Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Yes?” a muffled voice says.
“I’ve got Lucy Marino and Kennedy—” He glances back at her, frowning.
“Walsh,” she whispers.
“And Kennedy Walsh.” He clears his throat. “Here to see—”
“Come in.” The gate buzzes and pulls aside.
“Well, fuck,” Vinny whispers as we roll up a long, twisting driveway to a massive manor home surrounded by pristine trees, manicured bushes, and expensively arranged local flowers.
“You can stay out here,” I tell him when he parks in front of the house.
“I’m supposed to guard you,” he says nervously. “We’ve got that other car nearby—”
“We’ll be fine.” I push open the door and get out. “I’ll shout if I need help.”
“Don’t worry, Vinny, I got her.” Kennedy grins at him.
He’s not happy, but what can he do? I’ve found that I get certain liberties as the Don’s wife.
The front doors open as we approach. I expect a member of the staff, but instead, Charlie Westbrook herself is there to greet us.
“Hello, Lucille,” she says, beaming at me. She’s small, brunette, very pretty with big eyes and thick hair. She’s always dressed perfectly, right now in black slacks and a silky blouse, everything fashionably large. She doesn’t offer a hug or a handshake, which I like. She doesn’t pretend as though we’re friends since we never were. She didn’t abandon me back in the day, but she also didn’t try to bridge the void.
“Thanks for meeting with us, Charlie. This is my friend, Kennedy.”
“Nice to meet you.” Charlie turns and gestures for us to follow. “I don’t have long, I’m afraid. Riding lessons soon.” She chats about her horses as we head into a massive and richly decorated home.
Kennedy gapes around, clearly at a loss. I don’t blame her. Even I’m impressed by the Westbrook family’s opulence. They’re one of the oldest families in the region and definitely the richest. Charlie’s great-great-grandfather started one of the original investment vehicles in the city, and they’ve been managing huge chunks of Philly’s wealth ever since. They’re connected in every way that matters and deeply respected.
We end up in a sitting room. Tea is already served. I can tell Charlie doesn’t want to linger, but she’s doing a nice job of keeping up a friendly facade. We all sit, and she gamely pours our cups. I make a show of adding honey and lemon to mine while Kennedy asks polite questions about the house.
“Oh, you know, it’s just a big old place with too many rooms. My parents filled it up with antiques, and I swear the spider population is absolutely thriving.” She’s the kind of rich person who has no need to flaunt her wealth. I almost like her for it. But then she leans back in her chair and crosses her legs, her eyes sliding over to me, her smile fading. “I suppose we should get down to it.”
“I assume you heard about the accident.” I remain sitting stiffly on the edge of my couch.
“I did. Such a shame. Richard was a friend of my father’s.”
“He was a friend of a lot of people.” I arch my eyebrows at her. “Did you like him?”
“Not at all. He was a fucking perv. And his wife’s not much better.”
I try not to smile at that. “Then you’re not exactly mourning.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way, no.”
“Good.” I sip my tea. “Then we can talk.”
Charlie considers me. Her lips press together for a moment. “I’ll admit, when I heard you married Adriano Marino, I thought it was a joke. I mean, no offense, but it doesn’t feel like the most logical match. And now I wonder. You’re more of a player than you let on.”
“Lucy’s involved in the business,” Kennedy announces. I flush slightly and keep my heart rate under control. “From what I understand, you are too.”
“And how are you involved in all this, exactly?” Charlie asks, eyebrows raised.
“I’m Lucy’s personal secretary.” Kennedy’s smile is dagger sharp. “You have a lot of lovely art in this place, you know.”
Charlie’s head tilts. She considers that for a moment, and I wonder if she hears the threat. I didn’t know Kennedy could be such a bad bitch, but I love her for it.
I step in, playing good cop. “We want to negotiate. I know things have been difficult lately. My husband’s feud with Gray Wolf has been spilling out all over the place, and everyone’s suffering. We want to put an end to it.”
Charlie scowls at me. “Why do you think I can do anything about that?”
“You have your grandfather’s ear.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Come on, we all know the truth. You’re in line to inherit. That old man adores you. He’ll listen.”
“And what, exactly, would he listen to?”
I glance at Kennedy. She gives me a short, subtle nod, her face stony and serious. That little encouragement is enough to keep me going.
“When the dust settles, all that lost artwork is going to pay out. Insurance will cover it all and then some. Nobody will be left behind. My husband will make sure of that.”