World Trade Center.
The Hudson River sparkled under the low autumnal sun. Flashes of gold and brown were visible here and there.
She didn’t respond to Leo’s remark, saying, ‘I assumed you’d be going to the apartment on the Upper East Side.’ It was where she’d spent a lot of time over the last three years and if Aldo said he was coming to New York she’d invariably find a reason to leave before he arrived.
‘I believe Aldo had it redecorated.’
Angelica shuddered delicately. He had, and it hadn’t been good. ‘You could say that.’
Leo’s tone was dry. ‘I can imagine exactly how he did it. Lots of gold and bling. It’ll be up for sale as soon as I can get it back into my name and on the market.’
Angelica glanced at him where he’d come to stand beside her at the window. This apartment was in a futuristically designed building, gleaming and soaring into the sky. She found she liked it better than the slightly stuffy atmosphere around Central Park. Even though she loved that park.
Curious, she asked, ‘How can you afford this now…? Isn’t everything still tied up in the company in Aldo’s name?’
He looked at her. ‘Your name.’
A reminder of her worth to him now. ‘Believe me, the sooner I can disentangle myself from what you rightfully own, the better.’
‘I’ll believe that when you have a piece of paper in front of you with your signature on it. You did warn me you wouldn’t make this easy.’
Yes, she had, but she hadn’t meant it like that. Angelica turned towards him, feeling injured, ‘You know I was never interested in anything like that.’
He raised a brow. ‘Do I? After you ran straight from me into Aldo’s bed?’
Angelica stifled her response. How could she deny how it looked?
It killed her that she couldn’t just blurt out the truth but she daredn’t.
There was too much at stake. Her mother and brother.
Awful things had happened to family members of people who’d ever had the misfortune of getting entangled with the Mafia in Sicily.
They were safe now but that could all change if Leo chose to use them as leverage as Aldo had.
The only reason she’d been relatively safe was because she’d got out early and had become an internationally recognisable face.
They didn’t need the kind of PR that would come from harming someone like her.
But her mother and brother were still at some level of risk.
As Aldo had proven only too effectively.
Leo continued, ‘My personal wealth and assets were frozen while I was in prison, which inadvertently helped me because all Aldo had access to was the business finances and any assets in the company name. Something to be grateful for. Needless to say I won’t be going into business with anyone else, ever again. ’
‘Not everyone is Aldo,’ Angelica pointed out.
‘I don’t care, I won’t take that risk.’
‘You knew him since you were kids, how did you not see that he was harbouring such resentment against you?’
Leo had told her of how, when he’d gone to the mainland to an orphanage run by a charity that specifically helped to remove children from the tentacles of Mafia gangs, he’d bonded with Aldo, who’d also come there in similar circumstances.
Leo looked away, out of the window. ‘It was the biggest mistake of my life, trusting that man.’
‘You loved him. He was like a brother.’
Leo looked at her again and she could see the bleakness in his expression. ‘My brothers were killed in front of me. Aldo was a leech who played the long game.’
Again Angelica had to curb her tongue. She’d heard Aldo drunkenly rant over and over again about how he and Leo had been equal until it had become clear that Leo was on a level that Aldo could never hope to achieve.
Jealousy and bitterness had eaten away at him until he’d masterminded Leo’s downfall, which had ultimately led to Aldo’s downfall too.
‘You haven’t answered me—where were you going after the funeral?’
Angelica said as carelessly as she could, ‘Spain.’
‘Why Spain?’
To reunite with her family. She shrugged one shoulder. ‘I’d booked a holiday for myself.’
He made a whistling sound. ‘Straight after your husband’s funeral? With no luggage? I don’t think so.’
Angelica looked at Leo and his eyes were dark, bottomless. He said, ‘Whoever your lover is, you cut off all contact now, understand? He’ll have you back soon enough, if he wants to wait around.’
She shouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t believe that she was telling the truth on the plane. The thought of a lover was laughable. It had taken all of her energy to deal with a petulant, immature, vengeful husband and try to keep her professional life afloat.
‘Believe what you want, Leo, I’m not going to waste my breath again.’
She was suddenly overcome with a wave of weariness. It had been a tumultuous day and she still wasn’t entirely sure if she was dreaming. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to get out of these clothes and wash and rest. It’s been a long day.’
Leo felt a trickle of discomfort when he had to acknowledge the air of fragility around Angelica that he’d noticed earlier, compounded now by shadows under her eyes.
He still couldn’t quite believe she was here, in front of him, wearing his ring. And still wearing the clothes she’d buried her husband in. Suddenly he wanted any association with Aldo Bianchi gone.
‘Fine, absolutely, make yourself at home.’
A glint of something like humour came into her eye. ‘Why, thank you, so considerate.’
It mocked Leo for letting his guard drop for a moment.
This woman wasn’t fragile, she was just human.
Aldo had died of an overdose, Leo had to assume that Angelica had partaken of that lifestyle too, even though when he’d known her, she’d been vehemently against drugs, and hadn’t even drunk that much.
She was turning away from him to leave the room but he caught her arm in his hand, relishing the feel of her toned muscles.
She looked up at him and he could see how she held herself tightly.
Tense. Which automatically made him want to move that hand from her arm to her waist, and put his other hand there and pull her into him until he could feel those womanly curves pressed against his body.
Angry with his wayward libido, he said more harshly than he intended, ‘If you’ve changed your habits to include taking recreational drugs like your husband, I won’t tolerate it.’
A flash of disgust came over her face before it was gone. She pulled her arm free and said with a mocking smile, ‘What a shame. If I’d known a coke habit would turn you off the marriage, I would have mentioned it a lot sooner.’
But then her smile faded and she was deadly serious. ‘I’ve never done drugs and I still don’t do drugs.’
She turned and walked out of the room, back straight, legs long. Hair like silk down her back. Regal, stunning.
Leo turned to face the view, tugging at his tie, staring out unseeingly. Once again he questioned his sanity but then he told himself again that he never would have found a woman willing to be his convenient wife with no strings attached. And Angelica owed him. Even she acknowledged that.
But the reality of following through on his plans, the reality of looking at her, smelling her scent, talking to her—convenience was the last thing on his mind.
It was a tangle of emotions and desires and the anger that had kept him going for the last three years.
He smiled mirthlessly. Yes, his anger at, and hatred for, Angelica Malgeri had actually helped him survive the last three years, because he’d pictured this very scenario.
Having her at his mercy. Aldo too, but Aldo had not afforded him that opportunity.
He cursed his introspection. He had to stop ruminating on the past and get on with rebuilding his future. With his new wife at his side.
Even though Angelica was exhausted, she couldn’t rest. She’d found what she assumed to be a guest suite, decorated in muted elegant tones with a luxurious cream carpet.
She’d taken off the funeral clothes and had a blissful shower, scrubbing every bit of the last three years from her body.
And now she was in a robe with her hair piled up turban-style on her head.
She’d come out onto the small terrace outside the bedroom and was taking in the view as dusk stole over the iconic skyline of Manhattan.
In spite of everything that had happened and the fact that within hours of burying her husband she was now married to her ex-lover, she couldn’t deny that she felt a measure of peace. The kind of peace that had been elusive for three years. Since Leo rejected you.
Even though she knew she couldn’t trust Leo, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
Life with Aldo and his moods and mercurial nature had kept her in a constant adrenalised state.
At least she’d been able to use her work as an excuse to stay away from him as much as possible and he’d never really objected because his ego had loved having a supermodel for a wife.
They were only seen together for public events, and as few of those as Angelica could get away with.
She’d had to fly back at short notice on a private jet from Bangkok to Rome in order to placate him when he’d had a tantrum that she wouldn’t be with him for an event.
But thankfully those incidents hadn’t been too common.
Aldo had never mentioned specifically what he’d do if he went after her mother and brother, the threat of any kind of harm to them had been enough.
She’d never been able to push things too far.