“What happened?” he asked tersely.
More sobbing.
“Shut the fuck up and tell me what happened,” he commanded.
“He fell over the cliff. He just fell. He was drinking wine. I found the bottle by the cliff. His body was on the rocks, but it went out to sea. I don’t know if I can get him back to bury him…” She sobbed more.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can make it.” He snapped the cell shut. He didn’t want to hear her crying, not when he wanted to dance around the room. He raised his voice. “Arturo. With me.” When Giacinta was in town, he usually left Arturo behind, but he’d forced him to come to his home because Angeline complained about him not having a bodyguard. And he knew the widow would call…
Arturo would be glad when it was over. He hated going back and forth between the towns when Luigi had to play sick. He had an aversion to Angeline. Luigi smiled again. He was a master at manipulation. Angeline’s sons regarded her as unimportant, an idiot they all put up with. They even felt sorry for their father for having to put up with her. Over the years he’d even managed to subtly turn her father and brother against her. They didn’t realize, but they began to treat her as if she didn’t have a brain too. She had retreated more and more into her world of shopping, which only gave him more ammunition. When she was gone, his boys would accept her passing quickly.
He stuck his head in the dining room. “This is important. I’ll be gone for a couple of days. Look after your mother, boys.” He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “Go get that diamond bracelet you wanted, Angeline.”
She looked up, her face lighting up. A smile curved her mouth and her gaze clung to his. He was very, very good at push and pull. Push her away and pull her back. She fell for it every time.
“Do you mean it, Luigi? Are you certain?”
He softened his expression, nodding. “Yeah, baby. I’m sorry I have to be gone so much, but the boys look after you properly, don’t they?”
She didn’t dare say otherwise. She nodded her head vigorously. He blew her a kiss, already anticipating the evening. He would go see the lovely widow, take care of business, retreat to his wing of his other home, stay a day and then recover enough to see Lissa and give her the last and final assignment – the one that would make him boss of both families.
The elation was so strong he thought his heart might burst out of his chest. He’d begun planning when his brother ascended to the Abbracciabene throne. Marcello might have been older, but Luigi should have been the natural successor. He was very, very good at what he did. That was when the plan had come to him.
He stared out the window as the car sped toward the town Cosmos resided in. It was nearly an hour away. He had plenty of time to anticipate what the good widow would be doing for him and all the money he’d make off of her after. Seventeen years of waiting was coming to an end, and the nearly euphoric feeling was almost better than when he was finally told his brother and sister-in-law were dead.
He really wanted to go see Aldo before he sent his best weapon after him. Smug, little Aldo who ruled his empire and treated Luigi as a poor relation. Luigi shook his head, a small smirk playing around his mouth. He could see his reflection in the window now. He was young enough to rule both empires for a very long time. He would have it all. Power. Wealth. Women. He enjoyed playing chess with other people’s lives. And he’d won. He’d nearly toppled the king. It was his own little pawn that was going to take that king down.
He burst out laughing. “We’re so close, Arturo.”
“You got that right, boss,” Arturo said, elation in his voice as well. “She came through again, didn’t she? She always does.”
The smile faded from Luigi’s face. It wasn’t that he had affection for Lissa. He didn’t feel emotions like affection, but he definitely regretted having to kill her. He’d sent her to the States to get her away from him. She was too damned intelligent to keep around on a daily basis. She would have figured the entire plan out by now had he allowed her to stay close.
Angeline had been with him seventeen years and she hadn’t figured out a damn thing. Not. One. Damn. Thing. She believed he loved her. He gave a little snort of derision. He despised the bitch. She claimed to love him, but she didn’t know the first thing about him and she sure as hell didn’t do anything to show him. She hated him touching her. She found sex too messy. She lay under him, the only position she’d go for, completely unmoving while he rutted like an animal. It was never fun, and she always had a look of distaste on her face afterward.