Chapter 36
JOSEPH
I’m not sure it worked. Su Yin told me I must control my fear of open spaces.
Of being unprotected and learn to live like a normal man.
I doubt she realizes that nothing about my life is normal.
She encouraged me to take my wife and stroll in the park to prove that nothing bad would happen and there isn’t an assailant waiting around every corner.
To a degree it worked, but the minute the shadows danced in my mind, I panicked.
What if I fall for Tiffany? Let her into my heart as well as my world. What if someone takes her from me? It would kill me. I can’t form any other attachments, not ever, but there is something so nice about having Tiffany walking beside me. It’s a drug that I couldn’t give up if I tried.
For the first time, I have someone solely for myself. Sitting beside me, smiling when I walk into a room, sleeping gently against me. No murderous thoughts toward me in her head, no agenda and no fucks to give.
It’s refreshing, addictive, and yet frightening. What if, when this ends, she decides to walk away? Leaving me with our baby because she will never be allowed to take that.
With a sigh, I pour yet another bourbon into my glass, noting the tray of champagne that Mrs. Harrington arranged with some canapés to whet our appetites before dinner with my mother.
Tiffany heads into the library and, as always, she blows my mind. Tonight she is wearing an emerald green silk dress that matches her eyes perfectly. The heels match and her purse the same, and once again her chestnut-colored hair gleams against the light.
“Evening, husband.”
She smiles cheekily, lightening the atmosphere as she heads straight for the champagne. “You are looking particularly handsome tonight.”
“I look the same every night.” I remind her as I raise the glass to my lips.
“True, but a wife can compliment her husband on his choices, even if they remain the same, surely.”
“Of course she can.”
I love the easy familiarity we share, the way she teases me gently, unafraid of my response.
I’m aware life is difficult for Tiffany right now, and I am solely to blame for that, but it’s still strangely comforting that she is here at all.
Perhaps Su Yin is right. I have a wife now and I should learn how to use her for my benefit.
“Tell me about your mom.”
Tiffany drops down on the seat beside me, and I immediately reach for her hand.
“You will like her. She’s sweet, kind, and interested in just about anything anyone has to say. But don’t underestimate her. She’s a powerful bitch when she wants to be, and the term mama bear most certainly was contrived by her.”
“She fights for her kids.” Tiffany shrugs. “There’s nothing wrong with that. At least it restores my faith in mothers.”
“Talking of which, I have asked Spencer to arrange a visit with yours. I’m hoping for tomorrow.”
“Why so soon?”
I choose my words carefully.
“Because in a few days’ time we are leaving on a trip.”
“A business one?”
She cocks her head to one side.
“Of course.”
“Where?”
“Milan.”
“Why, what’s there?”
“An opportunity.”
I stand, and as I grip Tiffany’s hand tightly, I cut the conversation dead.
* * *
I saw her as soon as we walked into the Savoy Grill.
She has the best table, of course, and I don’t miss her usual guards taking virtually every other one.
This is typical Ravera behavior. We book out the room and fill it with our people, ensuring security is in place and that is always doubled for our mother.
She is the most protected person I know, and it’s down to the fact that my father couldn’t bear to be without her and likes to ensure she is safe when she is not at home.
Theirs is an all-consuming passion that is even more surprising when he has a mistress and has had for several years.
He explained to me once that taking a mistress is like pulling on a pair of muddy boots to protect your expensive shoes. He uses her for things he would never subject my mother to, and it kind of made sense at the time.
I’m not so sure now. Could I cheat on Tiffany, knowing how trusting she is? Would it carve me up on the inside when the light dimmed in her eyes because of me?
I don’t love her. I’m incapable of that, but I want her. Isn’t that enough?
I like the idea of the two of us against the world.
Shut inside my mansion in Belgravia, keeping the entire world out.
That is what I want. To live in my guarded prison with a woman like her.
Someone innocent, entertaining, and more beautiful than any of the precious art I have collected over the years.
“Joseph, my darling.”
She stands, the perfect motherly image of sophistication in her beige skirt and matching jacket, her blonde hair piled on top of her head, the pearls wrapped around her throat.
She kisses me and hugs me hard before turning to Tiffany.
“Darling girl, you made it.”
She pulls her in for a hug and whispers in her ear, causing a soft smile to light up Tiffany’s face.
“Come. Tell me what has happened since you met. I can’t wait to hear your story.”
“Can we order first?”
I point to the waiter, and he scoots forward as if he is on rails.
As we take our seats, he hovers beside the table, and as we order drinks, he nods respectfully before handing us each a menu.
We take a minute to make our choices, and as he walks away, Mom leans forward, her eyes sparkling with interest.
“So, I understand you are married already. I must say I’ve been denied three weddings now. I only have Nico’s wedding to compensate me for that.”
I turn to Tiffany and explain.
“Nico is my eldest brother. He decided to marry for love, against my parent’s wishes, and as it happens, Regina is the perfect addition to our family.”
She smiles politely, but I notice the light dim in her eyes as Mom adds quickly, “Your brothers appear very happy with your sisters, Tiffany. Alice and Rose are also the perfect additions to our family.”
“Are they okay?”
Tiffany speaks for the first time, and Mom nods, reassuring her with a soft smile.
“I have spent a lot of time with Rose. She is delightful and appears smitten with Julius, which of course is no mean undertaking. They work well together and I have never seen him so happy.”
“I wish I could see them.”
I interrupt.
“They will also be in Milan. You only have to wait a few days.”
“Really?”
Her eyes light up and Mom nods.
“Yes, they can’t wait. Alice is a darling, and Joseph’s brother Simeon is equally smitten with her. We all are.”
“They are easy to love.”
Tiffany smiles, but I detect the sadness in it.
Mom obviously notices it too and peers at me sharply.
“I hope you are treating Tiffany well, Joseph. I know how wrapped up you can be in business, and I must remind you that a wife requires love and attention.”
“I know how to treat my wife, Mom.” I say with exasperation, and Mom’s gaze turns to Tiffany.
“Is he right?”
Tiffany nods, gripping the champagne glass, and her words sound empty as she whispers, “I couldn’t ask for more.”
The expression in Mom’s eyes is questioning, and luckily the waiter reappears with our starter of oysters.
As Mom’s attention is diverted, Tiffany whispers, “I can’t eat these.”
“Why not?”
“I’m, um, well, allergic to seafood.”
Mom hears her and glances up with dismay.
“Oh my dear, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you know this already, Joseph?”
I think back on the prawn medley we devoured last night at dinner and throw Tiffany a pointed look, and she colors, saying quickly, “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”
I snap my fingers, and the waiter comes racing over.
“My wife wishes to place another order.”
He turns to her and she whispers, “Um, soup please.”
As he heads off, I grip her knee under the table, for some reason needing to reassure her that it’s okay.
Mom’s attention is firmly on her plate, and as I slip an oyster down my throat, I wonder what Tiffany is playing at.
The soup arrives almost instantly, and Tiffany also turns her attention to the dish.
Mom chats shit as she usually does, telling us tales of home and of the latest annoying thing my father has done.
It’s considered normal conversation for strangers, but it’s never business with mom and as she speaks, I wonder why her words appear faster than usual, as if she is covering something up.
We feast on beef Wellington for the main course, and I listen to their idle chatter as Mom quizzes Tiffany about life at Canton House.
I’m aware that she also went there along with Sister Agatha Maria, and at the mention of her old friend, Mom says gushingly, “Tell me how my dear friend is. I haven’t seen her for years. ”
“She’s good, thank you, Mrs. Ravera. She is the kindest woman I have ever met.”
“She is, most definitely.” Mom agrees, and I note her foot tapping under the table, courtesy of her reflection in the mirror behind her.
Mom is hiding something.
“Please excuse me.”
I push away from the table without offering any explanation, leaving the two women to chat and as I head out of the room, I note Spencer chatting with mom’s bodyguard, Pedro, a Spanish assassin who has worked for our family for as many years as I can remember.
At the sight of me, Spencer shifts off the bar and heads to my side, and we head out into the corridor.
I whisper, “I want the guest list of The Lancaster for last week until next week. Trace the names, discover their occupations, and search for any familiar faces or known persons of interest. Tap into the CCTV and question the staff. I want a full report by morning.”
He nods and I add, “Keep this to yourself, but ask a few guarded questions of Pedro, without alerting him in any way.”
“Consider it done.”
I disappear into the men’s restroom, and as I wash my hands, my mind races.
Mom, Sister Agatha, Serenity and the keys.
Morgan, Enrico, and the three sisters. The apparent suicides and the fact Tiffany’s mom fled, and who the fuck was the man in Morgan’s closet that day?
Malik and Eliza blend into the picture, and I wait for it all to fall into place because, as sure as I’m clinically deranged, they are all connected, and I intend on discovering why.