Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Joseph
Roman wasted no time commandeering everyone out of Milan and back to the estate. He and Dante remained behind to investigate whether Greta’s death was connected to the Caponelli family.
Arlo had sent a couple guys to her place to make sure everything was okay. It wasn’t.
They alerted a friend of Dante’s at the Milan Police Force. Officer Andre Gambini was currently at the crime scene waiting for them. It was a race against time. Gambini gave them thirty minutes to check out the place before he’d have to call it in. Then the place would be swarming with cops. The streets were a blur as they raced to her apartment.
“Have any guesses on what happened?” Joseph stared out the window. His muscles were tight. They wouldn’t relax until he received the all clear when everyone had made it back safely.
“No. But from what the guy said there was a struggle. Looks like murder. Intentionally or accidental, who knows.” Dante maneuvered the car through the insane Milan traffic with ease.
Jospeh briefly closed his eyes. A vision in red flashed before his eyes. Angelina was supposed to be wearing a wedding gown. He’d convinced himself he didn’t need to see her dressed as a glowing bride, all pure and in love when they were still at odds. Yet, he couldn’t miss her big moment. The thought of her walking down the aisle to marry someone else would be like a knife to his heart.
The last thing he expected was the sexy woman in red. One with a killer body permanently imprinted in his mind and sure to be haunting his dreams. Fuck! Those legs were a mile long. He took a deep breath, counted to ten, and let out a deep sigh.
“Help me find the turn, I’m not familiar with this area.” Dante leaned forward to search for street signs.
“Take the next right.” Joseph pointed. “Is Andre’s car unmarked?”
“I guess we’ll find out.” After taking the turn, and going several blocks farther, they spotted a police car.
“Park up the next block,” Joseph ordered.
Dante did as told. Taking a quick canvass of the area, and keeping their guns hidden but in easy reach, they hurried to Greta’s flat on the second floor of a brick apartment building.
“Andre?” Dante knocked but stayed to the side of the door.
“Stay there.” A man with a deep Italian accent answered from inside the opened the door. “Put these on.” He handed them each a pair of paper booties, gloves, and a hair net. “The last thing I need is your DNA at a crime scene.”
After doing as told, they entered the apartment. It was small. The first room was an open concept kitchen, living area, and dining room. The rest of the place was most likely a bedroom and bath. “What do you think?” Dante asked as he trailed behind the officer.
“There was no forced entry, so she either left the door unlocked or knew the person.” Andre stopped and pointed toward the pristine door.
“Our men stated it wasn’t locked when they got here.” Joseph studied the place. Several photos of Greta and her modeling comp cards littered the top of a coffee table and the dirty carpet below. Clothes were draped over every chair. Empty bottles of booze were scattered across the floor. Neatness was obviously not a part of her vocabulary. Dante was chatting in Italian with Andre in the bedroom while Joseph searched the rest of the apartment for anything out of the ordinary.
A pack of cigarettes and a lighter sat near an ashtray on the kitchen counter. Each of the numerous butts were decorated with a coral-colored lipstick. Nearby, mail was piled a couple inches high. Greta apparently wasn’t too concerned about lighting the place on fire.
Carefully leafing through the stack, he found numerous bills which had never been opened, an unopened, padded envelope from a jewelry store, and more fashion magazines. It appeared the young model was living beyond her means, and bill collectors were about to come knocking on her door, if they hadn’t already.
Joseph opened the fridge. A few bottles of cheap wine, some moldy Brie, and a carton of Chinese takeout. If someone hadn’t killed her, it was a good chance eventually lung cancer, poor diet, or alcoholism would have.
“Joseph.” Dante hollered from the other room. “We don’t have much time. I need a second set of eyes.”
The rotting odor of death hit him as soon as Joseph entered the room. Whereas the other room was messy, this one was destroyed. Broken glass, furniture knocked over, and curtains torn from the rods. A fight to the death had taken place, and Greta had lost. She wore a silky, short nightie with one of the straps broken and hanging down her side. Bruises had formed on her legs, arms, and around her throat.
Even with the light on, Andre used his flashlight to point out the broken nails and blood on her fingers. At least she had gotten some good scratches in.
“We should be able to scrape some cells from under her nails and hopefully get a match if they’re in the system.”
“Strangled?” Joseph guessed out loud. The room was too small to add another person so he had to stay by the doorway limiting his view.
“Either that or the hit to the head.” Dante leaned closer to study her face and shoulders. “Definite finger marks on her throat, but there’s blood on the floor where she lay. What happened to you sweetheart?” Dante gently touched the back of her skull.
“The dead never tell us anything.” Andre glanced at his watch. “My shift ends soon. I have to report this soon or I’ll be doing paperwork all night.”
“How are you going to play it?” Joseph glanced into the bathroom untouched by the violence.
“Simple. I got a call from her agency saying she never showed up for the show, and I did a welfare check.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Joseph started toward the door.
“I owe you one, Andre.” Dante carefully maneuvered himself out of the tiny room.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you know if we find anything useful here or after the autopsy.” The officer reached for his phone.
Joseph nodded. “Thanks again, man.” Joseph nodded.
After making sure the coast was clear, Joseph and Dante exited the room, removed the personal protective gear, and shoved them in their pockets. It was too bad the Scarlatti family wasn’t here. They could find a needle in a haystack.
Dominic had been the family’s cleaner for years and had passed his knowledge and attention to detail on to his kids. Although if Gabriel had been in the show, he’d have stayed with the rest of the family.
“Let’s get the hell out of here. I have a bad feeling about this.” Dante shuffled down the stairs.
“You and me both.”
Joseph took a deep breath and stretched the back of his neck when they finally drove into their territory. The past few hours had been stressful. Especially since he’d found out his mother and father were still in Milan. Madison refused to leave until after the press conference and everything was taken care of. It was a good bet his father was livid. There was no way he’d go anywhere without her, so he and a few of his men stayed behind while Arlo and his staff moved everyone safely on their way. Chances were good the model’s death had nothing to do with them, but it could also have been a warning.
“You’ve been quiet.” Dante broke the silence.
“Just thinking. The things we do for women. We could be back home if it weren’t for my mom’s fashion house.”
“Ha. Just wait until you find the right one. You’ll be doing stupid shit to make her happy too. What’s the saying, happy wife, happy life?”
“Yeah, whatever.” The landscape passed in a flash as they sped along the highway.
“How are things with your father?” Dante gave him a quick glance.
“What do you mean?” They got along fine.
“They’re rumors that you’re not next in line.”
“I’m the oldest and Roman has never said otherwise. My brothers have never wanted it any other way either.” At least Joseph hoped it was so.
“Your brothers are still young. Have you ever done a DNA test? The senior members of the family only want a true bloodline. You could be Russian for all we know.” Dante flashed him a crooked smile. “I’m just saying.”
“You know we don’t want our DNA in any database. My father is the Don. What he says goes.”
“And what do you want to do?” Dante wouldn’t give up.
“To be perfectly honest, I really don’t know.” Angelina’s face popped into his mind. “It’s always been expected that I’d someday take over the family. I’ve not thought about any other options.” What would he do?
“Well, you’ve certainly been groomed for it as well as the other businesses your family has.”
“Exactly. It’s why I’m here and not at home right now.” Seeing Angelina again brought forth strong feelings he hadn’t expected.
“Yeah, you have to find out what it’s like to be led around by your dick.” Dante burst into laughter. “A fucking fashion show and chasing after dead models.”
“Whatever. We can joke about my mother’s fashion house all day, but it makes millions. It’s a legit, money-making business.” His heart swelled at her success. But then Madison seemed to excel at whatever she chose to do. Joseph’s parents were true partners in everything. Would he ever have the same kind of relationship? Angelina’s last few years had been endless wandering. If the rumors were true about him not being next in line, and if she didn’t get the job, they’d both be out of luck.
Turning his attention to the scenery again, he pondered his role in the family. Even though Roman and Madison were his parents in every way that mattered, he’d always wondered if he had family elsewhere. They’d never treated him any differently from his siblings, and he certainly didn’t want to suggest otherwise. It was simply a feeling his purpose might lie elsewhere.
During his school years in Italy, he’d fit in like he had been born there. People even thought he was a native, not an American studying abroad. Resting his elbow on the arm rest, the scene of the crime resurfaced.
“What do you think happened to Greta?” Joseph couldn’t let it go.
Dante glanced his way. “Who knows? Wrong place at the wrong time?”
“Why trash the place?” That seemed personal.
“Robbery?” Dante suggested.
“She didn’t appear to have anything worth selling.” Along with the autopsy report, he’d get a detailed listing of everything in her flat.
“Drugs? Boyfriend troubles?”
Joseph shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out from the autopsy report, but I doubt Madison would hire anyone with those types of issues.” Employees hired by the family were screened with a fine-tooth comb. The last thing they wanted was to get the law involved because an employee had a drug problem.
They finally pulled up to the compound gate and the guard waved them though. Dante yawned. “Fuck, I’m tired.” Surveillance was hard work both physically and mentally. If one tiny detail were missed, someone could end up dead.
“Yeah, me too. I’m going to take a shower and see you when the others get here.” The smell of death still lingered in Joseph’s nostrils.
“How soon before they get here?”
Joseph’s phone buzzed. They were on their way. “Barring any issues, a couple of hours.”
Joseph closed his eyes as hot water eased the soreness from his body. If only the shower could wash away the tensions of the day. He could deal with the death of Greta. She was a stranger, but Angelina was another story. Seeing her again released an avalanche of emotions. Happy, sad, anger, and lust. She was sixty shades of sin in her red dress!
It took everything he had to not storm down the runway and throw her over his shoulder caveman style to shield her from the leering eyes of every man in the room. Then again, maybe it was only him ogling her?
Just thinking about her made him hard. Joseph braced one hand on the wall and stroked himself. Those lips, those legs, Angelina was heaven and hell all in one.
The bathroom door flew open. Angelina gasped and stared. Her eyes wide before she turned and fled.
“What the fuck, Angelina.” He jumped from the shower and raced after her. Catching her arm, he stopped her from escaping to her room. Joseph pressed her against the wall. His wet body soaking hers, he rested his hand around her throat and caressed his thumb against her erratic pulse.
“Speak, Angel.” God, she felt good.
“I’m not your Angel.” Her face was flushed.
“That’s what you think.” It finally dawned on him she was wearing only a robe. Judging from her full breasts pressed up against his chest, nothing else. “You were planning on taking a shower with me from the looks of it. I like the idea.”
“You were in my shower.” Her jaw was clenched.
With everything going on, it’d slipped his mind they’d shared a bathroom.
“Sorry, I’ve always stayed on the main floor.” He reluctantly stepped back. Her gaze dropped to his erection. It was even harder after being flushed up against her luscious curves.
“Yeah, right. Well, finish what you were doing.” Her face was flame red as she waved her hands in the direction of his dick. “Or not and get out.”
“You could come and help me. It’s been a very, very hard day.” He teased her as Angelina licked her lips. Was she considering?
“Go to hell, Joseph.” She pushed him into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Smirking, he’d let her shove him away. Angelina said no but based on the way her eyes seemed to admire his body, everything else screamed yes.
So much time lost between them. They had been so close. One would even say they’d once been in love. She’d chosen him for her sweet sixteen dance. It was a big thing in their family, and couples often ended up married. He’d been her first kiss, and they’d planned for more. Then they’d been pulled apart.
Stepping into the shower, he continued with what he started. Imagining her with him, willing, able, and loving everything he did to her.
Angelina was always meant to be his. At one time, Joseph envisioned marrying her when they were older but then things changed. Everything changed. They’d gotten off course. But they were adults now. Not kids trying to find their own way in life with their parents calling the shots. Determination spiked. She was his angel and nothing, or no one, would stop him from making Angelina his woman, including her.