The Claim

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Copyright © 2011 by Billy London All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright. This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. Published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC PO Box 61 Colfax, NC 27235 www.beautifultroublepublishing.com Cover Art: Les Byerley, http://www.les3photo8.com/ Editor: Stephanie Parent Proofreader: Novellette Whyte http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/ Formatting: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/ E-book conversions: Jim & Zetta http://www.jimandzetta.com/ ISBN: (e-book) 978-1-61788-241-8; (print) 978-1-61788-242-5

For Jayha and The Jeanie for getting behind this Knight and kicking the others down the list. For my friends who have wiped out my disappointments with their shoulders, their laughter and a martini. For my godfather, who taught me that there are true gentlemen in the world. I will miss you forever and a day.

eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

A Tweet Moment: (phrase) homage to author Dréa Riley, singer Tweet and her song “Oops (Oh My)” and having alone time to pleasure oneself. Bedda: (noun) Sicilian dialect for beautiful. Blind arse mick: (phrase) (colloquialism) to take liberties Blouse and skirt: (phrase) a Jamaican phrase commonly used as a mild expletive such as ‘oh shit’ Fetuso: (noun) Sicilian dialect for motherfucker. Gurn: (verb) to make a face associated with one who is typically under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Michia: (noun) Sicilian dialect for cock. Off licence: (noun) a shop permitted to sell alcoholic drinks for consumption elsewhere. Picciottu: (noun) Sicilian dialect for boy. PACE: (legislation) Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984. Tempesta: (noun) Sicilian dialect for storm.

Once upon a time, long, long ago, Rocco Mamione thought he was going to marry the most beautiful princess in the land. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know or that his family had no idea just how serious he was. All he could see was a bright and beautiful future with his princess. And he could not wait for it to start. Rocco envisioned that he and the princess would storm the legal world and together become an invincible force of justice. Sadly for Rocco, this was not to be. The princess was to suffer a spell of deceit, and his father was to be plagued by a spell of betrayal. A keep of dragons prevented Rocco from lifting the spell from either his princess or his father, and he lost them both. Time passed for Rocco in a mire of sadness, stoned in behind an ice-cool facade. He studied. He learned. He gathered knowledge of such power that his name was whispered before he arrived anywhere of import. As he aged, he watched as those closest to him found their happiness. Friends who had waited for their true love. Friends who had played the jester and found the one person who appreciated their

precarious balance of festivity and downright rudeness. One development that particularly stung was that Massimo Da Canaveze was on his second marriage, and Rocco was yet to enter into a single relationship of importance. By “importance,” Rocco meant one that truly matched the love he’d had for his princess. The love he still had for her. It came to be that Rocco was compelled to challenge the keep of dragons and rescue his princess, because goddammit, Rocco was fucking tired of being by himself.

Just let me get to the office without anyone interrupting T.I. in the middle of his flow. Anna increased the volume on her iPod even as she caught sight of a colleague out of the corner of her eye. She had no desire to talk to anyone, not this early in the morning. This was her quiet time, before the madness and chaos and the “why wasn’t this done already?” began. “Good morning, Ms. Taylor.” Anna heard him during a dip in the music. With a resigned sigh, she turned off the iPod. “Morning.” “’Citing, isn’t it?” Anna glanced over. “What is?” “Charles finally landed that lawyer he’s been after for ages. He’s announcing it today. His secretary sent me a text about a half hour ago.” Rolling her eyes, Anna pushed through the heavy glass doors of the office. “Great.” Charles Piper, senior partner extraordinaire, was always after whatever new bit of legal flesh would bring money, notoriety and again more money. She flashed her ID badge at security and jumped into the first available elevator before Dingbat could 10

join her. Really. Announcing a new solicitor. Who did that? When she received her partnership, it was announced via e-mail. Yes, she’d received flowers and whatnot for climbing to the top faster than a rat in high water—not her words—but what could be so special about this new solicitor that it warranted interrupting a hazelnut latte and deleting unnecessary e-mails? Everyone was gathered in the large foyer, half the firm seated. Tall enough to see over people’s heads, Anna took an involuntary step backwards at who was standing next to Charles and trod on Dingbat’s foot. “So sorry, Ms. Taylor.” “Quiet,” Anna snapped, rage bubbling in her chest. What. The. Fuck. Was. This? If Anna managed to swallow her own saliva right now, it would be hailed as a medical marvel. “Good morning, everyone!” Charles clapped his age-spotted hands for attention. Anna would admit the man was savvy, even that she liked him on occasion, but he was still a money-hungry old goat and this, this decision of utter madness, just proved it. “Sorry for the brief notice, but it’s news too good not to share on a wonderful morning such as this. Finally, 11

after much courting—the likes of which I haven’t done since Mrs. Piper agreed to be my wife—Rocco Mamione is officially a partner of Piper & Co. today.” Anna flicked her music back on, drowning out the surprised cheers, and turned away to her office. She didn’t need to hear applause or any more arse kissing—she was done. Options started flicking through her head. Harrow Juniors wanted her to build an employment law department. She’d been speaking to the dean of her old university about perhaps taking up a position as a lecturer. Then she stopped herself. Fuck that, she had worked hard to get to where she was now, why walk out? I’ll give you one guess, her brain mutinied. It was bound to happen. Regardless of how many lawyers could fill the bottom of the Atlantic, the legal world was a small one. Too small. She switched on her coffee machine and took out the milk, methodically discarding her coat, putting her bag on the nearest chair and turning on her computer. Calm down, she told herself, pulling the buds from her ears. It’s not that bad. Her secretary burst into her office, a huge grin on her face. “We’ve got Satan’s lawyer! Isn’t that amazing?” 12

“You tell that to God on Judgement Day,” Anna drawled. “He’s gorgeous! I can imagine him working out with dumbbells, in a wife beater and sweat pouring down that chest every morning before he suits up.” “Fascinating. Can you grab the Martins Ltd. file for me? The director’s coming here in about twenty minutes, and I want to remind myself that there’s a point to this work.” Her secretary frowned. “You never look a gift eye-candy horse in the mouth. What’s your deal with him?” “No deal. I just don’t like anyone who pays their way into a job.” “Because you didn’t?” Anna smirked. “Ask Kate. She sees more of Charles’ money than Charles does himself. She’d know if I’d paid a penny to that man for this job.” “Sorry, Anna—” “File, please. Time is of the essence and all.” Her secretary turned out sharpish. Anna sat down and ran the tips of her fingers over her desk, trying to move the trembling out of her system. Calm down. Saying that is not working. 13

Try it and it might, you stubborn cow. Anna breathed out slowly once, opened her eyes and looked at her screen. The first e-mail that flashed up was Meeting with New Partner. Anna, Rocco wants to work with you on a particular project. Very high profile. Lots of mullah. Can we three meet about it later today? Bernie told me you have a free slot at lunchtime. Best wishes Charles She fired one straight back. No lunch today, Charles. And I’m to capacity at the moment. “Doesn’t look like it,” Charles said lightly, coming to sit opposite her, tapping at his phone. Goddamn smartphones. They entirely ruined the premise of a decent lie. “I’ve got too much work on. I’m sure Mr. Mamione has more than enough contacts to get a file turned over. He doesn’t need my help.” 14

“It’s sensitive.” “And I should feel a welling in my eyes because?” Charles visibly struggled with a smile. “When did you get so steely?” She flicked an eyebrow. “I’m a black woman in the legal profession. Do you think I’d have survived if I was as soft as bread?” “Oh please don’t start on the virtues of the Equality Act. You did a two-day seminar for all of us, and as much as that was appreciated, my old heart can’t take anymore. Now, you and Rocco.” Another jolt in the throat at those three words. “Whatever do you mean?” “He’s brought a wealth of clients with him.” “All legitimate?” “Yes. We need a white-collar criminal department and it will run like silk. Those same whitecollar criminals will need employment advice. It goes hand-in-hand.” “Not really. Why are you pushing him on me?” “Because the only reason he agreed to the partnership was to work with you.” You know what, Mamione? Game fucking on. “You really should have spoken to me first then,

15

Charles,” Anna replied, getting to her feet and making her hazelnut latte. “Do you want one?” “No, thank you. Those things rattle my fillings. Anna, whatever your history with him, I know you are extremely professional. Far too professional to let that get in the way of a fantastic, career-defining case.” Anna slammed the coffeepot down. “Stop it now. I said no. That’s the end of it.” “I’m still senior partner.” “Good for you.” Anna beamed. “You carry on pressing me and I won’t see any other reason not to set up my own firm.” Charles’ bushy grey brows came together. “You wouldn’t. You hate administration.” “Try me,” she challenged. “Lunch. One thirty on the dot. The car will pick you and Rocco up. You can air out your differences on the way to the Ivy.” Jesus. “Charles, can you hear what I’m saying, or are you hearing what you want to hear?” “Hearing what I want to, as always.” With the sprightliness of a man half his age, he leapt to his feet. “See you at one thirty.” “But—”

16

“Still your boss,” he reminded her gently, closing the office door behind him. The churning in her gut intensified. Why were people ultimately so fucking rude and self-satisfied? Anna took one sip of the coffee and the churning became a full washing-machine spin of bile. Fine. The next person to step foot in her office was going to get reamed, no two ways about it.  The meeting with the director of Martins Ltd. was brutal. For the director. Anna had a feeling she’d be getting an e-mail from Human Resources about her client care, but fuck it, if they didn’t act as if their brains had been fermenting in acid for the last decade, she’d be a bit nicer to them. Once he left, the humming started. “What are you singing?” she demanded of her secretary. “Hard Knock Life.” “Why?” “I don’t know,” she mused. “I went past Mr Mamione’s office and there’s a veritable Starbucks going on outside it. I think that’s when I started—” 17

“I got it.” Anna closed her office door and made her way to Rocco’s office. It was like some boy band had camped in an all-girls’ boarding school. Ridiculous. People, whom she knew had work to do, were all milling around. “Hey, Annie.” One of the twenty-odd partners smiled at her over a foam-topped mug. “Come to get some muffins? I think there are only a few left.” “You like working here, don’t you?” Anna said gently. “Erm...” “And you know that I personally drew up your partnership agreement, don’t you?” “Yes, but I don’t—” “So what makes you think I don’t know every single last loophole that will get you out of here with barely the silver-framed photo of your family in a cardboard box, if you ever call me Annie again?” “Sorry. Anna. It’s just—” “What?” “I called you Annie,” a deep voice interrupted, which sent a ripple of awareness over her. It had been six years since she’d heard his voice, and he didn’t look a single wrinkle different from when she’d met him at law school. Sucked that he hadn’t shrunk at all and 18

that he still towered over her, four-inch heels be damned. “You are determined to die at my hands, aren’t you?” she said with the smallest of smiles. Rocco dipped his immaculate head and waved a hand into his office. She opened her mouth to refuse and saw the partner, still trembling from her earlier threat, watching them carefully. Anna knew office politics well enough to not give any more fuel to that fire and walked in. Rocco closed the door gently and placed his hands in his well-cut trouser pockets. “Weren’t you going to say hello to me?” “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. What are you doing here?” That beautifully moulded mouth of his tilted upwards. “I do hope you don’t talk to your clients like that.” “Answer the question.” “I have a situation which calls for the best employment solicitor in London. That would be you.” She snorted. “I could have saved you the trouble.”

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“I like trouble,” he said quietly, dark eyes sliding over her frame, from her head to the very tip of her toes. “You look good, Annie.” “You look like Bugsy Malone. What is this? You were fine in your grotty corner dealing with grotty, bonus-fattened bankers in the city.” “And as much fun as legal and financial liposuction was, I have a situation. Family.” Oh, the cursed word. What wasn’t more important than family in his world? “So I have to deal with my valid dislike for your general being for your family.” “If you don’t mind.” “I fucking mind.” Rocco gave a soft sigh. “I know you do. Which is what makes you perfect. You’ll do the best job to prove that it’s all business and no pleasure.” “I don’t trust you,” she seethed. “If I can’t trust you outside of the office, what the hell makes you think I’ll do it on the back of my practising certificate?” “Because you’re the best,” he said simply. To have that accolade from someone like him, on the face of things, would have been whisky-warming pleasure. But still. It was coming from the snake from the 20

Garden of Eden. All flattery and guaranteed hell on earth. With a tug on the frayed edges of her temper, Anna said, “You can go for anyone, a silk if you wanted.” “I want you.” All right, gloves off. “You’re doing this because having a female not fawning over you to take her over every available surface grates on your personage.” He blinked and the pause, Anna knew, was to enjoy the shock value of whatever retort he was cooking up. “Annie, I’ve had you over every available surface. Snow is still my favourite. Honestly, though, I do need your help.” “Spin on it,” she flashed, turning on her heel and throwing open the door. One of them was leaving this firm, and it was not going to be her.

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Rocco released a pent-up breath. Well, that could have been worse. He was still intact and not in a body bag at the very least. Christ, that woman was pure fire, and to be fair, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. He absolutely detested being at a disadvantage personally, but it had to be done all above board. He’d promised. Elisabetta “Nonna” Mamione was properly pissed off, and with good reason. You did not spend thirty-odd years building a business off the back of your family recipes only to be unceremoniously tossed aside by a new owner. “I want to sue the fucker,” Nonna had said. “Nonna!” his mother had cried. “Please not in front of Rocky.” “He’s thirty-three years old—he’s said the word before!” Nonna cut her dark eyes to Rocco, who was trying not to laugh at the way his grandmother bandied about profanities. “I’m not joking. I want to sue him. I know my rights.” “You want to sue Enzo Vitale?” “Why not?”

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“You don’t want to consider, perhaps, alternative options rather than the tribunals?” His grandmother pointed a curved finger to his head. “Just because your father was stupid enough to get his arse thrown in prison, doesn’t mean he got that from my genes.” “Nonna.” “No. Do it properly. Sue him. Please. I’ve got money to pay you for your restrainer.” “Retainer, Nonna.” The older woman shrugged. “Same thing. Get me someone good. Someone who’ll mess that little prick up, good and proper.” “My grandmother, Ronnie Biggs,” he murmured. “Let me talk to Nick.” “Nicky is a good boy. If I asked him to do something for me on the right lines, he’d do it. Aren’t you a good boy?” “Nonna.” “Then it’s settled. I need to go shopping. I want to look like that Margulies woman from The Good Wife when we go to court.” As soon as his grandmother left the room, his mother made the sign of the cross. “You see what I’ve had to put up with? I left your father for a reason. Him 23

being mad was one part and his mother was the other two-thirds. I know you love her, but I can’t bear this. Just do what she wants.” “I can’t just serve papers on Enzo Vitale. I’m supposed to keep the law out, not drag it in.” “Then talk to Nicky, or let me call his father.” Jesus. “Mama, look. There are ways of doing things, and trust me, this isn’t right.” “Ask. Please. For the sake of the little sanity I’ve got left.” With a sigh of the weary, he’d picked up his mobile and made a call. “Sue him,” Nick said shortly. It took Rocco a full minute to recover. “What? Are you serious?” “I can’t touch him at the moment.” “Why?” “His dad just died. I know my dad ordered it, but he won’t confirm it so I can’t say anything about it. If I do anything to Enzo now, it’ll confirm whatever doubts are in people’s heads. So I’ve been told to leave the Vitale offspring alone.” “Nick, seriously, this is the biggest load of—” “Everyone likes your nonna. He shouldn’t have sacked her, so it’s his own fault if he gets caught out in 24

his business dealings. Even better, get someone independent to do it.” His mind flickered over the independence of that certain someone and flickered back to the conversation. “All right. Whatever fallout there is, you’ve got to brave it.” “With pleasure.” Two words that guaranteed a future massacre. He wondered what Enzo had done to make Nick an enemy. But then Enzo was a man who’d looked sideways twice at Nick’s new wife, so of course, the man was on a hit list. “All right. I catch you up later.” Now, here he was, at Piper & Co., in a brand new office, with old clients begging him not to stop acting for them, and the woman he was convinced he was going to marry ready to snap his spine in two. Now, why did he feel like smiling?  Anna skipped the lunch. She ignored Charles’ phone calls and instead sent a text. Last minute client meeting. Sorry. From past experience, she knew there was no way Charles would be back, and neither would 25

Rocco. Lunch with her boss was always a complete working write off, because once he started ordering drinks and food, you were done for. Pathetically, Anna felt a lump forming in her throat, so she did what any girl would do. She called a friend. “Hi, Imogen.” “Hey. Can you hold on one moment? I have to get the stylist to hold the phone properly.” It shouldn’t have surprised her—Imogen was the ultimate yummy mummy. She was a vision in the flesh, and whatever time she didn’t spend beautifying, she spent ordering her latest nanny into an early nervous breakdown. Well, she’d earned it, or rather her husband had, with a little help from Anna. Without her brief chat to Charles, Neil would not have the firm as one of his biggest clients to his bank. “You never call during the day. What’s wrong?” “Just...new partner.” “And you’re feeling threatened? Listen, darling, you wouldn’t have been offered partnership if you weren’t amazing at your job. I know you told me how much client revenue you billed in the last year and it was huge, so I commend you. If the newbie doesn’t fall into line soon, they’ll do it sharpish. No, no, Rudolpho, 26

I said beachy, not boho. Boho has been over for years. I’ve got to go, darling, I’ll need a tiny favour later, so I’ll call. Bye!” Imogen ended the call. Anna flicked through her phone and called someone more sensible. “Mimi, hey.” “Got surgery in fifteen minutes, honey, are you okay?” Anna rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Remember that guy who drop-kicked me like a rioter trying to get into JD Sports?” “Wow. Yes, I remember you telling me about him.” “He’s now one of the partners of my firm.” “You are joking!” “Nope. Apparently, all to get me to do a sensitive case.” “Obviously he loves you and he’s sorry about what happened,” Mimi drawled. “Mimi, shut up.” “Is that what you want to hear? You’re not the type of woman that has incurable amnesia about your love life. You know what happened—do you want to go back there?” “No!”

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“Then as much as I love you, you’ve got to suck it up. You can’t throw away everything you’ve worked for because you want to escape.” “I’m not.” “You’re thinking about it or you wouldn’t have called me.” “I’m not. I promise. I just.” She breathed out. “Anna, what’s going on?” “I finally started to like this job, you know? For the first time, everything stopped being such an uphill struggle and I thought finally, this is what I got into the law to do. Now he comes along. Meems, I am so fucking angry right now.” “And you fully deserve to be. But don’t let anyone doubt why you have that job. Go home, have a hot bath, a glass of wine, two glasses of wine, watch something funny and relax. It’s a work environment. You’ve got where you are because you can do this blindfolded. Okay? Hon, I’ve really got to go, but I’ll call you later, okay?” “Okay. Thank you.” She didn’t say it, because it was so hard for her to let that out, but Mimi knew what that pause meant. “And I love you too. Be strong.”

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Rocco had his feet on his desk, listening to a detective sergeant explaining where the interview tape was for a client. Anna had spent the last week ignoring his e-mails and invitations for lunch both through Charles and when he contacted her directly. In fact, she had an auto response for his e-mails: You don’t seem to be spinning on it. The next option was bringing in the big guns, and just as he thought of the insane old bat, he saw his nonna stroll into the office. But she didn’t head to him, instead she took a right and headed in the direction of Anna’s office. “I’ll call you back,” he said hurriedly, ending the call abruptly and rushing after her. “Nonna!” For an old woman, she moved fast! “I’m looking for Anna Taylor,” she smoked at Anna’s mouse-haired secretary, Bernie. “Do you have an appointment?” “Young lady, I’m far too old to make appointments. God knows if I’ll be alive to see them. Just tell her Nonna Mamione is here. I’ll wait.”

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Rocco came to a skidding halt next to his grandmother. “Nonna, what the hell?” he breathed in Italian. “Don’t be coy, I need to meet with my solicitor.” Anna opened her office door, wearing a sharp pinstriped blouse and flared grey skirt that hugged her graceful curves. “Can I help you?” “Yes, dear, I’ll need to sit down.” Edging past Anna, Nonna placed her wide bottom in a chair opposite Anna’s desk and set her handbag on her lap. “I’m sure you have other things do to, so let’s get this meeting started.” “What are you doing?” Anna demanded. Rocco’s eyes drifted to the angry line of her mouth. Time was he’d have been able to kiss that line into a smile. “Meet my grandmother. She’s my sensitive case.” “Bullshit!” “Young lady, I can hear you. I’m not deaf yet. Come in and close the door. You too, Rocky.” Anna strode to her desk. “Listen, Mrs. Mamione.” “Nonna.” “I’m not your grandchild, so that’s inappropriate.” 30

“Everyone calls me Nonna or I don’t answer.” “Mrs. Mamione—” Nonna looked at Rocky. “She’s not very quick. Are you sure she can handle this?” “Nonna, be nice. Anna and I went to law school together. She got the highest grade in my class, in every single subject.” “Did she?” his grandmother replied, tapping her finger to her mouth. “Are you the girl who broke my Rocky’s heart?” Anna’s eyes went to him. “Are you kidding me? Are you actually serious with this?” “Stop it,” Rocco said softly, and surprisingly, both women shut up. “Anna, my grandmother has been unceremoniously sacked from a thirty-year role. Nonna, Anna is the best solicitor you could ever hope to deal with this. She will savage Enzo Vitale so badly, no one will do business with him again. Which is what you wanted, correct? Then whatever happened between myself and Anna is subject non mentionitis. Clear?” “I’m not doing it.” Nonna’s eyebrows rose to the top of her bewigged head. “That reminds me. It’s good that women have a choice. Let me tell you. I was born into a Fascist 31

regime. I was barely ten when I lost half my family to bombing in the war. The other half I lost to the Mafia. I didn’t marry the man I wanted to, I didn’t get to live where I wanted to, I didn’t even get to decide when I had my children. The only thing I ever had any control over was where I worked and what I did in that job. For thirty years that place beat right here.” Nonna thumped her fist against her chest. “Then that little prick ripped it from me and told me he wanted to make it into a wine bar. A wine bar. Who is still drinking wine?” “Me,” Rocco admitted. “Me,” Anna murmured. “Do either of you need another wine bar?” “No,” they said in unison. Nonna sighed and looked to Anna once more. “I’ll be honest with you, it’s not about the money, it’s about my dignity. Do you understand? You’re a woman. I know nothing’s come easy for you.” Rocco rubbed his grandmother’s shoulder with affection. She did rattle on a lot, but sometimes it was easy to forget just how much of a life the little woman had lived. “No,” Anna said eventually. “It hasn’t.”

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“And how would you feel if some prick of a man tried to take it away from you?” Anna’s gaze rested on Rocco. “I’d burn everything to the ground and salt the earth.” Annie, you’re fighting the wrong bloke. “I’d be careful about that. Casualties.” Nonna waved her arms, demanding attention. “Good. So you will help me.” It wasn’t a question. He could see Anna wavering. This was exactly the sort of case she’d campaigned about in law school. She hated injustice with a passion, and he knew that no matter how long she worked in the law, she would always be stirred by a cause. “She’s seventy-seven years old,” Rocco pressed. “Yes, maybe she should have retired, but the option wasn’t given to her. Enzo Vitale took away her choices because he thought he could bully an old woman.” “He’s such a little fetuso.” “Nonna,” Rocco groaned. “It’s true. One thing you will find about me, young lady, is that I am honest. Whatever time I have left on this earth, I will not waste it telling lies. Are you going to help me sue the michia parading around like the law doesn’t apply to him?” 33

Anna looked down at her shoes. “I’m not cheap.” “I didn’t expect you to be.” Nonna removed her chequebook. “Will two thousand pounds be enough for a restraint?” “Retainer,” Anna and Rocco corrected. “Yes.” Anna looked surprisingly defeated. How could she possibly refuse a sweet old woman with a cheque book? She pressed a button on her phone. “Bernie? Can you bring in some new client forms, please?” “Of course.” “Now, don’t fob me off onto any little people,” Nonna demanded, handing over the cheque. “You are my solicitor. So when I call you, you will answer. If I get a letter from you, it’s signed by you.” “I’m a partner, Mrs. Mamione...” “My dear child, you and I will not have the solicitor client relationship we need to have unless you stop calling me Mrs. Mamione.” “Just because I’m your solicitor, does not mean you get to talk to me any way you like. It’s not going to wash with me.” “Are you pointing at me?” “You know what? Take your cheque back.”

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Rocco sat back and drew out his mobile, tapping out messages. They’d cut it out in a minute. Bernie brought in the forms while Anna and Nonna were going at each other. Nonna dissolved into Sicilian dialect until Anna said, “There are God knows how many solicitors in this country, just go and stick a pin in the Yellow Pages and hire whichever unlucky person that turns out to be!” Nonna laughed. “Just this little point and after that I will do everything you say.” She fitted on her glasses and filled out the forms with a deft hand. “I believe she’s made up her mind, Annie.” “You, shush.” She turned to Nonna. “All right, then. What evidence do you have, Mrs. Mamione?” Nonna beamed. “Very much. My payslips, all of my P60s, a letter of recommendation from the previous owners of the deli. And I know he’s trying to get an alcohol licence for the ‘wine bar.’ The previous owners also sent me copies of the purchase agreement and the terms of the sale of business which included goodwill, which was defined as my employment and my recipes.” “If you wanted to know where I got my brain from, it’s all Nonna’s side,” Rocco said, not looking up from his phone. 35

“Look, you don’t have anything to do with this, so you can jog on. All right?” “I’m quite happy where I am.” Rocco grinned, making himself comfortable in his chair. “That reminds me, picciottu, are you coming to dinner tonight?” Anna gave a snort. “It’s Tuesday. No chance.” Nonna and Rocco both stared at her. Of course she remembered that—it had been the basis of their first and last fight. “Poker with the boys,” Nonna said slowly. “Yes. It is Tuesday indeed. Rocky, you can walk me out? Anna, you will contact me shortly, yes?” “I’ll wait until your cheque clears.” Anna flashed a fake smile. “Just to be on the safe side.” “I like you. But you understand, until my Rocky admits you didn’t break his heart, I have to not like you.” Anna’s gaze burned into his for a brief moment. “Your Rocky needs to tell you the whole truth, so help him God.” “My Rocky never lies to me,” Nonna declared with pride, getting to her feet. “Good for you,” Anna murmured. “Close the door on the way out, please?”

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Nonna headed to the door, and Rocco put his phone away. “One of these days, you and I really should talk.” “What about you sleeping with another girl do we need to talk about?” She breathed out harshly, tucking stray curls behind her ears. Ah. She was still on that outdated practice note, but at the very least, she’d given herself away. “All of it,” he insisted. “When you’re ready.”  Nonna was on her mobile, glasses at the top of her salt-and-pepper head. Met her. And? Don’t keep us in suspense—is she good enough for Rocco? She’ll educate him thoroughly if he gets out of line. Trust me, she’s more than good enough.

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There was no honour in being the girlfriend who walked away from a cheating partner. All the reality TV shows that held it as some sort of medal of survivorship just proved to Anna that she needed to watch less TV and read more books. When it happened, she didn’t tell anyone. Not a single soul. Her mother didn’t count, but then her mother rather liked Rocco, so she needed to be informed just so she would shut up about him. Anna simply cut Rocco off. Blocked his number, refused to see him or speak to him. This was a stretch when they were both attending the same college. Why would she fight him and advertise how he’d humiliated her? People had the audacity to interfere in her pain, asking her what was wrong, what was going on, why wasn’t the star couple together any more, just before their exams hit. Once the first person was told promptly to mind their own fucking business, the whispers slowly faded away. Anyone who had a hint of anything different to the standard story—that Anna didn’t want to be in that damned relationship—did not deviate from the official line, or else risked a loss of 38

life. Hell, when they all had to complete their elective examinations, no one had room to do anything but revise and pray they’d done enough to pass. Despite spending her days on automatic and her evenings in some sort of distress, Anna was one half percent away from full marks in every single examination and was given a congratulatory award by the college and featured on the Law Society Website. On a beach in Greece, Anna basked in the sunshine and her own bikinied allure to other holiday makers. As far as anyone else knew, she got over it. So what, she’d been some guy’s piece of fluff for a few (eight) months. Who cared? And he couldn’t keep it in his pants, what a surprise! She’d never expected much of men, not when she realised that her dad was picture perfect, and a complete one-off. In all honesty she could say to herself that it was bound to happen. Rocco Mamione, Mr. Strolling Through Life Like He Was In A Perfume Ad, was a cheater. Standard male issue. Playing it back in her mind, she knew when things became different. He didn’t call as much. He was quieter, edgy. Admittedly, he’d never snapped at her, or been rude to her. But when a man spends a good eight months crawling all over you and the 39

electricity supply gets cut? You know there’s something wrong. The day of disaster started with a phone call. It was his mother who called her. “Anna, is Rocco with you?” How his mother had her number was inconsequential to the fact that his mother didn’t have a four square check in for him for once. “No, Mrs. Mamione. Why?” “I think, I don’t know why, but I have this terrible feeling that he’s been arrested.” “I’ll call you back.” She ended the call, absolutely trusting his mother’s maternal instincts, and called Beppe. “Where is he?” “Annie, he’s been there for about four hours, he’s about to be—” “Where?” “Charing Cross police station. Don’t go there. He’ll call you.” “Fuck that. Do I look like the sort of woman that’ll sit at home by the phone and fucking wait?” She kissed her teeth and rushed to the station. Please be okay, was the only thought that gave pace to her running. The reception officer at the station was bored

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and patently uninterested until she mentioned Rocco’s name. “Oh, are you the girl who’s here to give a statement?” “Yes,” she flat-out lied. She was going to be a lawyer. The curse was such that she’d have to learn to bullshit on her feet sometime. “Okay, wait there.” The receptionist picked up the phone. “Yeah. That witness who said she was with Mamione last night. She’s here.” Bile burned in her throat. She hadn’t stayed with Rocco last night. They hadn’t slept together for a full week. She’d thought he was tired or stressed. Jesus, they were all stressed! He’d fucked someone else. Obviously that was what stressed him. Oh. Dear. God. The receptionist called out, “Imogen Barnes? Can you wait a minute?” Imogen Barnes? Her friend Imogen Barnes? Who borrowed her notes, her lip gloss, a tenner here and there and now her boyfriend? That bitch Imogen Barnes? Fair dos. Anna walked out of the police station and went straight to Imogen’s home, which she shared with her parents. As soon as Imogen opened

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the door, Anna punched her. No questions, no demands for an explanation. Just fist to face. Imogen collapsed in the corridor and burst into tears, holding her mouth. “I’m sorry!” she mumbled, blood on her teeth. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but the police arrested him about—” “I don’t care if God himself came down from Heaven and told you to fuck him. You shouldn’t have done it.” With that, she turned and left. Bizarrely dry eyed. Anna didn’t even mention Imogen’s name for over a year, before her mother’s prompts started to ring with her. Imogen never stopped trying to worm her way back in, and Anna’s mother reminded her, “When something happens to me or your father, I want people to be there for you. She’s sorry. She’s been sorry for a long time. What effort has he made to make it up to you?” While Imogen was all gushing with presents and apologies before she started rabbiting on about herself and her eternal hunt for a forgiving man, Anna would forever have her guard up around Imogen. After a tenminute meeting, Mimi said about Imogen quite bluntly, “I don’t trust her. There isn’t a single genuine thing about her.” 42

“Give her a chance.” Even to Anna’s ears it sounded half-hearted. “To do what? Fuck me over? Listen, girls like her always have motivation. To be fair, I don’t even think she slept with your guy.” “How can you even say that after ten minutes?” “She is so desperate for your approval. You’ve been out of law school for what? Two years. Is she even serious about a job, or just getting married and swanning around in Vanessa Bruno?” “Meems, you can’t be so judgemental.” “Yeah, I can. I don’t get it. You forgave her but you can’t forgive him?” “No.” “Why?” Mimi’s voice carried across the bar. Imogen, waiting to collect their drinks, turned and waved at them. Anna looked back at Mimi, her friend’s image wavering with tears. “Because I loved him more.” Mimi hugged Anna tightly. “We can’t talk about this again, because it’s ruining my hard girl image.” “Hmm.” And rather than cutting her up with a scalpel in one hand and surgical scissors in the other, Mimi respectfully left it alone. They all did. There were weeks when she wouldn’t think twice about a Tuesday 43

night. When she’d travel through Wandsworth and it didn’t even faze her. She even looked him up on the Law Society pages to find out where he was working, and found his contact page, amidst a list of accolades and a black-and-white picture of him. He looked as slick as ever, the camera catching him at an angle that sharpened his cheekbones and emphasised his devilishness. “Not dead then, shot by some slut’s husband.” What did it all matter? It happened so long ago, she could barely remember what it was like to have him tuck a present into her bag, or turn up at her flat with food in tow, or give her a shoulder massage while testing her on business accounts. She couldn’t remember being called Tempesta because of how passionately she argued a point of law. It was just the “Prick Phase.” Meant absolutely nothing. Until now. Now, he was everywhere. In her office, in her work, in her life, her head. As if it all happened a half hour ago, only to Groundhog Day on her. Rocco would say to her, usually after a verbal lashing to whomever asked for it, “I can see it on your face when you’re about to go nuclear on someone. I sort of feel sorry for them, but stupidity is curable. I like to think you’re being charitable. Almost.” 44

One hop, skip and a jump from his voice was how his touch was tattooed over her body, just like his mouth on her neck, his palms on her breasts, his thighs between hers and that cock of his. Christ, the way he used it, as if it bent to his will, hitting her just so right, she was taking Strepsils for her throat for days on end. For the first time in such a long time, she let her guard down. Anna Taylor, ice queen who’d stake a Hans Christian Andersen witch with a halfarsed glance, let someone be close to her. Anna Taylor, who hadn’t shed a tear for Rocco and his betrayal, found herself waking up at three, four in the morning, in tears because it turned out her memory was a lot sharper than she’d fooled herself to believe.

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Nothing worth having was ever happened upon with ease. Rocco was very tempted to have that tattooed somewhere painful on his body every time he lost ground with Anna. That she’d taken Nonna’s case was purely incidental. Charles asked just as Rocco was on his way to meet with a QC for a fraud trial, “Is the lovely Ms. Taylor dealing with your grandmother’s case?” “Yes she is, with as much grace as I thought she’d offer.” “And you know your contract keeps you here for three years.” Rocco’s left eyebrow winged upwards. “I’ve just landed a case worth around two million. Do you really think I’m going anywhere?” Charles smirked. “I’m almost curious to see if Anna can push you out.” “I’m very good at taking whatever Anna dishes out.” “What a torrid love affair you two must have had.” “See you later, Charles.” Rocco didn’t look up from the papers and made his way to the car park. The 46

whole cheating ex-boyfriend role was really wearing thin. Despite his origins, particularly his grandmother’s ancestry with the Sicilian Mafia, Rocco valued his integrity. He’d watched his own mother’s liveliness being flaked away every time she discovered a new mistress, a new girlfriend, a new set-up for the females intent on having jewellery and flats from her husband, Rocco’s father. And it was his father’s lack of foresight beyond anything with breasts that cost him his relationship with Anna. Rocco had been on the path to working exclusively with pharmaceuticals. It was how he met Beppe and introduced him to both Tony and Nick. What the two of them didn’t know about compounds and chemicals wasn’t worth knowing. The first time his father had been arrested on suspicion of fraud, his mother called him and asked him to get the Da Canaveze solicitors to help him. Rocco sat in the police station, the Blackstone’s Criminal Practice book on his lap while he waited. His father barely escaped without a charge. It had been too close, and the lawyers admitted it. Rocco demanded a copy of the interview tape and saw exactly where the solicitors had gone wrong and almost helped send his father to prison.

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So despite Beppe asking how the hell they were going to do what they needed to do, Rocco enrolled himself in a conversion course and inhaled the law. He also begged his father to keep his nose clean until he was fully qualified. A three-year degree condensed into one year didn’t even begin to challenge him. He read more, and he did a master’s degree specialising in criminal law. He applied to some of the biggest law firms in London for a training contract and walked every single interview. While others struggled to even get a look in, Rocco had a choice of firms. He attended the College of Law, and partway through the first tutorial on Business Accounts, he clocked Anna. The top of her red tinted curly head, really, because she was furiously writing down everything, calculator glued to her left hand. As if she could feel his stare, she glanced at him. Rocco sent her a grin. Her mouth twisted in disapproval. His grin widened. She carried on writing. The next tutorial, he sat next to her and watched her workings out. “You’re right,” he murmured in admiration. “Can I copy?” “Then how will you learn?” she retorted. “I know how to do it, I just can’t be arsed today. It involves effort.” 48

“I’m sure you’d have more if you weren’t so busy humping your way through campus.” “How dare you? I’ve been untouched except for precious times with my priest.” Anna stared at him in horror. “What, not into Catholic jokes?” “Child sex abuse is not funny.” “It is when your priest does try it and he’s found floating in the Thames the next day.” Anna put her pen down. “You need help. Honestly, I know some counselling services that’d be happy to help you out.” “How about you help me?” “I donate to charities via direct debit. I’m not into personal volunteering.” “It’s not charity if I take you out.” He named the French restaurant two streets away which had two Michelin stars. “What do you think?” “I actually eat, so offering to go there means your card better not bounce.” “It won’t,” he promised. “Are you coming then? Help out a damaged young—” “All right, just shut up and let me take these notes.” He caught the tiniest smile on her face and felt like he’d reached the summit of Everest. When she first smiled properly at him, because he showed up to 49

their dinner in a suit and tie, it was like being given a knighthood. Anna made him earn her affection, and when he had it, blazing sun in the height of summer in the Sahara couldn’t compete with the heat of being with her. She had her own gravitational pull, and even though she could tell a person where to get off with specific directions to the Land of Fuck You, people wanted to be around her. She crackled with energy, right to the tips of her flame-tinted curls. Her passion was employment law, she informed him, only because just as she was going into teaching, one of her aunts was unceremoniously sacked. Anna, incensed with the injustice of it all, went with her aunt to the Tribunal and won the case for her aunt on discrimination. Of the forty thousand pounds compensation award, Anna was given ten thousand which she used to pay for her conversion course. He heard from others at the college that Anna would get into long and involved debates with the tutor on aspects of the various employment acts and, moreover, the government for siding with businesses for the sake of money. “It’s like she’s been possessed by the spirit of a thousand trade unions,” one guy sighed. But that was his woman. No bullshit, all smarts, honour and a legal 50

bullet in the eye if you crossed her. Beppe didn’t like Anna at first. It was a typical clash of who knows best—best friend or girlfriend. But it was Anna who suggested a group trip to the Alps to ski, and after that and paying for several grappas for the chalet girls Beppe had his wandering eyes on, Beppe declared eternal loyalty to Anna. “Because she paid for grappas?” “No, fool, because she did it without asking. Without seeking my approval. Without being so desperate for it she’d make a show of it. Of all the people she’s started fights with she hasn’t started any with me because she knows that we are bredrins.” “Don’t use that word.” “What, I’m from Streatham, of course I’ll use that word. But she understands. So yeah, if you and her say moved in together and had a litter of puppies, the first three to be called Giuseppe, I’d be all right with that.” And just as Rocco was looking at houses, rings and thinking about how well Anna and his sisters would get on, disaster struck. Massimo Da Canaveze called him. “I will be brief, Rocco, but your father has been extremely careless. He passed on some information to a loose-lipped girl who has been in 51

contact with a detective constable. This detective has been after your father for a long time.” “What’s happened?” “Get rid of everything that connects him to her and us. I have told your father to behave as normal, which means the clean-up will rely on you. You know what to look for. If not, speak to Nicholas and Anthony. You will not have very much time to rectify his mistakes. Do your best not to get yourself caught.” “Yes sir. Thank you.” Rocco called Nick and Tony to meet up with him, angry that his father was again intruding in his personal life. “What can we get rid of?” Nick shrugged. “Formulate new attendance notes, change the dates, not just on the files he’s got but on his accounts. Has he been skimming money from dividends as well?” “Probably.” Tony winced. “It’ll take some time. How far back am I going?” “I don’t even know. Your dad said we can’t get caught.” Nick lowered his lashes and thought. “Tony, can you access the server for his firm?”

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“Easy, but there’ll be stuff on his computer as well. Hardware history.” “We have to do this,” Rocco said. “This will kill my mother.” “To be honest, mate, it’ll fuck up your career as well.” Tony caught his eye. “Do yourself a favour. Don’t tell Anna. If this detective is after your dad, he’s probably got an eye on you and her too.” Rocco looked to Nick for help. “Seriously, don’t get her involved. If she doesn’t know anything, she can’t resent you for giving anything away.” “Fine.” So he withdrew from Anna, trying to keep her integrity intact, while the three of them did their best to erase the tracks of fraud in Rocco’s father’s work. The last job was to go to the office direct and remove the same information from his PC and replace it with well-documented client meetings and letters of advice. They got caught. He got caught. The security guard, who had been well paid to run the feed as directed by Tony, let one camera slip, and Rocco was caught on camera in the corridor of the firm. The police pounced and Rocco, for the first time, found himself in the wrong seat of a police station in front of an officer who 53

seemed unnaturally excited about it all. He’d introduced himself as a DS Norcross and landed himself at the top of Rocco’s shit list. “Where were you last night?” “Can’t say.” “You’re not protecting your father, and you’re only going to ruin your career. You won’t be a solicitor if you have a criminal record, Mr. Mamione.” His eyes turned malicious. “That won’t impress your mother.” Rocco cleared his throat, to prevent himself from ripping out Norcross’. “No comment.” Two hours into the interview, Rocco’s father manned up and claimed the video was of him, tidying up some work after a client dinner meeting. “Doesn’t answer the question, junior,” the officer spat, four hours into the investigation. “Where were you?” “No comment.” Norcross pressed him. “Maybe I should ask your mother. She’d do anything to protect you and your useless father.” He leered. “Anything at all. Women like your mother tend to be really lonely. All they need is an ear. Or whatever takes their fancy.” Rocco chuckled, even as his solicitor touched his shoulder. Laughing was better than trying to pull out

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the man’s paltry brains through his nostrils. “Amateur,” Rocco murmured. The interview was abruptly interrupted and the officer left the room. Rocco’s solicitor turned to him. “Work with me here, Rocco. Were you there?” “Don’t be so fucking thick,” Rocco thundered. “Call your girlfriend.” “What for?” “It’s what will help.” “No,” he refused. “She is not getting in the middle of this.” “Then you are doing yourself no favours.” “Can you hear me? I said no.” Norcross came back in. “Well, well, well. Like father, like son, eh? Some girl has just said you were with her last night. Some girl who says she’s not your girlfriend and you don’t want your girlfriend to know. Sound familiar?” Rocco didn’t let a flicker of a muscle move on his face. “It’s personal.” “Don’t play about with me.” “Look, I’ve said I wasn’t there. Other people say I wasn’t there. The person who was allowed to be in the office at the time says they were there. Why are you wasting my time?” 55

“Interview terminated at nine forty-eight p.m.” The tape was abruptly switched off, and Norcross pushed his face uncomfortably close to Rocco’s. “I fucking hate you Mamiones. Swanning around like it’s fucking Sicily in the 19 fucking 50s. You’re not smart. You are not fucking clever. You will slip up. One of you or all of you, and then I’ll have the pleasure of throwing every single one of you into Brixton Prison. Nice and cosy. See if you can run shit from there. It’ll leave your mother all alone and in need of a real man to look after her.” Whilst Rocco couldn’t agree more, there was no way this slimy dick would touch his mother. “Nice meeting you,” Rocco replied. He hurried out of the station and saw how many voice messages there were. Ignoring all of them, he called Anna. It rang for a few beats before it cut. He tried again. Cut off. The third time, it went straight to voice mail. “Annie, call me.” He rang Beppe. “What the hell, man?” “Crazy bitch said you were with her.” “What?” “Imogen,” Beppe repeated, and Rocco’s heart sank to his toes. Jesus, that girl was mad. She had the weirdest obsession with having anything Anna gave a second look to, and he had been top of the list. Rocco 56

wouldn’t touch her for fear of rabies. “She saw you get arrested and said you two were at your flat banging away all of last night so you couldn’t have been at your dad’s office. Anna called me, so if she doesn’t know now, she will do real soon.” “Why the fuck!” Rocco roared. “You can sort it out with Anna, later, but you can’t say anything. We can’t say you were with us, because that’ll put you in the shit, and you can’t say Imogen’s lying because that’ll put you back to square one—why the fuck were you at that office? Worst bit is your dad. That floozy he was shagging just showed the police where she got the money from. We didn’t have time to get to the company accounts, coz we didn’t think he was stupid enough to touch company money. He’s done for Rocks.” Rocco lost his stomach. All of that. For what? “Mate, look, it could have been worse. If they found anything of what we got rid of, he’d be in so much shit, nothing could help him. At the most he’ll get a few years, maybe a fine given his age.” “He won’t. That cunt of a pig is after him, hardcore. If dad gets away with less than five years, he’ll be lucky.” Rocco trod as carefully as if his whole world was laid with broken glass. Norcross stalked him and, 57

worse, stalked Anna outside college for a fortnight to catch Rocco out in a lie. It meant that Rocco could only try to contact Anna at the college in a weak attempt to keep his alibi tight. “Pretty girl,” Norcross said once, as Rocco finished his elective exam on company law. “Your ex. Does she know what you’re like?” “I’m sure your wife got the measure of you,” Rocco retorted, opening his car door. “How long did that marriage last, sell by date of a loaf of bread?” Norcross slammed the car door shut, invading Rocco’s personal space. Red lines splintered his face around his nose and under his eyes. A vein pulsed in the man’s temple. “You’re a bloke. But you wouldn’t understand how easy it is for me to make women like her talk.” Spots danced in Rocco’s vision. He was going to black out, wake up and pieces of this dickhead would be all over the road, in bloody chunks. “She’ll tear you a new one. Feel free to try.” Norcross smirked. “You’re bluffing.” Rocco opened the car door again, sending Norcross stumbling away from the vehicle. “Your choice.”

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Fear and anger made him ask his mother if Norcross had made advances to her. Carmen was embarrassed and ashamed. “Don’t do anything, Rocco. Your father hasn’t been sentenced yet.” “What did he do?” Carmen rang her hands in desperation. “He said certain evidence could go missing if I... Oh God, Rocco, I can’t say it, but you understand what I mean.” “He’s going to die,” Rocco said bluntly. His mother cupped his face. “You will do no such thing. He didn’t touch me—” “Mama, the very insult is enough for him to be dead. The fact that he threatened Anna with the same—” “Baby,” she whispered, “your father. It’ll just make things worse if that awful man goes missing. They’ll blame you, and then this whole family will be ripped apart. You keep everyone together. Please, just this once, do nothing more.” Bail was set at a ridiculous amount, due to his risk of absconding. Who could blame him? Sicily was far nicer than the UK weather wise. But with his father reporting at the local station every day, Rocco had some time to talk to him. “What’s this guy got against you? It’s so far beyond personal.” 59

His father looked wary. “Norcross wanted in. I told Massimo Da Canaveze that he couldn’t be trusted. Not just because he’s hungry for power—obviously he’s a small man who’s never had a foothold in anything. But because he’s fucked up in the head. Nothing’s ever stuck because their men weren’t convicted of anything, but... He’s known to get his jollies from women who want to help. You know? Massimo took my word for it, and he’s been my arch enemy ever since.” “Dad.” Rocco wanted to bang his father’s head into the nearest wall. “You could have warned me!” “Your mother thinks you’re a hothead and she’s right. I couldn’t risk you doing something and him ending up on the ten-0’clock news. The idea of him anywhere near my wife made me sick. If it made me sick, it’d make you murderous. Just keep an eye on your girl. From a distance, mind you. Pray to the Almighty that this won’t be as bad as I think it’ll be.” He got six years mainly because he could afford to pay the money back to the company and he showed remorse. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Rocco whispered on his first visit to the prison, stale air stinging his nostrils with the sour scent of sweat.

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His father shrugged. “You did good. Could have been worse. Did you sort things out with your girl?” The last words Anna ever said to him were, “Come near me again and I will use your testicles as plant pots. Given I am the worst gardener this side of Chernobyl, you don’t want that to happen.” “No, Dad.” His father winced. “Never mind. Plenty more fish in the sea. How’s your nonna?” “Nonna’s mad with you,” he said eventually, struggling to bring his emotions under control. “So she’ll come down when she says she’s not going to cave your head in with the visiting order.” He snorted a laugh. “Your nonna’s crazy. You’ve got family around you, Rocky, don’t forget that. Family’s all you got.” “Maybe I wanted a different family,” he said quietly. It didn’t matter. It was all gone now, dust in the wind. But it started to niggle at him. Odd moments when he thought he had made peace with what happened. Until he watched Nick fight tooth and nail to keep hold of Gina and Tony bring Lydia back from the edge of madness. He saw his friends get married, be happy, settle. God, even Massimo Da Canaveze, whom he thought would never commit to another 61

relationship, was tamed by the all-encompassing loudness and command of Belinda Afriyie. The niggle turned into a raging, heated rash that wouldn’t go away. What about Anna? You and Anna? If things hadn’t gone so spectacularly wrong, maybe they’d be married. With two dogs and a baby. Fuck, no baby yet—Anna wanted to establish herself for at least four years before taking maternity leave. Dogs, definitely. She’d told him she’d never been allowed pets growing up, and she wanted a dog or three to adore her and follow her around for treats. So the what about turned to what if, and what if became when. When simply became, get on with it for fuck’s sake, and then Nonna presented him with the perfect opportunity. It occurred to him that he’d left it too long, he’d let Imogen’s poison and his own fiendish hell keep Anna away from him, but there was a reason Rocco always got what he wanted. He was good at it.

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“Hi, baby!” Rocco’s mother, Carmen, sounded very excited to hear from him. He spoke Arabic, which was much simpler for his mother to deal with for the type of conversation he wanted to have. “Hi, Mama, are you all right?” “So pleased to hear from you. Are you fine? Anything wrong? Please don’t say it’s your nonna—she can’t cause any more trouble. I can’t bear it.” “No, no. But...” Awkward, awkward, awkward. “Remember that girl, the one that went bad when Dad—” “Anna?” Carmen asked. “Yeah,” Rocco said slowly. “Anna. I’m trying and failing to get her to talk to me.” His mother sighed. “You have to understand that she’s hurt. Very badly hurt. I know you had a difficult choice to make, but you didn’t pick her. It was choose her and risk prison or lose her and save your family.” Rocco closed his eyes. “I don’t know if that will be enough. Of a reason for her to understand why.” “I’m sorry, baby, I don’t have any answers for you.”

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“What made you forgive Dad?” There was a stark silence on the other end of the phone. “Mama?” She cleared her throat. “It was a different situation, Rocco. It wasn’t just me I had to think about. It was you, your brothers and sisters. I had to think what I would do with myself if I left your father. It’s not like how it is now, the shame of being a single mother. You put up and you shut up. I don’t know how I would have survived or whether you children would have forgiven me if I’d just left.” Rocco nearly banged his head into his desk. “Mama, we were the ones telling you not to put up with it.” Of course his father was discrete at first, but he got careless, and what could his mother have done to hide evidence of her husband’s infidelity? “You didn’t understand,” his mother protested. “And when all was said and done, I loved your father. Very much. He abused that terribly, but I loved him. And you cannot love without knowing that eventually you will have to forgive. No one is perfect.” Christ, no, his mother just spouted forgive and forget. “So it was us and blind acceptance. That’s the way your marriage worked?”

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“No, that’s not what I meant. Oh, Rocco... When we were together it was good. We had good times together, didn’t you think? I was pregnant five times, we got along, he paid attention to me, he bought me nice things, put a roof over my head, gave me whatever I needed. I think after I gave birth is when he got into a habit and he couldn’t get out of it. After the first time, I wasn’t enough for him.” “Mama, you have to be joking.” “I know, it sounds awful, but I’m telling the truth. Your friends are getting to that age now, they’re having babies with their partners and believe me, the last thing anyone wants is to raise that baby alone. If they had a choice, they’d say no. I swear to the Almighty. It’s very bleak.” “He was a cash machine Dad,” Rocco said, embittered by the memories of his mother’s tears. “That’s not true. Rocco Danesh Mamione, you take that back right now this minute! He may have been an appalling husband, but he was a good father to you and your siblings.” “Mama...” “No, don’t you dare.” She sounded enraged. “I forgave him for a lot because he loved you and your

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brothers and sisters. Don’t take that away from me. Not now.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She cleared her throat several times, and when she spoke, she had a tremble in her voice that betrayed her distress. “Look, I had a reason to give your father a chance. Time and time again. What is your reason? What did you have that should be rebuilt? Does that make sense to you?” He breathed out slowly. “It does. Thank you, Mama.” What did he and Anna have that was worth this? They understood one another. Together, they shared a wealth of disappointments and prejudices, comforted in a touch or a look. They had times together when all Anna did was pop her hip to the side or bite her bottom lip and he’d have to get her somewhere private. And they had laughed, until tears had run down their faces and their stomachs hurt. He’d been a better man with her. Thoughtful, appreciative, patient—except when it came to getting her naked, fair enough. She hadn’t lost an iota of her fire or passion or herself when she was with him. Only she glowed more with the knowledge that she held him completely in 66

her hands. He could talk to her and she would listen. Not wait for her turn to speak, but listen. She’d been his friend, his counsellor, his disciplinarian for their studies, his tattoo caretaker and his love. His very great love. Even if it had taken him five months to tell her. They were on that skiing trip, quiet around them as Rocco sat outside, breathing in the crisp, cold air. The darkened surroundings of the mountains demanded his awe and silence. All of a sudden Anna leapt onto his back, her hair tickling his face. “I think you’re crazy,” she sang with a giggle. “Stop adding whisky to the grappas,” he warned her. “What, tastes better that way! PS, I think Beppe’s humping one of the chalet girls. If you’re quiet you can hear.” She ruined it by putting both hands over his ears and pressing his head to her breasts. Sort of ruined it, anyway. “He can thank us both by staying well away.” Catching her arm, he gently pulled her onto his lap. She had on a well-padded fleece jacket and ski pants. “Thank you.” “What for?” she breathed, pushing her hair out of her face. 67

“Not calling him a crazy prick and kicking him off the nearest mountain.” She laughed. “I can be generous at times.” “Yes, you can,” he agreed, holding her still so she could see what was clearly in his eyes. “I love you for that.” She started and, despite his hold, nearly dislodged herself from his lap. “Pardon?” He pointed to his mouth. “Watch. Okay? I love you, Anna Taylor.” A laugh or squeak escaped her and to date, he didn’t know which one it was. “That’s brave of you. No guarantee you’ll hear it back and all that.” He caught the zip of the fleece with his teeth and tugged it down slowly. “Uh huh.” His naughty Anna was only wearing a stark white bra beneath the padded material. The contrast of the silk against her rich coffee-coloured skin sent the blood rushing to his cock. He brushed his mouth over the swell of one breast, then the other, feeling her pulse speeding beneath his lips. “Okay, I love you too. But we can’t do it here.” “Why not?” he asked genially, unzipping his jacket and pulling her tight against his warmth. “Hypothermia’s a bastard to heal from.” 68

“That’s okay,” he assured her, lowering them both to the snow. “I’ll take the brunt.” “You won’t thank me if you lose a testicle to the cold.” Rocco laughed. “You’d still love me.” She grinned, cupping warm hands to his cheeks. “I would,” she murmured between kisses. “I’d love you anyway, two balls or none.” The memory of that night would never fail to make him hard. The snow melting around them, soaking into his hair as he pulled off what clothing he could to at once protect Anna and join them, the heat of Anna’s body writhing against his own until they were replete. It had been work to earn Anna’s affections, and when she gave them, she gave them with everything she had. Why should Anna give them another chance? Because she’d loved him. She’d loved him completely, and until lies forced them apart, he knew she didn’t have any doubts about the way he felt about her. They had the most amazing future together, just within their grasp. There was no reason to throw that away, especially not on the say so of Imogen fucking Barnes. If she’d meant it six years ago, he was damned sure

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she still loved him today. So fuck it, he was going to order her a teddy bear. That was always a good start.

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Anna was just putting on her coat to leave the office when Imogen came in, baby buggy in hand. No way, man. She knew she should have left an hour ago, but she’d been having a good giggle with counsel about a rather ridiculous case. “Darling, please, I need a massive favour.” “No can do, Imo,” she said, placing her phone in her bag. “Please! Neil’s got this do tonight.” “You have a nanny.” “I sacked her because she was trying something with Neil!” “She was sixty-two, what on earth would she try?” “It’s all on the Nanny Cam.” “I can’t, I’m meeting Mimi. We’re going to see The Lion King. It was my birthday present?” Imogen made a face. “Please. This is so important.” “Then you shouldn’t have sacked your nanny. I can’t, Imogen.” The baby started to wail, obviously set off by the pitch of its mother’s voice. Anna touched the tips of 71

her fingers to the baby’s chest and wiggled them. “Sweetheart, don’t get upset. Mummy’s just being a little selfish.” The baby blinked at her and stopped crying immediately. “See, you’re so good with him. It’s just for a few hours.” If Anna cancelled on Mimi just once more, Mimi would start a revolution on her arse. “Imogen, no. I can’t. Bernie has the number of a great babysitter, she always uses her when she’s got last-minute hang-ups.” Anna edged Imogen to Bernie’s desk, and with Imogen and baby hovering by, Anna flicked through Bernie’s rolodex. “Here. Give this woman a call and sort yourself out. I really am late.” “But I—” Imogen’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. What was she looking at? Anna turned around and saw Rocco heading for the lifts. “What the hell?” “Yeah,” Anna said shortly. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’m late.” “Are you mad? Have you lost your mind? Did you forget what he did?” “What the two of you did?” Anna corrected. “No. I haven’t. But I have a job and it needs doing.” 72

Imogen stared at her in disbelief. “I never thought you were that stupid, but it’s obvious you want to get under him again.” “I’m going now because I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.” She headed in the same direction as Rocco, in fact, feeding into a perverse need to see how the two of them would behave toward each other. “Hold the lift,” she called, just as Rocco took a step inside. He held the door with one large hand, and his eyes lightened deviously on Imogen, with baby in tow. “Imogen Barnes,” he said. “Look at you, rearing the innocent.” Anna was shocked. Whatever she had expected, it wasn’t that. “I’ll wait for the next one. Anna, I’ll talk to you when you get your senses back.” The lift doors closed just as the baby started to wail again. Rocco leaned against the closed elevator doors. “So you’re still friends. Really?” Anna glanced at him edgily. “Sometimes, yes.” “Forgive me if I find that absurd.” “She’s made up for it. It was a mistake.” He snorted a laugh. “It was a fabrication.” 73

“Excuse me?” “I said, it was a fabrication. You tell me what on this planet would induce me to fuck that?” “I don’t know, maybe simple availability!” Anna raged. “Oh, look, there’s a pussy, why don’t I stick my dick into it?” Rocco suddenly crowded her space, and she found herself pressed to the wall of the lift, clutching the support bars. “You knew every single inch of my body. Ask her. Compare notes.” “Why would she lie about that? Why would she completely ruin our friendship over a lie?” He shrugged. “Why does anyone do something that makes them infamous in a person’s life? What else does she have going for her? Ask her where my tattoos are. If she slept with me like she said she did, she’ll know.” “That’s crap, what if I’d told her?” “Did you?” Course not, the wonders of his body were all for her and for everyone else’s imagination. “It won’t prove anything.” He smiled sadly. “My learned friend, I beg to differ. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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 Mimi, the sleek and normally patient Amelia Johnson, looked unimpressed when Anna saw her tapping the rim of a half-empty wineglass. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Mimi accepted the kiss on the cheek. “You are taking the blind arse mick with me.” “I said sorry!” “Imogen?” she asked warily. “Funny story,” Anna replied, removing her coat and sitting her bag on the nearest chair. “Imogen came asking for me to babysit.” “Nothing new.” “She saw Rocco and called me mad, asking me what the hell I was doing after everything he did to me.” Mimi’s bottom lip nearly hit the table. “She said what?” “Oh wait, there’s more. So I’m in the lift with Rocco—” “Really?” “Shut up. And he tells me that Imogen made it up.” “Why?” 75

“He made out like she’s obsessed with me and she’s trying to make herself an important person in my life. He then said I should ask Imogen where his tattoos are, like that will make any difference.” “Do you know where my piercings are?” Mimi asked dryly. “Eww no!” “That’s because you and I haven’t had sex. Trust me, you wouldn’t forget.” Anna winced, and then curiosity prompted her. “Tits or kitty?” “None of your business, but it’s a fair point. Did you compare notes?” “No. I wanted to forget he and Imogen ever exchanged bodily fluids. Maybe they did it in the dark and he fucked her from behind. Doesn’t mean jack.” Mimi watched her carefully. “Where are his tattoos, for the sake of argument?” Anna closed her eyes for a brief moment, and the image of Rocco’s body flashed behind her lids. “He’s got a crucifix over his heart, with In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti written beside it. Then he’s got a gun just over his left hip. And then...right on his...” “Say it!” Mimi pressed. “Is it on it?”

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“No! It’s just above the pubes,” she whispered. “It says chase the storm.” Mimi grinned over the rim of her wineglass. “When did he get that? Before or after he met you?” “After,” Anna admitted. Rocco said that she’d known his body. She could have picked out that man’s body by touch and taste alone. When he showed her the new tattoo, she went all hot with pleasure and decided it was her job to make sure it healed properly by carefully rubbing in skin cream with slow strokes of her fingertips. It’d take less than a minute for Rocco to encourage her hand lower, to tell her how much better it would feel— “Stop reminiscing! And she never mentioned any of them?” “No. Like I said, I didn’t want details.” Mimi sighed. “You need to talk to him.” “No. It’s what happened, it’s over. End of story.” “It’s not, because it’s right in front of you.” Anna started to feel frustrated. “Why are you taking his side?” “One, I’ve never liked Imogen. You know that. Two, you need to put this whole thing to bed. You’re clearly not sleeping properly, which means you’re going to kill his grandmother if she does the smallest 77

thing to annoy you and I don’t want to visit you in prison.” That blasted old woman. Maybe prison would be worth it. “Shall we order? We have to be at the show in a bit.” “Side steps,” Mimi singsonged. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable, but you know that you’ll never deal with it unless you actually deal with it. Talk to him last year already.” “You’re not my friend anymore,” Anna muttered.

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Rocco looked in the bottom of his bottle of beer. Beppe was pulling notes from a huge roll of cash. “Cannot believe G got us in here for free. Again.” “You think Gina still strips on the sly?” Beppe asked. Rocco appreciated that idea for a half second. “Doubt it. She lasted ten minutes, that’s what I can’t believe. Can’t see her trying to slide down the pole and falling asleep before she’s half finished.” “Good point. Do you think she’ll let me take a sample of blood? I’m thinking about sedatives.” “No.” Rocco choked a laugh. “What’s wrong with you?” Beppe demanded. “Is it still Anna?” Rocco sent him a dirty look. “No, SARS. Yes, of course it’s Anna!” Beppe ignored the taunt. “Nick can’t wait to be reacquainted, by the way. Get you back for the ‘hot for a black chick’ comment.” Rocco growled, “He can fuck off about that, I was winding him up. Easiest thing on the planet when it comes to Gina.”

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“I do miss those early days. That was fun. Good times.” Beppe sighed. “But you need to be prepared to get it fourfold. I think there were days when Tony was almost in tears when he first met Lyds coz of Nick. He’ll be happy to comedy roast you.” “Again, he can jog on.” Beppe rolled his shoulders. “Ah well. It’ll be fun for me anyways. Did you tell her about Imogen?” “Oh, get this. Imogen was in the office and was all imperious with me. Like she was defending her friend.” “That crazy bitch wouldn’t know a friend if it slapped her in the face with a dick. Did you tell Anna what she did at your birthday?” Rocco snorted. “Mate. Even I think you’re lying about that.” “Why would I lie? No one has ever done that to me. I have never dry heaved like that in my life.” Beppe made dramatic motions with his hands. “You know what? I can feel it repeating on me.” “Calm down.” “Would Anna listen to me?” “Nope,” Rocco said shortly, peeling at the beer label. “But then, today was the first time we’d had a

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conversation where she didn’t threaten to throw something at my head.” “Ah, well that can only be a good thing.” Beppe leaned into Rocco’s view. “Sorry to say, mate, but you may have to treat this like you did cheat.” “I did not touch that skank.” “That’s not my point. I mean, does she think at the end of the day that you’re sorry?” That gave him serious pause. He’d been so intent on proving his innocence to Anna, he hadn’t let her know that if he could have done anything differently, he would have told her he was sorry she’d been hurt. A stripper approached their table, with a glossy smile and perfectly mussed hair. “Private dance for you?” “No thank you, bedda.” Rocco sighed, taking one of Beppe's notes and tucking it into her g-string. She gave him a wink and moved on. What was it that another beer wouldn’t assist with? “I’m going for a slash.” “Nice,” Beppe answered. “Think about it.” “In the minute and a half it’ll take to go and come back? All right then.” “And cheer the fuck up too,” Beppe called out after him.

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 Beppe waited until Rocco was two tables away, then removed his friend’s phone. He hadn’t lifted a mobile in years. “Still got it,” he murmured to himself. Humming along to the Britney song that was playing in the background, he pulled up Anna’s number. Someone answered who was not Anna. “Is that Rocco?” “No, and you’re not Anna.” “No, Interested Party. She’s gone to get us a drink. Tell me where you are and I’ll get her to you guys. Things need straightening out.” “What a thoroughly intelligent woman you are. We’re at Sun Lounge. Fair warning, it’s a strip club. But to be honest, it was our friend’s idea and she’s a girl, a pregnant one at that, so. Yeah.” “Okay, I’ve got to go,” mystery woman said slowly. “See you in about half an hour.” “Later.” Beppe deftly ordered shots and enough beers to keep Rocco in one place for half an hour. Or at the very least at the edge of passed out. Maybe a little of that powder he’d been experimenting with would do the trick? No, he swore to himself, no more human 82

testing. Okay, just this once. It’d do Rocco the world of good.  Rocco wasn’t drunk, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t feel his legs. “Did you do something to my drink, Bep?” Beppe was nodding aimlessly at the table. “What? Nah, I didn’t say your mother was fit.” A very valid fear twisted Rocco’s stomach. “I am going to kill you.” “It’ll wear off in two minutes.” “That gives you a head start,” Rocco growled. Beppe took the hint and grabbed his jacket. Struggling to pull himself to his feet, he glanced up from the steady table he still had hands on and prayed he’d stay upright. All right, that couldn’t be Anna—he was hallucinating. There was no way Anna Taylor would be seen dead in a strip club. “What in the name of all that is fuggery?” No hallucinations. “Hey, Anna.” Anna turned to the silken-looking woman beside her. “Amelia Johnson, I am going to kill you.”

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“Have a nice evening,” Amelia gurned, turning tail and disappearing. Rocco lifted his fingers from the table, and his jelly legs completely collapsed from under him so that he found himself sitting down, looking up at Anna. Why did she have to be so beautiful? Her hair was loose to her shoulders, a red halo in the club’s lights, the faintest kiss of golden brown on her full lips and her shirt scandalously unbuttoned to show the bow on her bra. “Are you drunk?” she demanded, coming to stand beside his table. Her hip bumped the wood and his beer bottle wobbled. His reactions were so slow, he couldn’t save it from overturning. “Nope, a little drugged.” “Beppe?” she guessed. “Never leave a drink alone with him.” Her frown deepened. “Your friend set you up.” “So did yours.” “For which she shall die.” He smiled and prayed he wasn’t drooling. “She obviously thinks you and I have things to sort out.” Anna rubbed a hand over her face. “Again, she’ll be executed at a later date.”

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He wanted to touch her. God knows, he couldn’t feel the lower half of his body enough to get up and hold her, but at least he could have skin-to-skin contact, even for a moment. Then if she killed him, it’d be with a smile in his heart. “You should have some friends left.” “I’m running low on mates, yeah, whose fault is that?” she flared. The Bambi-eyed stripper was taking another circuit. She took one look at Anna’s face and carried on walking. “Annie, sit down a minute?” he asked gently. “Fuck no.” She closed her eyes briefly. “What do you want from me? What else do you want from me? Haven’t you had enough?” Rocco caught her free hand and pulled her closer so she could hear. “I want you to forgive me.” She laughed bitterly. “If you didn’t do anything wrong, why do you need my forgiveness?” “I did, because you left me. How is that anything but wrong? I’m sorry.” He palmed her cheek, petal soft to the touch, before he carefully lifted the hand tight in his own to his mouth. Raising his lashes, he saw her visibly swallow before she pulled away. The world was wrong. Not just because he realised Anna couldn’t bear to have him touch her, and not because he was 85

pretty sure the knowledge was killing him. Mainly it was because Giuseppe Nardiello had said something right. She didn’t know that he was sorry. If he could take it all back and never, ever see that look in Anna’s face, he would. Without a second thought. He needed the equivalent of hail Marys to wipe the slate clean with her. If she’d ever let him. “I can’t do this. I’m not.” She turned and disappeared into the crowd. If he could even crawl, he’d be after her right now.  Anna gulped lungfuls of air. She couldn’t cope with a contrite Rocco. It was all too genuine, and she couldn’t be that stupid woman who ignored all the warning signs and walked into a destructive relationship because he said he was sorry. Sorry? What the hell would she do with sorry? Oh God, her heart was collapsing in on itself. “The sun’ll come out, tomorrow!” Beppe’s rich baritone belted across the car park. “Hello, Annie.” “Don’t call me that,” she warned, even as she accepted a tight hug and a kiss to her cheek. “You’re

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such a degenerate, how are you still friends with Rocco?” “Shameful secrets.” Beppe shrugged. “I’m waiting for the memory loss to kick in and then I’ll go and get him. Speaking of Rocco, why aren’t you friends with him anymore? You know he swore off women for at least two years because of you.” Anna tutted, “Well then, he shouldn’t have banged my mate.” Beppe looked at her for a moment, amber eyes dark with secrets. “You really believed he’d do that? Annie, do you understand how important trust is to him?” “It is now because he was sprung like a chump!” “No, sweetheart, you know his dad was a serial cheat.” “Yes, it was obviously genetic.” “He saw what it did to his mum, and he would never do that to someone he loved. He’d chop a ball off before he betrayed you.” This was really starting to wind her up. Bros before hos. “My friend had no reason to lie!” Beppe laughed, slapping his thigh. “That crazy bitch had every reason to lie—she fucking hates you!” Anna jolted. “What? No she doesn’t.” 87

“She hated you, trust me. What did she have compared to you? Did she have her own home? No. You did. Did she have a close family who were all Cosby Show around her? No, but you did. I mean your parents actually like you.” “Er, I never let you near my parents.” “I spoke to them when you and Rocks were in the hot tub. I reassured them that you had arrived safe and well and you weren’t doing anything that a sexual deviant would be proud of.” No wonder they’d been off with her when she’d gotten back. Beppe! “Listen. They weren’t hurrying you to get the fuck out of their home and set up by yourself. You were and I suspect still are happy with yourself, your job, your money, your sexuality. Just for the cherry on the top of the sundae of ultimate my-life-is-better-than-yours, you had Rocky on your arm. Actually, you had him on a collar and dog leash because he would have rolled over for you.” Anna couldn’t speak. Beppe rubbed his temples. “I think I think too much. Do you ever feel like that?” “Just wait a minute, I mean, he didn’t deny it.” “What did he say?” “Trust me.” The one time she let him speak. Because she didn’t answer his phone calls, she also

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deleted his text messages, destroyed his e-mails and burned his letters and cards. Beppe shook his head. “He couldn’t deny it, Annie. Because if he wasn’t with crazy bitch, he was with us. If he was with us, then he was doing something pretty fucking bad and then he’d have been fucked.” “What,” Anna begged, eyes tightly closed, “are you talking about?” “Okay, if he was at home banging your crazy mate, then he definitely wasn’t anywhere doing anything illegal, so yeah, he couldn’t deny it.” “What, now you’re saying he lied so he could play boy gangster?” “No, so he could protect people he loves. Like his father’s stupid arse. Annie, don’t look so upset.” She was struggling not to burst into tears. “You would stick up for him. He’s the only one who understands you’re fucking mental.” “Fine, hold on.” He pulled out his phone and with one eye closed he tapped out a text message. “You should be more upset about your crappy friendship.” “She’s a much better friend now,” she said defensively, sniffing in the chilled night air.

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Beppe snorted. “Because she broke you two up. When was the last time you two had a girly pillow fight and talked about your feelings?” Anna eyed him with distaste. “You know that doesn’t happen.” “Whine about your feelings?” “Have naked pillow fights.” Beppe grinned. “Naked, eh?” His phone trilled. “Here we are—look.” She squinted at his phone. Someone called Boss DC. “Can’t talk about that, Bep.” Anal Lover. Anna didn’t want to know who that was. “I thought we said we were letting crazy stalker handle that? Is she back? Fuck, man that bitch is psycho.” Cougar ‘Demi Moore’ Mamione: “Giuseppe, he was doing what he needed to for his family. I feel sorry for him every day, but he saved his family from something much worse.” Beppe took the phone back. “Convinced?” “I don’t know what the hell’s going on. And it was so long ago, Beppe. Plus you’re his best friend, so what’s one more lie on top of the others?” “It’s how that lie affects the rest of a person’s life. Talk to crazy bitch.” 90

“Stop calling her that.” Beppe stretched. “I love a shaved pussy as much as the next man, but I don’t like seeing it waved in my face at my friend’s birthday.” Anna felt sick. “What on earth?” “Rocky’s birthday. He had that whole Moroccan place hired out, remember? Two in the morning. I was sitting by the shisha pipes and she hooked her leg over my shoulder, no knickers on, waved her cunt in my face and asked me why I didn’t want it. I told her I don’t play with my food. I’ve still got photos.” He looked thoughtful. “I should take that up again. Photography. I was really good at it.” “There’s something wrong with you.” “Ask her about it, she wasn’t that drunk. What she doing with herself now? Married?” “Yeah.” “Working?” “Umm...” “Cheating?” Goddammit. “Couldn’t say.” He shook his head again. “Women like her are never satisfied. She’s probably got a sexual fixation on you. Maybe the truth will set her free!”

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“All right, I will talk to her, only to get you and your mate to shut up! She made promises when we started being friends again, and it’s beyond me why anyone would lie about something like that.” Beppe sighed. “For a solicitor, Annie, that is a terrible argument missing one basic fact. Humans, particularly of the female persuasion, do crazy shit. Rationality need not apply. You know what, this is my second time at a strip club with a woman, and my friend is spoiling it for me. Are you coming in for a beer or do you want a cab?” Her head was banging with so much information. “I need to go home.” Beppe caught her hand and jogged her to the main road until he saw the light of a black cab. “We need to go out again.” “I don’t like your friends,” Anna said with a laugh. “You like my friend too much, that’s the problem.” He bundled her inside and slammed the door shut. “See you later.” The cab zoomed off toward the river, nearly sending Anna to the cab floor. “Slow down, will you!” “Sorry!” the cabbie yelled over his shoulder. “Last drive of the day.” 92

It took a minute and a half of thought before she blurted, “If you found out something about your partner and it meant you were wrong about something, what would you do?” “That’s a bit cryptic, innit? I’ve been with my partner for a long time. He and I talk. We have to. It’s so easy for things to build up and build up until you just sodding hate each other. Best advice I ever got was from an old boss who used to run the gay bar on Clapham High Street. Never let the sun go down on a fight. And it’s worked.” “Really?” The cabbie smirked. “I get the feeling you’re used to giving advice rather than taking it.” Anna glanced down at her legs and saw a run in her stockings. “You’d be right.”

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Anna called Mimi, who was for once in between patients. “I’ve got a job offer,” Mimi said before Anna could voice her annoyance. “What? Really?” “Really. Private hospital, insurance covered, a team of nurses and specialist surgeons, manager, insane amount of money and benefits. Plus we can do work for charitable organisations.” “What’s the catch?” Anna frowned. Mimi had wanted to move into private work for a while, but it was difficult finding the operations that were willing to fund such a momentous and financial burden. “It involves your ex’s friend. Beppe.” “Get out of it,” Anna said without hesitation. “I know, that man is rather mentally damaged, but who isn’t? He sounds quite sexy on the phone, but you know if you tell anyone I said that, you won’t be needing your spleen or your lungs.” “Right,” Anna snorted, used to Mimi’s threats. “What’s the contract like? Can I have a look?” “Of course! That’s why I’m friends with you.” “And I thought it was my sparkling personality. There’ll be a catch somewhere.” 94

“There always is,” Mimi sighed. “Anyways, what did you want to talk to me about? You called me, right?” “You set me up. You owe me. Maybe I’ll slip in a clause to your contract for twenty-five percent of your pay to come directly to me each month.” Mimi grumbled, “I did that for your own good.” “Maybe having twenty-five percent less of a salary is for your own good.” “Oh stop being so stubborn! You want him to be right, I can tell, I can read you, child. Because if he’s right and Imogen’s a liar that means you can jump back on that Italian sausage straight away.” “One, disgusting language. Two, why would Imogen lie?” “Because she’s Imogen! Her life has no meaning unless she’s causing drama and getting attention, who knows.” “It’s not about getting back with him, there are serious issues here.” “No there aren’t. What you’re worried about is people judging you for getting back together with a man who apparently cheated on you. You’ve built a career on being a very strong, very capable woman. Accepting a cheat goes against the grain, when really, 95

my lovely, it’s fuck all to do with anyone else but you and Italian sausage.” “Stop it, Meems.” She couldn’t really respond because it was all very true. What did it make her if she just took him back? Just the fact that she was thinking about it really, really irritated her. “Other than the obvious, what else was going on in your relationship?” Mimi asked. “Nothing! It was all fine. Perfect, in fact. That’s what I didn’t understand. There was nothing wrong with us, we were amazing together. But cheating is just a big, fat no no.” “Because?” Mimi enquired silkily. “What do you mean because?” “Why is it a no no? Why can’t you start over?” “I’m not a mug,” Anna snapped. “I don’t want anyone thinking I’m a fool because I’m swayed by a pretty face, a fat wallet and a big dick. You know what, my dad has managed thirty-eight years being married to the same woman, and he’s never given anyone else a second look. Rocco flaming Mamione couldn’t manage eight months. Am I really going to explain that to my parents? If he couldn’t keep it under wraps when we were just boyfriend and girlfriend, why would he if we were married?” 96

“Straight to marriage, eh?” “Meems, come on! You know what I mean. Nothing is different from where we were six years ago.” “That’s not true. You’re a different person. I will fully admit that I’m a different person. Wiser now than six years ago. It takes time. Maybe he’s matured, maybe he’s watched his friends grow up and there’s been enough loneliness for him to appreciate just what he lost when you two broke up.” Anna shook her head, tugging on her curls in frustration. “Once a cheat…” Mimi made a wincing noise. “Eh, not strictly true. I only did it the once.” “No. Fucking. Way.” “We all make mistakes. And I regret it. Doesn’t mean I should be staked at the heart.” “You’re different.” “How?” “Well, you’re you. And you’ve carried some serious responsibilities and probably you needed a release—you have been with some useless men in your time.”

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Mimi laughed. “You’re making excuses for me, which is nice, but then if you can forgive me an indiscretion, what’s holding you back with Rocco?” “I said, you’re different.” “Well if it was me, what would I need to do to prove I was sorry?” “Tell the truth,” Anna blurted. “Don’t play around with me. Give me a reason to show that you are worth my trust because you’ve killed it.” “Anna Taylor, you are an advocate. Open your mouth and tell him that. The reason you cannot keep to a relationship is because a) the guy’s got an impossible standard to meet with your parents, and b) Rocco Mamione is just... My God,” Mimi breathed, “I’d ruin him.” “Amelia!” Anna gasped. “For life.” “Hey, hey, hey! Lost a friend over him, remember?” “Sorry. And c) you’ll never be able to trust anyone else ever until you face what went wrong with you and Rocco. The decision has always remained with you.” “I know, but he shouldn’t be pushing it with gifts.” She looked over and glared at the huge stuffed 98

cuddly bear, holding a heart with I’m sorry stitched onto it that had arrived first thing that morning. “What gifts?” “Teddy bears.” Mimi laughed. “He knows you.” “He’s grasping,” she retorted. The bear’s sad eyes looked even sadder for a moment. “He’s got you down pat.” “Stop defending him or I’ll send the bear to you with parts missing.” Mimi laughed harder. “That’s the most fucked up thing I’ve heard today.” “Not ever?” “I work in a hospital, honey, so no.” “But you know I’m not messing around now.” Mimi sighed. “Yes, all right, do a Godfather on your bear, but stop whining. You are an articulate woman. Please put that talent to good use and have a chat. Nothing is ever black or white when it comes to love. You know that.” “All right, fine!” Anna huffed. “Good,” Mimi said smugly. “I like when you acknowledge my superior brain.”

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They ended the call and Anna again looked at the bear. “God’s sake, stop staring at me, or you’re getting cut up and sold to a pet shop for cage linings.” The bear looked teary eyed in a certain light, which disturbed her greatly. Articulate or no, right now, with that bear giving her the sad face, she couldn’t face Rocco quite yet.  Rocco felt disgusting. Like he was wallowing in every vile thing possible. When his head rolled with eye-watering pain, he sent Beppe a text. When I am better, you will die. To which Beppe replied: Either have sex or drink mango juice. Those are the only cures at the moment. I’m working on the others. You’re a cock. “Mango juice it is then,” he murmured to himself. Surprisingly, within forty-five minutes, he was feeling decent enough to draft a letter to his client’s previous solicitors. “Dear Sirs, Please do enlighten me as to where you obtained your knowledge of the law, as at the present time, your defence has me thoroughly convinced that you were educated by the rats that run around the rear of the Old Bailey.” 100

Not that he would send it, but he needed to vent for a few paragraphs and then he would return something less aggravating rather, more along the lines of “thank you for allowing me to keep this man out of prison. If you had continued to represent him, he would have been guaranteed a place in Wakefield prison.” Definitely not that either. What he really wanted to do was think on how to encourage Anna to talk to him. Regain her trust. Re-establish their relationship. He had to treat this as though he had done something wrong, because of the end result. He had lost the woman he loved. Having never been a cheater, he was at a loss as to what he could do to start. His father had always made up with flowers and one of the gateaux from Nonna’s deli. The flowers were understandable, but the cake from Nonna was just a spit in the face, especially when his father was so very aware that his wife and mother clashed over desserts. Hopefully Anna’s bear had turned up and she hadn’t ripped it into fluffy pieces. He reached over to pick up the phone and heard a commotion outside his office. Hovering all of three inches above the seat of his chair, Rocco was only partly surprised when Enzo stormed inside, waving 101

the crisp letterhead of the firm in his hand. He really needed to speak to Charles about security. “What the fuck is this?” he yelled. Rocco got to his feet and closed the door behind him. “Shut up.” “This is all you, isn’t it?” he hissed, the warning to be quiet forcing him to lower his tone. “You really think I give a shit about a fucking tribunal? You can’t do this!” “But I can,” Rocco said. “I know you can’t—this shit does not fly with the Da Canavezes. You’re such a self-righteous dick. Who are you anyway?” Rocco found that hilarious. “Me? You realise that the only reason you even have any money is because my father practically put the cash in your father’s pocket and kept his mouth shut when he got caught. You think your family has earned anything without people like me covering your hairy arses?” Enzo snorted. “And what? You’re looking for a thank you? It’s your job, you’re supposed to keep things quiet, but this is insane!” He waved the letter in Rocco’s face once again. Rocco caught his wrist until he heard a satisfying crack.

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“Back. Off.” Enzo retreated a few steps as soon as he was released. His stupidity was really starting to wear thin. “You should understand something very simple. If I wasn’t permitted to do this, I wouldn’t be doing this. Quite frankly, you wouldn’t be breathing.” “You can’t sue me!” Rocco shrugged. “Then give my grandmother what she’s asked for.” Knowing Anna, she’d have demanded the sky and a little bit of Pluto while she was at it. Enzo looked like he was about to start an argument, but Rocco really wasn’t in the most patient frame of mind. “Don’t whine to me. If you think I’ve stepped out of line, go ask where you think you should ask. Now get out of my office. You’re making it look untidy.” With a growl, Enzo stalked out. “Prick,” Rocco muttered under his breath. Too irritated to go back to work, he instead picked up his phone and started playing Angry Birds just to calm down. “Ten minutes,” he promised himself. “Then I’ll go back to earning my status.”

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“Who?” Anna asked, into her intercom. She was just in the middle of doing her “angry” draft, where she freely wrote what she really wanted to say either to the court or the other side and sometimes her client before she modified it for human consumption. Partway through reading it back, calling the other solicitors “mental retards who couldn’t find the Employment Act if it was rammed into their bowels” seemed a fair judgement. It was really the best way to get Rocco and the feel of his lips on her hand out of her mushy head. Bernie interrupted her efforts to tell her there was an Enzo Vitale waiting for her. “Oh!” Nonna’s boss…old boss. Something or other, she didn’t really know how to refer to him other than what Nonna kept saying about him in Sicilian dialect—fetuso. Not particularly friendly. Batty old woman. She really would have to reply to that card Nonna had sent her inviting her to try some cakes. She really did fancy some cake. “Oh, all right. This once.” The door opened and a man who obviously had a height complex walked in. “Anna Taylor?”

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“Yes, hello.” Politeness forced her to stand up and offer her hand. She sat back down behind her desk and looked at him expectantly. Well? “I asked someone who the reference AT was and I was directed here.” Don’t call him fetuso, he’ll know what that means... “What can I do for you?” “I believe you need to speak to your client, make her understand that this claim is pretty pointless.” Anna looked to the side, an automatic reaction to find another pair of eyes as filled with incredulity as her own were. “Why on earth would I do that?” “It’s not how things are done,” he said with such oily slickness, Anna felt the need to wipe her hands. “Well, according to the laws of this country, it is how things are done. I’ve written a grievance letter to you on my client’s behalf. You need to respond to that. If you don’t or we can’t come to a satisfactory arrangement, we’re filing our claim with the Tribunal. I thought that was pretty clear in the letter.” “Maybe she was not a good worker—” “You should have taken her to a meeting. She worked for that deli for thirty years without a single disciplinary.” “But she’s a woman of advanced years...” 105

“Age discrimination.” “It seemed—” “Outside of the range of reasonable responses. See you’re going to make it very easy for a judge to slap you upside the head with the procedure book. If I were you, I’d speak to some solicitors, not me, and come to a figure such as the one I’ve indicated in the letter. Not the grievance, the one I sent a few days ago.” Enzo’s face went purple. “I am not paying that old bitch anything.” Anna sent him a blank smile. “Then be prepared to be very publically corrected about what you should and should not do with employees. I don’t think I can be of any more help to you.” She turned back to her computer and typed hard, attempting to dispel the faint trembling in her fingers from quite violent irritation at the man’s presence. Enzo slammed the letter on Anna’s desk. “You have no idea who I am, do you? Things like this get people like you hurt.” Anna slowly got to her feet. “I’m going to ask you once. Leave.”

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He smirked. “Talk to your client. Ask her who the Vitale family is. What they do. See if that will jog her memory.” She circled her desk to the door and held it open in invitation. “I don’t think you have two brain cells to rub together for a spark enough to understand what I am saying. Get out of my office, please. Get some solicitors. Give my client what she wants. Goodbye, sir.” Enzo finally took the hammer to the head and headed to the door. “Whatever she’s paid you or Rocco Mamione, it’s not enough. They’re a family full of pathetic losers who’ve always rode on others’ coattails. All I did was cut her off. You’ll see you’re backing the wrong horse. I hope you see sense before it’s too late.” “Bye, little man,” Anna said firmly, slamming the door behind him. Fine. She’d take the hint. Stuffing the bear under her desk and out of sight, she picked up the phone. “Mamione, you’ve got some explaining to do. My office. Now.” 

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Rocco took the mango juice with him. He had a bad feeling the after effects of Beppe’s wonder drug were about to repeat on him. “Afternoon, Ms. Taylor,” he said quietly. Anna opened her mouth and then frowned at his glass. “Cure?” “If you really want to help me, feel free to lock your door and let me make love to you.” Anna’s lips parted and for the first time in a long time, she seemed to be at a loss for words. He calmly drank the juice, waiting for her to prepare some sort of response. “Do you think I’m going to say ‘why not?’” “That’d be nice.” He grinned. “Your little smart skirt would look very enticing around your waist.” Anna rubbed her eyes. “You know what, you’ll be really sorry if I complain to HR about sexual harassment.” “Ah, that.” He nodded. “Prior relationship doesn’t count?” “No,” Anna said bluntly. He couldn’t help it, his eyes went straight down to her chest and saw two rather obvious points of disagreement. “Fair enough, Ms. Taylor. What have you summoned me for?” “Did Enzo Vitale come and see you a while ago?” 108

Rocco’s stomach flashed with fear and rage. “He came to you?” “You could have warned me. Spiteful little prick. What’s his problem with you? He basically called you and Nonna bottom feeders.” Rocco paused. Whatever he told her from now on would put her right between him and any interested parties. “Give me some new client forms to sign.” “What?” “Privilege. That way if anyone asks you, you’re protected.” She stared at him. “Rocky, it’s that bad?” He nearly laughed. She hadn’t called him Rocky in years. “I know what you value, and this will make sure that nothing I tell you will compromise your integrity.” “So you think I can’t keep a secret? That I’ll be down the nearest police station to shop you? Am I really that untrustworthy?” He placed the glass on the floor and stood up to catch her arms in his hands. Rubbing soothingly, he bent to catch her eyes. “It’s because you’re a good person. Who doesn’t need to know outside the protection of client-solicitor privilege.” 109

He felt heat at either side of his waist and looked down to see that she had her palms braced on his torso. “No. Tell me or not at all.” “It’s not just me, Annie. It’s my family, my nonna, my mum, my dad. It’s my friends, Beppe included. I can’t risk all of that on—” “On whether I’ll use it to get back at you?” she released with a disgusted breath. “You really don’t know me. I don’t think you ever did. When I was at the police station that night, I lied. Before I even knew what was going on, I lied. Because I thought I could help you.” “And I don’t want you to do that again. I watched my mother sacrifice everything for my father. Her own family, her religion. I couldn’t let you do that for me.” “This isn’t talking, Rocco, this is you putting me in an impossible situation. It’s also showing me that yet again, it’s family first for you and everything else on the other side of the world, in darkness.” “Annie, do you know that you were followed by the police for two weeks after I was arrested?” He watched her pupils enlarge. “If you didn’t know, then you wouldn’t have to lie. Not to help me.”

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He felt her making fists in his shirt. “You should have given me a heads-up. A choice.” His hand drifted over her butter-soft curls. “Yes, I realise that you’re all for autonomy, but this job is hard enough to keep secrets without doing it for your boyfriend as well.” “You’re such a dick,” she fumed. “You weren’t just my boyfriend—I loved you!” That spark, that hint of the passion she’d felt for him was like a knife in the gut. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong type of hangover, but it was a long time coming. He kissed her. A kiss to do all the talking for him. Where he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulled her into his body and pressed his lips to hers. The kind of kiss that made her soften, moan and curl her arms around his neck, let him kiss her until she kissed him back.. With a growl, he parted his thighs and cradled her against his growing erection. Too long. It had been far too long since he’d touched her. He felt for the clip in her hair, released it and threw it somewhere across the room. Not waiting to hear even a murmur of a protest, he simply kissed her harder. Just as he thought he was making things better, Anna pulled back and gave him an eyewatering slap. 111

“What the—” “That’s been six years stewing, mate, you know that,” she retorted. “I’ll get the forms.” She pushed him away, straightened her skirt and left the office. Rubbing his cheek, he didn’t know whether to be genuinely worried or start laughing. “My hair is fine,” she grumbled at her secretary before she came back and placed the forms in front of him. Rather than sitting next to him, she put the desk between their bodies. Rocco struggled not to smile and instead filled out the forms. Once he’d signed the last page, he shifted them toward Anna and told her everything. Beginning to end. To her credit, she didn’t ask questions but like a good lawyer, she waited with her fingers steepled against her mouth until he’d finished. “Is your dad out of prison?” “Came out about eight months ago. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. He still keeps to the prison routine and only really goes out to go to church. He’s found Christ again.” “I didn’t know he was missing,” Anna said dryly. “Do you know why Imogen said what she did?”

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Rocco released a pent-up breath. “It didn’t occur to me at the time. But my boss made sure she was compensated.” “How?” “Half a million pounds.” Anna rubbed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Let me guess, she told you she came into money? Some long-lost aunt died or something?” “Grandfather.” Anna sighed. “But you know this is your fault as well. You should have trusted me.” He leaned across the desk and pulled her hand away from her face. “I know.” Gently, he stroked his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. It was blissful just to be able to touch her again, although he was very appreciative that it didn’t involve violence on her part. There was a knock on the door. Anna pulled her hand away. Bernie popped her head around the door. “Sorry to interrupt. Mr. Mamione, your next appointment is waiting for you.” “I’ll be one minute, thank you, Bernie.” The woman blushed a little and then closed the door. Anna collected the forms and placed them inside a folder, before shoving them into her desk drawer.

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“I’ll put them in my safe later on. I didn’t write anything down.” “It’s fine.” “Just so you know, this doesn’t really change anything.” Oh, his poor, sweet deluded Anna. “Yes it does. Because it means we can start over.” “But it’s all—” “Arguing with me, as much as it turns me on, isn’t going to make a difference. Whatever I need to do, whatever mountains I have to move, time machines to build, humble pies to eat, I’ll do it. I love you. I didn’t stop.” Ever eloquent, Anna made an “o” shape with her lips. He grinned. “Think on it.”

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Struggling with the stupid bear, Anna headed for the lift. In the aftermath of the madness with Enzo and Rocco, Anna was behind with everything. God, Rocco. With the kiss, and the laying his soul bare for her and the goddamn kiss. E-mails had piled up and defences that needed to be drafted had shamed her with their existence on her to-do list, while that kiss replayed in her head. To make matters worse, she’d committed to a seminar for HR the next day. So she had freaking homework. She hated homework. What she wanted to do was have a hot bath, a glass of wine and a Tweet moment. Have some alone time to fully appreciate just how easily Rocco’s lips alone could bring her to a peak of pleasure. Who was still at the office at nine thirty at night? She used the bear’s butt to press the lift call button. “Going home so late?” The bear did an involuntary star jump at Rocco’s appearance. Jesus, he really was affiliated with the devil. “Where the hell did you spring from?” “Charles’ office. We were having a chat. I’ve decided I like his office better. He’s not keen on swapping, but I can convince him.” 115

Anna frowned over the bear’s ears. “You weren’t hovering about?” “I’ve got work to do and I do prefer home to this place. As Mr. Bear there will soon appreciate. I’m quite glad you haven’t thrown him out of the nearest window.” “And you know he’s a he because?” “It’s a sorry bear,” he mocked, “it’s going to be a he.” The lift doors opened and he stepped to one side to let her in first. To be honest, she didn’t want to be alone with him, now that she could still taste his kiss and recall a thousand others before it. “You shouldn’t buy me gifts,” she said abruptly. Rocco raised his eyebrows. “Why ever not?” “Because you’re acting like a guilty man,” she warned. “Why would I ever take another gift from you if I feel you’re trying to make up for something you’ve done wrong?” Rocco stared at her for a stark second before he turned and pressed the stop button. The lift came to a juddering halt, lights flickering off and on. “What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed at his back. The telephone in the lift rang, and calmly he answered it. “No, no idea what happened. Ten minutes? We’ll be fine. It’s just two of us. All right.” 116

He placed the phone down and turned back to her. The look on his face made Anna clutch the bear defensively in front of her. “What are you doing?” she repeated. Nothing in the way he approached her made her feel any wiser about getting into a confined space with him. He removed the bear from her arms and chucked the poor thing to the other side of the lift. Her file case and bag suffered the same fate. That look did not bode well for her, that one there, where his eyelashes cast dark shadows over his cheekbones. Satan would be proud of his advocate. “What would you like from me instead, Tempesta?” he asked softly, edging her back into the wall of the lift with the hard width of his body. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. His eye line was level with her mouth. No, no, no. “And move yourself away somewhere! I want to go home. You’re causing me grief.” He lifted his gaze from her lips to her temple. “Good,” he claimed, pushing a curl from her forehead with a thumb. “What?” “Good. I’m glad I’m causing you grief. It means you’re thinking about me.” 117

“Not that way, mate.” He shook his head. “Annie. You have a duty to uphold your integrity. What you just said was an affront to your profession.” “Are you calling me a liar?” she spluttered. He needed to move away—she was hot all over, and the lift was normally cool as a freezer. She tried to push him to the other side of the lift, but the smug bastard had height, weight and sheer stubbornness on his side. “I am not lying, just stop it. You’re not helping with this display of Neanderthal.” “Tell me what will,” he asked, threading his fingers through her own and curling her arms behind her back. “I thought you loved teddy bears.” “No fucking teddy bears,” she heaved. “Real teddy bears, then?” he suggested, pulling her closer. As soon as he did, she genuinely forgot to breathe. With her hands caught in his and crossed at the top of her bottom, Rocco flexed his fingers against her own, every exhalation pressing his hardened cock firmly against her belly. In the early days, after the break-up, she’d often had fantasies where she’d publically reject him, humiliate him with her dismissal. He’d be on his knees for her and she’d laugh in his face. Her fantasies 118

conveniently excluded the simple fact that he was Rocco Mamione. And the only time he’d ever been on his knees before her was to bury his face in her pussy. “This is going to keep happening,” he told her lightly, his lips brushing over her own. Her mouth watered with the taste of him. “You holding me down?” She felt his smile. He was too close for her to even see it. “Holding you down, tying you up, making you wet. It’s just up to you where it happens.” The last word was smothered in a laugh. “I’m sorry, I tried to say that with a straight face.” “How have you been raised in this century?” she asked, trying to inject disgust into her tone, but he was right, the bastard. “I’m just making myself clear. Everyone else knows that, including you. It’s just that pretty little mouth of yours and all those clever little words that keep falling out of it.” He released one hand and his own boldly slid inside the waistband of her skirt and delved inside her damp panties. The yelp that burst from Anna’s mouth could have been heard on every single floor of the office block. Now he knew. How right he was, how he just needed to look at her and she was ready for him. 119

“I love that pretty mouth. I love how that pretty mouth looks filled with my cock.” Two fingers rippled over her pussy, slipping with ease between her lips only to sink inside her. Her heart seized in her throat before thundering in her chest and beating faster between her legs. Holy hell, she couldn’t have said a word, even if she’d wanted to. Rocco swooped down and pressed his mouth to hers. Her free hand delved into his hair, mussing every immaculate strand, and kissed him harder. She wanted to completely merge with him. Good didn’t even begin to describe how she felt, with his thick fingers thrusting inside her pussy. Mad was more like it, with him taunting her as he coaxed her closer and closer to release. God, she wished he’d just unzip and fuck her. As much as she loved a teddy bear, he should have done this a while ago. She arched her body into his hand, rocking against him to race to her deserved orgasm. Her arm, still locked behind her back and intertwined with Rocco’s, started to ache. But it kept him close to her. It was all she wanted. His hand moved more frantically against her, and the heat that suddenly swamped her body made her collapse against him even as the orgasm tore through her. That 120

long-noted scream was muffled by his mouth as he didn’t lift his lips a millimetre from hers. The lift juddered and started moving down. “Shit!” Anna swore, pushing him from her and righting her clothing. Blasted man made her feel like a teenage girl who was desperate to get fingered. “I liked giving you that gift,” he said mildly. “Shut up,” she muttered, picking up her bag and file case as the lift levelled with the ground floor. Rocco scooped up the bear. The security guard beamed at them. “That wasn’t too bad for you?” She felt Rocco’s glance on her, but she refused to look at him. Her embarrassment was going to peak if that guard said a thing about noises or what the lift smelled like. “Much appreciated.” “Thanks,” Anna grumbled, skidding past him and hurrying for cooler, sense-laden air. “Annie,” Rocco called. She wasn’t a coward by anyone’s standards so she’d face him. Turning with her most professional smile, the one she reserved for clients she really couldn’t stand, she looked expectantly at him. “Your bear.” “I was going to give it to a charity shop.” 121

He didn’t look his usual immaculate self, and she did want to straighten his hair and smooth the creases in his jacket. “Keep it. Tell me the shop and I’ll make a donation.” “Stop it,” she growled. “You’ve given me about a second to think about things.” “I wanted to give you something else to think about. Wouldn’t you like to have me whenever you wanted, or rather, whenever I wanted?” Yes! “No.” “Annie,” he admonished. Her eyes followed the shape his mouth made forming her name. “Whatever is holding you back, go and do it. Because if you keep denying me, I’ll end up bending you over the nearest surface, and I don’t think anyone at Piper & Co. is ready for that.” “I fucking hate you,” she fumed. “Shall I drop you home?” “It’s the fucking least you can do, and if you talk the whole journey, you won’t have anything to bend me over with.” “What? My cock or my arms?” he asked mildly, heading to the car park. “Both, you utter dick.”

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He smiled. Everyone knew that was the worst thing. Because when he stopped talking, he planned, and that never worked out well for anyone but him. Unless he was thinking of how to finish what they started in the lift in the back of his car. Anna, Anna, Anna! Stop being a whore for this man and sort yourself out.

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Imogen had been avoiding her calls. It wasn’t as if Anna was looking for Imogen’s approval for whatever happened next between her and Rocco. Good lord, her head was full of the possibilities of her and Rocco, but there were things that needed to be said. She called Neil, Imogen’s husband, and asked him when she was going to be at home. “I don’t really know,” he said with a shrug in his voice. “I can never tell these days. She changes her plans left and right.” “I’ll take a chance,” Anna replied. She couldn’t reassure him, knowing full well their relationship was heading for the tragic. Imogen lived in Kensington courtesy of her husband’s bonus and the sale of the flat that she’d bought with her “inheritance” money. Despite never being one to run from confrontation, a part of Anna really wanted to go home and pretend this wasn’t happening. She’d worked hard to reestablish her friendship with Imogen, only for it to be blown apart by the truth. It better be the truth, or Rocco Mamione would not be seeing his next birthday.

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Imogen had a new nanny, Anna noticed as a strange youngish woman opened the door. “I’m here to see Imogen?” “Come in,” she muttered. “I’m off.” The nanny shrugged on her coat and skipped down the stairs. Imogen came to the door, her son in her arms. “If I catch you around here again, I’ll call the police! Oh, Anna. Hi.” “What’s going on?” “You may as well come in,” Imogen huffed, handing over the baby and closing the door behind Anna unceremoniously. The baby looked up at her, confused at the change. With a sigh, Anna followed Imogen into the kitchen. “Drink?” “I thought you were breastfeeding,” Anna said, frowning as she put her bag down on the breakfast bar without letting the baby go. “That’s what Neil wanted. I asked Neil if he wanted our child to die from silicone poisoning. End of argument.” Anna glanced up. “What? When the hell?” “You thought I went up two cup sizes naturally?”

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“I thought you were wearing a better bra plus inserts,” Anna rejoined. “Plus weren’t you the one who said that men know when a woman’s had a boob job?” Imogen curved her palms over her chest. “These implants would give a surgeon a run for his money in guessing.” The baby snuggled against Anna’s au natural chest and breathed out gently as Imogen poured out two glasses of wine. “So, are you still seeing Corleone?” Anna had forgotten Imogen had called him that. “At work, yes.” Imogen shook her head, taking a gulp of wine. “I don’t believe you’d be that stupid.” “Because I work with him?” “That you’d even entertain a conversation with him after what he did!” “After what you both did?” Anna suggested. “I assume it was the both of you, and you weren’t comatose when it happened.” “Course not,” Imogen snapped. “He wasn’t even that good.” Okay, now Anna knew she was lying. “Hmm,” she agreed. “Very self-focused.” “Absolutely.”

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“There were times I genuinely expected him to start shouting out his own name,” Anna said leadingly. “He is so vain.” “I figured it comes from having ink so close to his cock.” “What ink?” Imogen asked without a beat. Anna lifted her lashes from the baby’s contented face to Imogen’s flushed one. “You couldn’t have missed that tattoo.” Imogen flapped a hand. “It was so long ago, and there were so many before I settled for Neil, so...” “That just makes me think you always sleep with your friend’s boyfriends. I thought for the sacrifice, you’d remember something.” “Like what?” “You don’t remember who approached who?” “He came to my house.” “What for?” “He said he wanted to study.” “Really?” “Well I know it was a lie now,” Imogen blustered. “So I let him in.” “You had sex, at your parents’ house.” This was really starting to make Anna wish she’d interrogated her six years ago. 127

“They weren’t in.” “Where’d they go?” Imogen shrugged. “Where they always go on a Tuesday.” Anna shook her head. “It wasn’t a Tuesday, Imogen. Tuesdays Rocco always spent with his mates. No fail. Try again.” “I know they were at bingo, so maybe it was a Thursday. I told you it was a long time ago.” “It was a Wednesday,” Anna said quietly. “And you’re so sure?” “I know the date to the second things happened on that day.” Anna’s voice brokered no argument. “Fine, it was Wednesday.” “Then how could you have sex at your parents’ house when they barely let me inside to drop off a book?” Imogen floundered. “They weren’t there!” “Where did they go?” “I’m not their keeper!” “I think you’re lying,” Anna whispered, looking up again. “Why would I lie?” She shrugged. “How much is an alibi worth? When you’re struggling with debts, staying in a house 128

where you can barely breathe without upsetting your parents, when you’d love to do anything but the course you’re doing, how much would an alibi be worth to you then? Certainly worth more than a friendship.” “Don’t judge me!” Imogen hissed. “I did you a fucking favour!” “How?” Anna felt like she was at court, with a particularly stupid witness who was stepping into all the right potholes. “That guy swanned about like he could have any pussy he wanted. I got you out before you were even serious.” “And you made that decision for me based on what? His behaviour toward me, his attitude toward other girls, or was it that he didn’t give you a second glance?” Imogen growled, “I don’t know why you’re bringing it up now, it’s not like I can change any of it.” “You can tell the truth,” Anna suggested sarcastically. “It’s bullshit. You want to believe that Rocco gave me five hundred grand to get him out of a tight spot. Go ahead, be that fucking stupid.” Anna uncurled the baby’s hand from her finger. “What an accurate-sounding figure. Interesting, as I 129

never said how much.” Imogen gave a groan of frustration and for a moment, Anna pitied her. “You can tell me what happened. Nothing’s going to happen to you.” “You’re so sure?” Imogen sneered. “Carry on with that attitude and I’ll put in a personal request.” Anna’s smile flicked on and off like a light switch. “Talk.” Deflated, Imogen spoke with weariness, “I, er... I saw him being marched off into a police car two streets from the college. I was on my way home. I knew he had money, everyone knew he had money. The nearest station to the college was Charing Cross, so I went there and asked for him. When they confirmed, I left, dropped a call to the station and said that he was with me the night before. Either someone had bugged the station or they had links there already, because an hour later I got a call from someone saying if I kept to the story, I’d be compensated. I asked for half a million. Once Rocco was released I got half. The other half when the case against Rocco was dropped.” Her bravado was breathtaking. Imogen had always been aware of whatever could be advantageous for her, so what could one do but admire her for the

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sheer fucking balls on the woman? “And I didn’t cross your mind once?” “Oh fuck off with your sanctimony!” Imogen spat. “You had everything, you were fine! You got the top marks, you fucked off on holiday and apparently banged your way through Malia. That money was my out and I will not apologise for it. I said I did you a favour and I meant it. You really think that Rocco’s mother would want a black girl for a daughter-in-law? I know what that type of women are like—they’re all smiling on the outside and massive fascist racists on the inside.” Now it was just ugly. Anna handed her back the baby. Imogen needed to pray to God every day that she’d given birth because otherwise, that girl would be dead. “Really, you’re going to play that card with me? You don’t think in my thirty-two years I’ve never encountered a bigot? You didn’t possibly think I could handle myself in that sort of situation, when the main reason people don’t like me is because I’m not shy about telling people where things are? Please, I am begging you, don’t pretend you did any of this for me. It wasn’t at all. Getting a one-up on me was just bonus to getting away from your parents. I have a feeling the only reason you even got back in touch with me in the 131

first place was to get a bit of a hard-on about what you did and the fact you got away with it.” Anna breathed a disbelieving laugh. “God, I really must have hit you hard that night. Oh, and while we’re at it? Let me clear up a little geography for you. Rocco’s mother is from Morocco. You know where Morocco is? Let’s say it together: Africa.” She picked up her bag and looked Imogen up and down. It was a visual reminder to never, ever doubt her own instincts, which had categorically told her to get fucking rid. “I hope you enjoyed every last penny of that five hundred thousand.” The truth. The most dissatisfying and disappointing meal she’d ever had.  Her head feeling like it was full of static, Anna didn’t know she was at Rocco’s house until he opened the door. “Hi!” he beamed at her, his dark eyes glowing with pleasure. Is that really for me? she thought. The fight with Imogen was still rippling over her, and she really was finding it difficult to form words. “Are you okay, Annie?” “Who is it?” Anna heard Nonna yell from inside. 132

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Rocco lifted a brow. “Who the hell are you and what did you do with Anna Taylor?” “What?” “You apologised,” he said slowly. “No, I just— Look, I didn’t mean to interrupt you at dinner. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing here. I’ll go.” Rocco caught her by the arm and pulled her inside. “I’m glad you’re here.” He closed the door behind her, tucked her hand into his own and tugged her toward his dining room. “Nonna, look who dropped by.” Nonna Mamione had her glasses around her neck topping a twinset, and a long grey skirt printed with white flowers. “My lawyer! You look upset. Have some of this.” She poured something that looked like lemonade into a glass. “You’re not driving, are you? Rocky, don’t let her get in a car after this.” Rocco pressed a kiss to her temple. “A sip may just knock you out, so just before you pass out remember you came here voluntarily.” She laughed. “Yeah. I will. Thank you, Mrs. Mamione.” 133

Nonna frowned. “Hmm. What did I tell you?” “No fighting,” Rocco commanded. “Annie, sit down, grab a plate and help yourself.” “What are you eating?” she asked, and as soon as she approached the table her stomach grumbled. Rocco curved his hands around her waist. “Sea bass and basil mash. Let me take your coat.” She unravelled herself from the coat and sat down. “No Mama Mamione tonight?” Anna asked. Nonna rolled her eyes. “She’s having an evening off from me, so I’ve come to my grandson’s. Do you like fish?” “I do. No, no, you don’t have to serve me.” “Be quiet, we’ve only just sat down to eat. We were talking and making dessert first.” Anna perked up. “What did you make?” “Triple-layered cherry mousse cake.” She nearly melted into a puddle on the chair. “That sounds good.” Nonna pushed a plate with two huge pieces of fish, cherry tomatoes, olives, sitting on top of pale green-coloured mashed potato and what smelled like chili oil. “Now eat.”

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Rocco re-entered the room with another glass. “For your water. You’ll need it when you’ve had that cocktail.” “What’s wrong with it?” “Nonna, you’ve got the most deliberately unsteady hand when it comes to pouring alcohol. I’m just giving Annie fair warning.” He sat next to Anna, his hand warm on her thigh as he started eating with his other hand. Neither he nor Nonna pressed her into their conversation, but they both spoke in English, an invitation for her to join in when she was ready. The fish melted in the mouth and the chili oil had the most wonderful level of heat. Politeness stopped her from licking her plate clean. Then Nonna brought out the cake, and nothing could stop her from running the tip of her finger over the cherry liqueur-flavoured cream barely left on her dessert bowl. Still talking around her, Rocco put his arm around the back of her chair and gently tugged on the ends of her hair. While it felt dreamy, Anna started getting angry. Really angry. Imogen’s words started to echo in her head, almost as if Anna hadn’t made a single reply to her utter ridiculousness. “What’s wrong with your face?” Nonna demanded. “You look like you’re about to explode!” 135

Rocco picked her up. “Annie needs to vent.” He led her upstairs to his bedroom and closed the door. “Go for it.” It was mostly profanity, but to be able to scream what she was feeling was the best release. “God, that motherfucking bitch,” she ended on a whisper. “You good?” he asked. “No,” she sighed. “I think I need more cake.” He gave her a quick kiss and led her back downstairs. Nonna was finishing the cocktail. “Impressive vocabulary,” she said dryly. “Thanks,” Anna muttered. “May I have some more cake, please?” “Was that really over cake?” “No, Nonna.” Nonna cut her a huge slice and heaved it into her bowl. “People will always disappoint you. Because they’re human, or dickheads. Normally dickheads, but humans tend to make mistakes. The trick is to not let those mistakes hold you back, or you end up regretting the mistakes you made.” “Right,” Anna mumbled around the cake. It was utterly sinful. Enzo Vitale clearly had been denied cake all his life. If he’d had even a crumb of one of Nonna’s creations, he wouldn’t have been so short-sighted as to 136

get rid of such a jewel. “This is the best cake I’ve ever had.” “Good!” Nonna looked smug. “Rocky, get some coffee. Espresso.” “What? I’ll never sleep!” Rocco kissed the top of her head. “Maybe I’ll help you.” Oh God, don’t let me start getting turned on with his grandmother in the room. It’s creepy. “Tea. Please.” The tea calmed her, and on her second cup with some biscotti, Rocco and Nonna moved her into the living room. The armchair she curled up in was better than her own bed. How different his house was now! So much more comfortable. She'd felt nervous going to Rocco's home just for the fact that she didn't want to make a mess—it had been Elle Decoration perfect. It seemed like a minute later when Rocco said softly, “Tempesta, I'm just going to drop Nonna home, okay? I'll be back in fifteen minutes.” “Oh. Well, I’ll just go home.” “No, no, no. Please, stay. I won't be long.” She received a long, luscious kiss for her troubles and then Nonna's dulcet cackle rent her ears. “See you, screamer.” 137

She winced and hoped it was a nickname that wouldn’t stick. “Nonna, I do need to talk to you, actually.” “Tomorrow. Eleven thirty.” Anna could have found her phone and checked her diary, but she honestly didn't have the energy. “Okay, Nonna.” As soon as the door closed, Anna placed her cup and plate in the dishwasher and switched it on. Then she traipsed upstairs and showered, using that bodymelting scented gel that Rocco used. He had some simple body cream which she used liberally. In his underwear drawer, she found options for nightwear and decided a pair of boxers and a t-shirt would be adequate. Goodness, he didn't half have tight underwear. The boxers on her bottom looked like leggings shrunk in the wash. Pulling them into some sort of comfort, she slipped between his cool sheets. Awesome mattress, she thought, wriggling into position. Exhaustion settled on her, and she felt a very sad sting of tears in her eyes. She really wished someone had told her just how much more painful it is to lose a friend than a lover. Pulling the duvet over her head, not even waiting for Rocco to return, she fell asleep. 138

Rocco closed the front door behind him and set the outer alarm. His nonna’s words were still ringing in his ears. “Try jewellery. Who needs friends when you have diamonds?” He gave his scalp a rub. “Annie?” he called. The only response was the assured hum of the dishwasher. “Annie?” A worried feeling filtered through him until he looked in the dining room. Her bag was still sitting on the spare chair. Bedroom, then. He jogged lightly up the stairs and pushed open the bedroom door. A chuckle escaped his throat at the sight of that sweet little lump beneath the duvet. What a day. Unable to keep the grin off his face, he made sure the house was secure then showered before joining Anna in the bed. He did put on pyjama bottoms just to protect his manhood in case Anna freaked out about his nudity. “You’re back then,” she mumbled, turning over and resting her head on his chest. He curled his arm around her shoulders to cuddle her closer. “Yeah. I’d have got back faster if I knew you were going to be camping in my bed.” “I slept for all of ten minutes.”

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He slowly stroked his thumb over the soft skin of her bare shoulder. “Still angry?” “So fucking mad.” “Tell me,” he insisted. The swearing bout hadn’t worked—she obviously needed to really vent about it. Anna turned onto her stomach and leaned on his ribs. “You know what really fucks me off? It’s the fact that she spoke to me as if she has the smallest idea what it’s like to be me. Like I just woke up one morning and I had everything. I worked for it! I studied for weeks to figure out how to help my aunt, and because my aunt is a decent woman, she gave me that money for my GDL. But that didn’t cover my living expenses, so I worked two jobs. I’ve been working two jobs since I turned seventeen. I’ve only just paid off my student loans even though I’ve lumbered myself with a mortgage, which I am paying by myself. I didn’t marry the first banker who looked the other way to my shagging about to fund my lack of direction in life.” Ouch, Rocco thought. If Imogen didn’t deserve it... “Even when I got a training contract, because I had more than education on my CV, do you know how many times I spoke to clients on the phone and as soon as they came to the office, they

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were all ‘oh, you’re black!’ Do you have any idea just how fucking insulting that is?” He had an idea, from when he’d started his police station accreditation and his clients breathed a sigh of relief. No offence, it’s better if a white guy represents me. Telling them that it wasn’t strictly the case would have made matters unnecessarily complex. “How shitty it made me feel?” Anna went on. “But I put up with it, like I put up with a lot of things. I just got the fuck on with things so I could qualify. And that bitch, that fucking cunt, think she knows what it is to be me, that she has a vague idea of what I’ve gone through, what I’ve experienced because she can’t see past my colour? I’m not anything but black?” “You know she said that to get to you.” “And it’s fucking worked!” she fumed. “You know she had the cheek to say that she did me a favour because your mother wouldn’t appreciate a black daughter-in-law?” Rocco gave a disbelieving laugh. “She was at my birthday. It was Moroccan themed for a reason. If she had the vaguest understanding of Sicilian history, she’d know that we’re pretty diverse.” “Yes, but the doubt’s in my head now.”

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“Stop it,” he told her. “My family’s not like that, we’re so mixed we don’t know what we are, so we stick to the Sicilian thing and hope no one digs too far. Listen, Imogen’s got a very limited understanding of the way the world works. She saw what she wanted to, which was you not breaking a sweat or giving up, or throwing your hands up and saying, it’s too hard. You got on with it. That’s what she resents. That you made it look easy when we all knew it wasn’t. Plus, you are incredibly hot.” She hid a smile before her head fell on his chest. “God, I hate that bitch.” “Don’t waste your energy on hating someone like her.” “Does your mother really not like me?” she mumbled, her voice vibrating against his skin. “To be honest, Annie, you stamped on her baby’s heart, which isn’t going to endear you to any mother. You’ll only really make up for it with grandchildren.” Anna’s head came up sharply. “Wait, what?” “Come here,” he ignored her, and wrapped her in a huge-armed embrace. “Don’t let Imogen’s illeducated judgment undermine what you have achieved. If she worked for a thousand years she

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couldn’t accomplish half a fingernail of what you have.” She made a little murmur in her throat and buried her face in his neck. “Silver-tongued bastard.” He laughed. “You’re welcome.” They were quiet for a moment, enjoying the hug. Almost as if he didn’t want to jinx it, Rocco tried not to think about how perfect this was and relax in the moment—until he felt Anna’s fingers stroking back and forth over the “chase the storm” tattoo. What is she doing? he thought, as his cock started to stiffen unrepentantly. “Annie, I thought you were mad.” “I was. I’m just making myself more comfortable.” This wasn’t going to work if she didn’t stop. “Okay, don’t play about with that.” He felt the smile against his neck. “Who’s playing?” “Annie...” His protest died in his throat when her hand slipped inside his pyjama bottoms. No one could even start to blame him for wanting her to do that. Hell, he’d been thinking about her hands, her mouth, her pussy on his cock for years. She grazed her teeth over the skin of his neck as her thumb gently tugged at 143

him in a long, slow stroke from the head to the base of his cock. It pulsed fiercely against her palm. “You know you’re throwing a three-hour reunion session out of the window?” Anna threw the duvet back and in the blink of an eye had thrown his bottoms across the room. “I don’t need three hours.” Without ceremony she threw the tshirt from her torso, sending a jolt through him at the sight of her breasts. How had he ever had a hard-on in the absence of that figure? Conscience should have stopped him from letting her take him in hand once more, but his cock quite firmly told him to shut up and stop thinking. It was the brush of her soft hair on his thighs, the rippling pressure of her fingers along the length of him, the ridge of the roof of her mouth over the head of his dick, the scratch of her nails over the storm tattoo that seized him, brain to toe. He desperately tried not to thrust into her mouth, catch the back of her head and make her take him deeper, but she read him. Without stopping the tease of her lips around him, she took his hand and threaded his fingers into her curls. He pushed the curls from her forehead, and she looked up at him, her cheeks hollowed into a pout, his cock slowly slipping from her mouth. The look in her eyes, the promise of more to 144

come almost ripped an orgasm from him, but there was so much more to come, he couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. Later, maybe, when he’d made her more amenable. Catching her by the arms, he pulled her along the length of his body and swiftly onto her back. “I was busy,” she protested. “Shh.” He yanked his boxers from her body and frowned at the marks the elastic had left on her hips. Tracing his tongue in the grooves, he told her not to wear what would make her uncomfortable. “I’m comfortable now,” she sighed, parting her legs and infusing the air with the intoxicating scent of her arousal. With a growl he knelt between her thighs and anchored them on his shoulders, raising her swollen, drenched pussy to his face. His first kiss to her delicious lips forced her to arch into him. The very taste made his mouth water and he took her fully, almost swallowing her pussy whole. Anna gave a screech that would have hurt if her thighs weren’t pressed so hard on either side of his head. Alternating between nibbling on her outer lips and her clit while she trembled around him, he slipped his tongue inside her pussy, drinking the flood of juice. As soon as he moved his hand to cup one breast in his palm, she 145

began jerking against him, both hands in his hair pressing him hard against her, his name bursting from her. Cream dripped over his chin as her pussy fluttered against his mouth, trying to clench on his tongue. “Oh Rocky,” she breathed, trying to lift that treasure away from him. He lowered her back to the mattress, lay before her and once again buried his face in her pussy. He was making amends for the time they’d spent apart, for her thinking that any woman’s pussy could even begin to compare to hers, for wasting valuable time when he could have tried convincing her of his sincerity with his tongue. Holding her thighs firmly apart, he carried on feasting, despite having to adjust himself several times, his cock pulsing a fervent reminder of where it wanted to be. His fingers would sometimes damply meet her own at her breasts, and he’d have to push hers out of the way to allow him to savour the feel of her bullet-hard nipples against his flesh, the sweat pooling between her breasts, the burning heat of her lower belly. Lifting his head, he gazed on his Anna’s body, glowing with heat, vibrating with pleasure. “Come here,” she demanded. He lifted a brow. “Pardon?” 146

“Come here, please. Please me.” Cheeky mare, he thought with a grin. Levered on his arms, Anna wrapped a leg around his waist and flipped him onto his back. “That works for me.” “Drawer.” He indicated his left. Anna leaned over and fingered through a selection of condoms. “Fruit, ribbed, lubed?” “Get one, any one, now.” She grinned. “Obviously you weren’t missing me.” He pulled her hand from the drawer and cupped her face. “Look at me. I missed you every fucking day. You’re on my body, not just in memory, but in print. I promised to chase you and I didn’t. So you weren’t there on the important days of my life, when I looked for you. You weren’t there for the small victories, days when I needed to hear your voice, times when I lacked your sense and sharpness and laughter. It broke me that I couldn’t share things with you. And it was easier to convince myself that you didn’t mean everything to me, but I only hurt me. In that respect it wasn’t obvious to anyone that I missed you. But I did. Every. Fucking. Day. You understand me?”

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Hands braced on his chest, Anna leaned down and kissed him until he forgot why the hell they were talking and why they weren’t fucking. Quickly, Anna leaned up, selected a condom. “Don’t look, it makes me think I’m about to be fucked by a banana.” He was laughing too hard to pay too much attention to her hands sheathing him in latex. “Oh God, I love you.” With a hand gripping his cock, she lowered herself onto him. He’d never seen her so beautiful, the ecstasy on her face as she took him inch by inch until she was full. Placing his feet firmly on the mattress, he drove more deeply into the depths of her pussy, her cream trailing to the base of his cock. He used her ample buttocks as leverage, easing her up and down over the length of his yellow-covered dick. “I can’t,” he protested. “Not with this thing. It’s fucking ridiculous.” Swiftly, he carefully deposited a giggling Anna on the bed and removed the yellow condom and replaced it with a conventional one. “Why’d you have them anyway?” “I enjoy prolonging my pleasure,” he drawled, pulling her underneath him and thrusting into her. 148

“Meet me,” he commanded. Instantly, she lifted her hips, welcoming him, with her body, with her moans. He shuddered at the sensation of her teeth on his shoulder and took her harder, grinding his pelvis into her own, in short sharp circles. Each time he hit an angle, Anna’s pussy clenched at him, and her nails dug into his flesh. “Did you miss me, Annie?” he demanded. Her head was thrown back, her lips parted with gasps. “Hmm,” was all she said on a rising cry. Leaning up slightly, he lightly pinched her clit. “Annie.” “Yes!” she screamed, her juices flowing over him as her pussy pulled him in tightly. He couldn’t hold back any further. His hips pounded hard and fast until the spasms tightened his balls and his orgasm filled the condom. “I love you too,” Anna mumbled. “Now get off. I wanna sleep.” He lightly grazed his teeth over her nipple. “You’ve got twenty minutes.” Her lashes lifted and he grinned at the look in her eyes. “Half an hour.”

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“Nineteen minutes.” Pushing him off and nudging him away with an elbow, she cuddled the pillow and closed her eyes. “Eighteen minutes.” “You’re only saying that because you need that long to recover.” Rocco glanced down at his cock. “Tempesta, I’m ready to go now.”  Is it Saturday? Anna thought, lifting her head from the pillow. No, it’s half ten in the morning on a Thursday. And I’ve got the sex ache. Oh that had been so good, so fucking good, someone really should take some sort of emotional measurement from her. Blow up the machine. This was how a woman should feel after a night with Rocco Mamione and his magical cock. Speaking of, where was he? She was alone in the king-size bed and the t-shirt and boxers were nowhere to be found. Scrambling to sit up, Anna searched for something to throw over herself. Before she could do anything useful, Rocco burst into the room. “Annie’s awake,” he declared gently. “You look shell shocked, you okay?” 150

Damn, he looks good, she thought, admiring the fitted shirt and jeans. Suits just worked so much better for him, mocking or not. In casual clothing, particularly white, she could see the outline of his crucifix and the gun tattoos. People should not be staring at her art. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” “Because you needed it. Don’t worry, I told Charles we both had out-of-office appointments. And Nonna’s called and asked if she can meet you at a restaurant for lunch instead.” He was being far too jovial and bouncy and happy. She really wanted to go back to sleep. “Which one?” “Gina’s restaurant in Chelsea.” He did not just mention another woman while she was naked in his bed. “And who is Gina?” Rocco grinned. “Don’t make that face, Tempesta, she’s Nick’s wife. And it’s the only restaurant Nonna ever goes to when she’s feeling too lazy to cook.” “Oh.” She rubbed her eye, feeling a little silly. Rocco was still watching her. “What?” “You don’t have to go anywhere until lunch. And it’s only half ten.” She threw back the duvet and patted the space in front of her. “You’ve got twenty minutes.” 151

Slowly, he started stripping. “What if I need longer?” Good point. What was her argument? She couldn’t think properly when he was tugging off those jeans and staring at her that way which meant, if you’re not wet now, you will be. “Convince me, Mr. Mamione. I’m open to suggestions.” “And that’s why you’re a good lawyer.”

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Nonna was waiting for her at the restaurant, examining the menu with her glasses perched on her nose. “You look rested,” Nonna said as soon as Anna sat down. “I had a good sleep,” Anna said smoothly, trying not to wince as she brought her thighs together and crossed her ankles. “Hmm, sex will do that for you.” Anna froze and caught the waiter’s eye before he was even two tables away. “Wine. White. Huge. Please. Now.” The waiter gave her a nod and turned on his heel. Nonna carried on talking. “I’m very hungry. How about you? I’m sure you need to keep your strength up. My grandson is a Mamione and if he’s anything like his grandfather, I’m surprised you got any sleep at all.” Sweet Jesus, take the wheel. “All right, stop, stop it. Yes, I slept with Rocco. Now let’s move on.” “I want to talk about it,” Nonna protested, catching her with a beady look. “Are you going to break his heart again?” Anna was quite disgusted. “No.” 153

“Are you sleeping with him to feel good about yourself, to feel better about your stupid bitch of a friend, or do you want to be his wife?” If only she’d just stayed in bed with Rocco... “What do I say to that?” “The truth, young lady.” The waiter placed Anna’s wine down carefully. “Ah good, I’ll have the duck, the salad, some mixed vegetables, a portion of the chips on the side too. Yes, and I don’t want the parsnips. Pathetic root vegetable. Anna!” The waiter scribbled furiously and then looked to Anna. “I’ll just have the soup.” “Pick something better! I’m paying.” “Nonna,” she sighed. “Soup is not a meal. It’s a starter.” She didn’t have the energy to carry on a row. “Fine. I’ll have the pigeon. Thank you. And if you see this glass heading toward half full, bring me another one.” The waiter’s face barely flickered with amusement, but he collected their menus and left them alone. “That sort of day, eh?” Nonna teased. “Whose fault’s that?” “Oh don’t be silly. Now, are you using my grandson as a trampoline or what?” 154

“Just a minute, you know what he—” “Yes, yes, but now’s the time to piss or get off the pot. He loves you. That is obvious. Do you love him?” It’d be very easy to lie, but there was no point. He knew anyway, and it was only a matter of a phone call before Nonna knew as well. “Loving him isn’t hard. I can’t trust him.” Nonna frowned. “For what? As far as I can see he’s gone out of his way to keep you out of what can be a very, very dark way of life. No, young lady, don’t misunderstand me, it’s not good. There were days when I was a little girl that I didn’t know from day to day if I’d see the men in my family ever again. And that was nothing to do with the war. Rocco’s mother, you know she has that worried little tone in her voice, that’s not from finding out my son couldn’t keep it in his trousers, that’s from threats—the police, other families, like that little cunt Vitale. The father, not the bed wetter who’s causing me problems. It’s a dark way of life, and to have one foot in the daylight can only be a good thing. Rocky’s only careful because he’s seen the worst. It’s all very well and good defending those people who get into trouble, but you know where the heartache is? With their wives, their partners, their children. If you can trust him for one thing, it’s that he 155

will do his best not to let you get hurt. And what’s wrong with that?” “It’s not a relationship, Nonna, it’s a form of imprisonment. I don’t need protecting, I can handle myself. What I need him to do is let me in. When he stops keeping me at a distance at the pretence that he’s protecting me, then I’ll trust him.” “With all due respect, Annie, that’s crap.” “Nice.” “You want it all, but you won’t when you have it all on your doorstep, needing a bucket, a sponge and some Pledge. If you know everything, you risk the police coming for you. If you know nothing, then you can’t risk him or yourself.” Anna felt a stabbing pain behind her eyeball. “He’s my client now. Everything he tells me is privileged. I can’t talk about it even if I wanted to. And I don’t like that he thinks I value my career above everything else.” “You said it yourself, you worked hard for it.” “The client part was Rocco’s idea,” Anna admitted, fiddling with her cutlery. Nonna rolled her eyes. “Urgh, then what are you whining about? He’s a very good boy who loves his family, he’s a clever, clever boy and a snappy dresser. 156

Like me.” Anna lifted her brows at the declaration. Nonna was looking rather Jackie O today. “You wouldn’t understand, Nonna, because you’re on the inside.” “So are you! You know it all now, what’s your problem?” Anna opened her mouth and then closed it again. Damn, the old bag was right again. What else did she need? Something, maybe, a gesture would prove it to her. For all their history, she needed the reassurance that she had no reason not to trust him. “Never mind, Nonna, we’ll work it out. Anyway, I wanted to ask you, what’s Enzo’s Vitale’s problem?” Nonna rolled her eyes. “Jumped up little shit, just like his father. Abele. Everyone in that whole family is a leech. Do nothing and take all the credit and live off what their ancestor did before dinosaurs walked the earth.” As their food was placed before them, Anna listened, making mental notes. The last thing she needed was a Solicitors Regulation Authority review on that file and for her to be up before the Disciplinary Tribunal. “Don’t worry about him too much, he’s got a good setup. Other businesses that he can trade off to 157

pay up. He’s not poor. I’m angry because he doesn’t need any more fucking money. Has he written anything back to you?” Anna looked up from the carcass that was the remains of her pigeon. That was divine. “No, he hasn’t. And we’ve given him long enough, so I’ll file your claim today.” Nonna sighed. “I know my son would be disappointed, but sometimes you need a sledgehammer to crack the nut. The law’s my sledgehammer.” “Good,” Anna announced, “that’s what it’s there for.” Nonna looked distinctly crystal eyed. “I need to feel useful, Annie. That way, I don’t feel so fucking old.” Anna caught her hand and squeezed it. “We’ll sort it. He’s got nothing to stand on.” Nonna released a breath. “I’ll make your cake if you marry him.” “Enzo?” Anna spluttered. “No! Silly girl! Rocky.” “Nonna, stop it. Rocky and I will sort out Rocky and I when I don’t feel like I’m treading on quicksand

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with him.” Nonna gave an acquiescing nod. “Would you be cross if I had dessert?” Nonna grinned. “I was just waiting for you to say it first.”

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Making up for lost time didn’t really involve many words, for the first week at least. How could talking be a high priority, when instead, Anna could spend the majority of her time with her legs around Rocco’s waist, her tongue in his mouth, her nails in his shoulders while she licked the salt from his corded neck and pushed her hips into his to take his cock even more deeply? Her whole body seemed to crave him, and one hit was never quite enough for her body to be satisfied. The wave of an orgasm would keep her need at a muted throb for long enough to either sleep or eat, only for the burn to flare once again. Not that Rocco altogether minded her crawling over him. She only wished her mind was as easily quieted. Distracting Rocco with a flash of thigh or cleavage worked for a little bit, but she’d chosen a man with a sharp mind, and she knew he’d twigged straight away that she was holding back. He instead waited for her to speak up. For about a week, he used the ample talents of his body to gain her complete submission. With the underside of his cock, he stroked over her clit until she had no idea just what she’d promised or said. Hell, she thought she was speaking in tongues at one point, 160

before he slammed into her, over and over until she felt worn out from the pleasure, and her throat sore from screaming. She held up a hand to her face as Rocco disposed of the condom. Her fingers were trembling. At the very least, that part of them hadn’t changed a bit. She could only be grateful for that. He lay next to her, just the light tease of his breath over her skin sending tremors over her sensitised flesh. “Where are you?” Rocco asked on a whisper, his hand pressed to her cheek. His arm felt heavy between her breasts. Even with the weight of him, she pressed him closer. “What?” “Where are you? And don’t fib, you just promised to tell me everything.” “What?” she repeated. God, he’d turned her mind into mush. “Talk to me, Annie,” he pressed. “Where are you? With you and me?” “On doubt mountain,” she answered with a shrug. “The ‘but’ is still there.” He nodded and sat up. “I understand.” Naked, he rose from the bed and retrieved a notepad and pen. “These are all my passwords. E-mails and phone. 161

Work and personal. The work one is already set up so you have access to it.” She blinked. “Are you serious?” With a rip of paper, he handed her the passwords. “Just do me a favour and memorise them so you can destroy that.” “You...you...wow.” She looked down, in a haze of shock that he had just opened that door to her. “I’ve got nothing to hide from you. If this will help with the doubt thing, then I’ll do it.” He disappeared shortly and returned with two mobile phones. “Give it a try.” Anna felt slightly ill as she picked up one phone. She kept glancing at him, waiting for him to leap on her and tell her that he couldn’t do it, it was too close to what he had to deal with, family, business. She was scared that she was going to see things from other women that would dropkick her forty thousand steps backwards. “That’s the personal one,” he said, sitting on the side of the bed. “And you use that code for it.” Releasing a breath, she did as he asked and the phone made a clicking noise. Rocco reached out a hand and stroked his palm over her arm. “I’ve nothing to hide with you.” 162

That may be the case for him, but this was singularly the most difficult thing she’d ever done. A touch on the message folder and it opened up in a list. Updates from the Law Society, a conference on fraud he was due to attend next week, promotional e-mails from a gift company that specialised in teddy bears, pharmaceutical companies, lots from Beppe and someone who was apparently managing an apartment in Palermo. Her stomach was churning, the fear of finding something making her head spin. She closed the phone and handed it back. “Here.” “You didn’t look at the texts?” Fuck’s sake. “No, Rocco, I do not want to look at the texts. I do not want to see a billion and one messages from skanks asking if they can come over and suck your dick.” She risked a glance at him and irritatingly enough, saw the light of amusement in his eyes. “No one asks that anymore. There’s no decorum for hookups.” “So you want to see e-mails from guys asking me for sex?” His smile was feral. “I could do. But you should understand that I have the resources to trace where 163

those men are and have them killed.” Anna almost laughed, but then saw he was quite serious. “I don’t like the idea of men walking around free and happy on this planet who’ve touched you.” All right, he was utterly mental. “How did this turn around onto me? We’re talking about you.” “And you. It’s about the two of us.” He caught her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. A shudder chased over her at the skin-to-skin contact. Her cheeks started to heat and she squirmed a little. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you—stop bouncing on me.” “I’m not. You could have put something on at least. It’s like the princess and the pea.” “No, no, no, you do not get to call this,” he nudged her with his hips, “a pea.” “You know what I mean. Look, you can’t rush this. I know you want things to go back where I don’t have any issues with you and I trust you completely. But I can’t help it. I appreciate the e-mail thing, I really do, but it’s...” She breathed out slowly. “I don’t think it’s the answer.” He nodded, placing a kiss to her collarbone. “Okay. Let’s try some ground rules, then. One, you need to talk to me.” 164

“Easy,” she snorted, “I’m good at talking.” “No, Annie. You’re good at cussing. Talking as in we have a conversation.” Pouting wasn’t going to help, so she gave a sigh. “Fair enough. Two, you have to be honest with me. We’ve got a retainer now. You can trust me.” He breathed out in exasperation, dropping his head to her shoulder. “I never not trusted you—I tried to protect you.” “What I mean,” she clarified, trying to ignore the effect of his warm breath flowing over her nipples, “is that you need to trust me that not everything comes second to my career. I have a heart. Just look after the fucking thing.” A grin brightened his face. “You look after mine, I’ll look after yours. Anything else?” “Yes, we keep this out of the office.” “What? After all our good times?” “You won’t get any grief. I will get grief. The woman always gets grief. So no office business. Knowing our luck, we were caught on camera in the lift and it’s floating around on the Internet.” The thought all at once repulsed her and turned her on, the idea of people touching themselves watching her with Rocco. 165

“Fine. Four, you meet my family and I meet yours.” Holy crap, the man was serious. “Er...” “It was all a youthful misunderstanding,” he advised. How did he know that she hadn’t really explained to anyone that she was making a nice dent for herself in Rocco’s bed? Youthful misunderstanding would have to do. It wouldn’t be fair to perpetuate the cheating myth, not on Imogen’s lies. Rocco’s hand smoothed over her stomach to gently cup her breast. “Agreed?” No wonder the man was a smooth negotiator. “I suppose so,” she sighed. Rocco’s thumb spanned to the nipple of her other breast and grazed. “Try to sound a little more enthusiastic.” He gently removed his hand and allowed his mouth to take its place. She moaned, her fingers drifting through his hair. “That sounds amazing.” She tried to inject her voice with a lilt, but it sounded like a plea for more. “Good. This will work. Because I will not let anything or anyone take you away from me again.” “Keep calm and carry on what you were doing,” she ordered. “I’m not going anywhere.” And for now, it was nothing but the truth. 166

 “No, no, no!” Mimi exclaimed as soon as Anna answered the phone. “You do not get to tell me you got under Rocco in a text message.” Anna had tried to be clever, only because she didn’t want to do the whole post mortem, which generally made her feel very uncomfortable and about five years old, explaining why she’d spent all her pocket money on sweets. The text message was supposed to be her escape route. But the sneaky cow called her from an unknown number. “You want details?” “Of course I do!” “What can I tell you that won’t gross you out?” Anna shrugged. “I’m a doctor, nothing can gross me out any more.” “So I came like, eight times...” “And I’m done. Speak to me when you’re going to be sensible.” Mimi ended the call and Anna started laughing at the receiver. Her phone tinkled with a text message.

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“If I don’t talk to you for about three weeks, that will work, won’t it?” Anna called her back. “No, that won’t work for me. By the way, we’re not speaking to Imogen.” “Who’s we?” Mimi demanded. “I was never speaking to her except with the assistance of valium and a glass of Pinot Grigio.” “We as in you and me.” “She lied, didn’t she?” “Yup,” Anna replied without emotion. “Am I allowed to scalp this bitch now?” “Meems, no violence. You can’t afford to be struck off.” “Meh, I spend any more time with Beppe, it’s going to happen. But in any case, I’m glad you’ve sorted things out with the Italian sausage. So very happy.” In Mimi’s voice was nothing more than pure genuine joy for her. Now that was a friend. “Thank you. You can come to dinner with me and the bad Sicilian. And you can meet Beppe properly.” Mimi snorted, “Not unless you want dinner all over your sparkly walls. Leave that well alone. Love you.” “Love you too.” 168

“What the actual fuck? Did you just say the L word to me? You never say the L word!” Anna grinned. “I know.” “Eight times, eh? Please Lord, let Rocco Mamione always provide my greatest friend with satisfaction so she can tell me that she loves me.” “You know I do.” Mimi was quiet for a moment. “It’s just lovely to hear it. I’m going before you make me cry!” Again Mimi put the phone down and Anna cracked up. Bernie called her. “You need to stop cackling. You are freaking out your three o’clock appointment.” Anna frowned at her appointment diary. Oh, that dude. He could be scared—he needed it. “Good. My plan is working.”

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Nonna fitted her glasses to her nose, frowning at the case file in front of her while Bernie set up the refreshments in the centre of the conference table. Enzo Vitale looked uncomfortable and shifty as ever, sitting on the right side of his two solicitors. He had good reason to look uncomfortable. The mediation session had been his solicitors’ idea, before going for the full tribunal hearing, set for the next month. Their defence had been pathetic at best and at worst laughable. Tempting as it was to see what an employment judge would make of it, Anna had a responsibility to mediate first and see if the hearing could be avoided. The mediator sat at the head of the table, tapping his pen to a notepad. “Are we ready?” “I’m ready to kick Italian ass, yeah,” Nonna claimed. Anna winced. “Mrs. Mamione is simply concerned that she receives what is due to her.” The mediator looked wary. “All right. Ms. Taylor, it’s your client’s claim, so why don’t you set out the background?”

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“Mrs. Elisabetta Mamione is a brand herself. The deli she worked in for thirty years relied on her talent, her recipes, her astuteness and her passion. Mr. Vitale here saw a business venture, a thriving one that owed its success to Mrs. Mamione. He bought that venture from two owners more than ready for retirement. It was a successful business that had no need for change or alteration, and without Mrs. Mamione the business would instantly fail. Not a single recipe was written down. Each invention, weight and measurement of ingredients is in Mrs. Mamione’s head. The question is why did Mr. Vitale sack Mrs. Mamione? He could have done so for a number of reasons. Mrs Mamione is a woman past the age of retirement, but has never received a disciplinary. Has never been late or taken more holiday than permitted. She is a woman who has strong opinions, but a mind that has carried this business to unimaginable profits. Knowing that a business relied on the talents of that one woman, why dismiss her, if not to discriminate against her—on the basis of her age, her sex, or simply to victimise her because of her surname. Mrs. Mamione’s employment was part of the deal when the owners sold the deli. To fire her was not only a breach of contract, it was a breach of the Transfer of Undertakings Regulations—it 171

was a breach of the law. Mr. Vitale has yet to explain himself in a manner that fully divulges his reasoning for sacking Mrs. Mamione, but I am sure one will be forthcoming. Mrs. Mamione seeks what she is entitled to. Unfair dismissal damages, discrimination damages, redundancy, unpaid wages, holiday and bonus payments.” The mediator turned to Enzo’s solicitors. “Your response?” “Whilst no one can doubt Mrs. Mamione’s dedication to her previous employers, Mr. Vitale felt he had no option but to fire Mrs. Mamione for gross misconduct. Mrs. Mamione did not own the deli and treated the business as if it were hers. She behaved in an insubordinate manner on several occasions and Mr. Vitale tried to accommodate her demands, but when it comes to technical definitions, Mrs Mamione was just an employee. A cook. As such, it was within the range of reasonable responses for Mr. Vitale to terminate Mrs. Mamione’s employment.” The mediator looked up. “Good. Just point me to the letter of warning or the minutes of the disciplinary meeting with Mrs. Mamione.” Enzo’s solicitor glanced up. “Excuse me?”

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“The letter of warning or disciplinary meeting. The letter giving reasons for her dismissal. It’s here, surely.” “I’ve never seen one,” Anna said helpfully. “Sir, Mrs. Mamione was told in person...” “In this day and age, Mr. Peterson, I would expect some form of notarial confirmation of what Mr. Vitale and Mrs. Mamione discussed when Mr. Vitale felt he had no choice but to sack the person on whom the very business relied.” “The business didn’t necessarily rely on Mrs. Mamione.” “Can Mr. Vitale cook?” Anna asked. “What?” Enzo blustered. “Can you cook?” she repeated. “If the business, a deli, which necessitates food being prepared and served, wasn’t reliant on Mrs. Mamione, I am assuming you can cook.” “No, I’ve closed the business. It will reopen as a wine bar.” Brilliant. The mediator looked astounded. “I don’t understand.” “It’s going to be a wine bar. Not a deli. It’s my business and I’ve made that decision.”

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“Then why buy the deli at all?” the mediator asked. “If you didn’t want to continue that business, it makes no sense.” The solicitor with Enzo put a placating hand on his arm, but he thrust it away. “The owners wanted to retire, so they sold it to me. What I did thereafter was up to me.” “I do have to disagree with you there, Mr. Vitale,” Anna interrupted. “You’ll see on page fortyseven of the bundle, the agreement for sale with the previous owners. Clause Eight requires that the business continues to operate as a deli and Mrs. Mamione continues to run the deli.” Enzo worked his jaw. “Mrs. Mamione didn’t want to work with me.” The mediator’s frown deepened as he continued, “Then I repeat, why buy a thriving business if just to close it, make the necessary employee redundant if you weren’t going to continue the business as it was. It’s like buying a McDonald’s restaurant and turning it into a carpet shop. Why? The business was doing fantastically well. I even looked it up online—” He paused to pull out some printed papers. “‘Authentic Sicilian breads, cakes, treats and snacks, handmade on

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the premises by Nonna.’” He glanced at Nonna. “You, I assume, did all the hand-making.” “Yes sir, I did.” The mediator put down the papers. “What are we doing here?” “I’m wearing a suit from Dolce and Gabbana. My grandson bought it for me. I know why I’m here. But I don’t think he does.” Nonna nodded toward Enzo. “She cannot control what I do with my money!” he spat. “No, but you signed a contract,” Anna said lightly. “You agreed to continue the business as it was and then you got rid of Mrs. Mamione. Out of spite, vengeance, stretching your business legs, what was it?” “None of your concern.” “It is my concern when you’ve made my client redundant for no reason other than I can. You could have spent the money doing up one of the thousand abandoned pubs in the city and turned it into a wine bar. If the deli was failing, losing money, I would understand, but look at the profit in the month before you bought it. Page eighty-nine of the bundle.” Enzo’s solicitor tried to interrupt. “Could we have some coffee or water?”

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The mediator waved a hand toward the setup. “You could pass me one of those Magdalene cakes.” Enzo’s face paled. “That’s one of her cakes!” Nonna passed the tray to the mediator. “Orange blossom and lime,” she beamed. “She’s bribing you!” he yelled. “She can’t do that!” Anna shrugged. “We can offer whatever refreshments we like.” The mediator bit into one of the cakes, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Good lord. These are incredible!” “We’d sell out of these by ten every morning,” Nonna said proudly. “Easiest things in the world to mess up, a Magdalene cake.” “Mr. Vitale,” the mediator mumbled around his second cake, “You haven’t told us why you’ve derailed a perfectly functioning business in breach of the contract you signed.” “That’s not what I signed,” he growled. “That’s not your signature?” Anna interjected. “Then you didn’t buy the business? So you didn’t have any right to sack Mrs. Mamione?” “That smug old bitch was begging to be sacked, she disrespected me!” 176

“Mr. Vitale, you will modify your language,” the mediator said sternly. “I will not have you abuse anyone in this room, do I make myself clear?” “When did she disrespect you?” Anna asked. She could feel Nonna shaking with anger beside her. “July,” Enzo said. “She told me to get out of her kitchen, I was in the way.” “July was before you purchased the business,” Anna reminded him. “So why were you in the kitchen?” “I was taking a look around!” “What time in July?” “Midday, sometime, who cares?” “Then you were interrupting Mrs Mamione at the deli’s busiest time to ‘look around.’” “The owners should have told her to expect me.” “They said you were coming after we closed and you wafted in like you owned the joint already!” Nonna snapped. “You were getting under my feet, so I told you to get out.” “You don’t get to tell me what to do, I am a fucking Vitale!” “You’re a little fish whose daddy told him he’s bigger than he is,” Nonna retorted. “You sacked me because you could.” 177

“And it showed you!” he seethed. The mediator put his hands up. “I’ve heard quite enough. Mr. Vitale, pay up.” Enzo started, taking his snake eyes from Nonna. “What?” “Pay. Up. Your defence is baseless—you had absolutely no reason to buy the deli except to stretch your authoritative legs and show Mrs. Mamione that it was what you could do. Whether it’s her age or the fact that she’s a woman is unclear, but it is clear to me that you have some misogynistic tendencies, particularly in the way you spoke to her. The figure I am recommending is based on Ms. Taylor’s calculation, and I am including a compensatory award for discrimination because I can and the law allows me to. If you refuse this recommendation and go ahead to the Tribunal, believe me, no judge, especially the ones closer to Mrs. Mamione in age, will be impressed with your argument. Sirs, if you do not want to be shamed in a court of this land, you will advise your client to take this recommendation seriously and end this case. As of now, the humiliation is confined to this room. He goes to tribunal and he will be thoroughly mocked. Mrs. Mamione, would you mind giving me another cake?” 178

Nonna passed the tray over in shock. Anna made notes of the mediator’s recommendation. “Oh, and Mrs. Mamione will need her job back.” “What?” “The economy is a tight, brittle, elastic band. If you abuse businesses that are running perfectly well, you are contributing to this country’s plight, and that will help no one. She needs her job back. I know councilmen in the Kensington area, and they will continue to refuse your alcohol licence if they know it is not beneficial to their constituents, and cakes such as these are.” “That’s for the unfair dismissal, that’s her reinstatement award, breach of contract, failure to consult on a TUPE, unpaid wages, holiday and notice pay.” Anna pointed out her list of demands. “Plus what compensation figure were you thinking for the discrimination?” “Around eighty thousand pounds should do it. And an uplift of twenty percent.” Nonna’s jaw fell open and Anna made a note, making quick calculations. “That’s just under one hundred and eighty thousand. Shall we just round it out?” “This is ridiculous!” Enzo whispered. 179

The mediator shrugged. “You’ve got the money to be buying delis. I’m sure you’ll find the money to rectify your grievous mistake. Ms. Taylor, will someone be able to print up my recommendations and get a signature from everyone in the room?” “Absolutely.” She called Bernie, who went to organise like a demon. Nonna was pressing Enzo’s solicitors. “If you’re not a fan of Magdalenes, try these little biscuits. Crushed almonds and macadamia nuts.” Despite receiving filthy looks from their client, they accepted the biscuits and cups of coffee. “These really are good.” “You’re supposed to by my lawyers,” Enzo hissed. “No reason why they can’t enjoy a thoroughly decent treat.” “Outside!” Enzo commanded, getting to his feet and not waiting for his solicitors to follow. Nonna turned and hugged Anna delightedly. “Did you see his rotten face?” “I did. And well done for staying calm.” Nonna released her and blew out a breath. “Ooh, I’m feeling all giddy! Haven’t felt this way since Rocky’s grandfather tried to get me to have sex on the

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bus on the way home from dancing at the Camden Palace.” Anna glanced at the mediator who had gone red. “That’s nice,” Anna said mutely. “Have some tea.” A few minutes later, Bernie returned with the recommendation. As Bernie left, Enzo stalked back in. “Let’s just get this done and dusted.” “I’m glad you’ve seen sense, Mr. Vitale.” Lip curled in disgust, he glanced up at Nonna. “Enjoy it. While you can.” Anna sat up. “Are you threatening my client?” Enzo glanced at his solicitors, who shook their heads frantically. “I’m making a note of that,” the mediator said, tapping away at his notebook. “Don’t make idle threats in front of people who have the power to prevent you from doing anything of the sort.” Enzo scratched his signature into the recommendation and got to his feet. “Stay here, Mrs. Mamione, I’ll show Mr. Vitale out.” Anna swayed ahead of him to the lifts. “Your client made a huge mistake.” “I doubt it,” Anna replied, pressing the call button. “Because Nonna could have done this the other way.” 181

“She can’t touch me.” “Really?” She made a moue with her mouth. “That’s interesting. So who are the Da Canavezes?” He paled instantly. “They’re looking after me.” “I doubt it. But, just in case, let me run past their solicitor what you just said. See if they’ll look after you in the way you think.” The lift doors opened. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Vitale. I’ll expect the funds in our client account within the next five working days. Best not delay these things.” He stormed into the lift and his solicitors hurried after him. Folding her arms, Anna had a little think, wondering how fearful one must feel to be so close to a danger such as that. “Friends in high places, huh, Rocco?” she muttered to herself, making her way back to the conference room.

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Nonna had a celebration that went well past one in the morning. In the absence of food there had been a lot to drink with whoever was in the bar closest to the firm’s offices. Nonna didn’t like “pansy” champagne and wanted to drink a decent scotch. Rocco had no idea what happened to him, but the fact that his seventy-seven-year-old grandmother was standing on a table bellowing along to We Are the Champions conducting some city suits to join her while he was yawning, was his clue to get a life. Anna was tapping away at her iPad when Rocco went over to get her. “Still working?” “Just making sure everything’s neat and tidy. Plus I’ve got a hearing in two days. Fun.” “May I take you home?” Her eyes softened. Closing the tablet, she got to her feet. “Yes you may. Nonna!” she called. “We’re off.” “Lightweights!” Nonna snorted back. “Come on, I’m making sure you get home.” She beamed at one of the young bloods, who were shiny faced with laughter and drink. “One of these boys will make sure I’m all right.” 183

“Absolutely not,” Rocco said shortly, hoisting his grandmother from the table and ushering her outside, to Anna’s uncontrolled laughter. He hailed a taxi and Nonna sat between them, quoting Enzo Vitale’s doom. “Oh Rocky, you should have seen Anna, she was worth every single penny!” He caught Anna’s eye. “I did tell you.” “I thought you were being nice to get back in my good books.” “I was telling the truth,” he said without flattery. “And I wanted to get back into something of yours.” “Knickers?” Nonna and Anna asked together. “Nonna, behave yourself. You’re a mother of six and a grandmother of…God only knows.” Nonna turned to Anna. “Mamione men are very fertile. I’d double bag him if I were you.” Rocco sank in his seat as Anna wiped away tears of laughter. “Please, Tempesta, I beg you, have a memory lapse about this taxi journey.” “No can do, Rocks. It’s information I should be very aware of. Thank you, Nonna.” A loud snore sounded in the taxi. Nonna was out like a light. Once the taxi pulled up outside his mother’s home, he quietly and carefully deposited his grandmother in her bedroom before racing out and 184

leaping back into the taxi. “I’ve got sod all food, so we’re going to yours,” Anna told him bluntly. “Are you hungry?” “Those tiny little chicken satays did nothing for me.” Rocco buried his face in her bosom, breathing in her scent deeply and tracing kisses over her décolletage. “Then I will feed you.” “Good idea.” He hustled her upstairs while he prepared pitta breads, warmed a tagine that had been waiting for him to enjoy when he returned from work and a couscous salad. Piling everything onto a tray, he carried it to his room. Anna was patiently sitting cross-legged on his bed, wearing the lace vest she’d had on beneath her suit and little lace shorts. She patted the space in front of her. “Feed me, Seymour!” Rocco placed the tray in the middle of the bed and sat opposite Anna, who dived into the food. “Congratulations,” he said gently, stroking her leg. “Hmm, thank you!” “Why are you thanking me?” She grinned. “This has been the most fun I’ve had in law for a long time. I wouldn’t mind reaming that little idiot again.” 185

“Nonna appreciated it.” He laughed. “You didn’t take out the success fee clause, did you?” “Mate, come on, I fucking hated you a few months back, you think I’d remove anything that would give me a twenty-percent uplift when I won?” “Just checking you weren’t being all student justice defender. I know Charles wouldn’t thank you for keeping him out of a financial loop.” Anna sighed. “That man’s going to be all over me for a week or three because of this.” He helped himself to the tagine. “You know he’d try to marry you if he didn’t actually love his wife.” She gave a disgusted snort. “What makes you think he’d get the chance? Money-loving old goat.” “I said try. He’d have a hell of a time explaining himself to me. I think it’s in my contract somewhere.” Despite her giggle, she gave him a firm slap on the leg. “Good going.” “I thank you. How are we doing on the rules? Have you spoken to your parents yet?” “Yeah,” she admitted, her mouth twisting with uncertainty. That wasn’t his Annie at all. It made a flash of concern tug at his abdomen. “I told my mum and she’s worried.” Ah. “Once a cheat?” 186

She put down her food and reached over to take his hand, her fingers dusty with pitta flour. “I know you didn’t, but whether anyone else will believe that is another story.” It was the very thing they’d have to combat— people making judgments. He couldn’t have cared less if people accused him of being a thorough arsehole. Said people could suck the barrel of his favourite gun. On the other hand, people saying things about Anna, questioning her intelligence for being with him would frustrate him endlessly. He’d have to work on her parents once they’d been reintroduced. Parents tended to melt around him, male and female. “Are you happy?” “Hungry still,” she teased, picking her plate up. “Rocks, I haven’t been kind about you by no stretch of the imagination, and the response was regularly ‘he’s not worth it.’ You are worth it, though, and I want my mum to see that.” “She will,” Rocco promised. “But I understand where she’s coming from. Obviously when you and I have a little girl, she’s not even looking at boys until she’s forty and she’s not marrying anyone I haven’t thoroughly screened.”

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Anna paused, pitta bread halfway to her mouth. “Did you just say when?” “Yeah,” he said, casually going back to his food. “Maybe I want to have boys and teach them better manners than their father.” As if that sort of tease would work. “Highly unlikely—my manners are impeccable. You always come first, don’t you?” “I cannot believe you just said that in reference to our potential children.” “Children? So you agree, four?” Rocco waved a palm back and forth, waiting for her approval. “Why don’t you have the last two and I’ll be fine with that.” He winced. “Now that you’ve said it, Beppe’s going to work on a way to make that happen.” “God,” Anna sighed. “He can’t be around our kids until they’re mentally competent and able to use Mace.” “I think if you tell your parents that, we’ll be more than all right.” Laughter sparkled in Anna’s eyes and Rocco right then knew exactly what colour, size and type of engagement ring he was going to buy for her. Her parents would definitely not be cool with their 188

daughter being pregnant before she stepped anywhere near an altar or a priest.

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Rocco curled his hand into Anna’s. “Hey, hey, hey!” she hissed, taking her hand away. “Out of the office.” “We’re a step and a half out of the office, and everyone knows already!” Anna came to a grinding halt. “How?” He failed to suppress his laughter. “Your office is not soundproof. I did ask you to keep it down.” She sent him a glance of pure disdain. “Never happening again.” “We’ll see,” he challenged, taking her hand again, tugging her in front of him and nudging her through the revolving doors. Of course he felt his luck—he’d persuaded her to break one of her own rules. She’d started it, parading around in barely there lingerie only to cover up the scandalous pieces with elegant suits to torment him. “That’s not on,” he told her as she dressed in the morning a few days ago. “What? It’s so no one can see I’ve got underwear on!” Anna protested with a bewitching glint of mischief in her eyes.

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“No, they’re going to wonder if you’re going commando!” She grinned. “Nothing for you to be concerned about.” Oh, it did concern him. How was he supposed to work around the most stubborn hard-on, when he knew it wouldn’t let him be until it was buried inside Anna? His need was a serious one and for the sake of his mental health, it was not to be ignored. He called her. “Can you sit in for an intracompany transfer conference?” “Okay. I had an immigration update last week. You sure you need me?” Heh, heh, heh... “I wouldn’t ask otherwise. One o’clock.” Ten minutes to the hour, Anna breezed into his office and took a seat, a legal pad on her knees. He sat next to her, rather than opposite, trying not to smile at her immediate frown as he connected the call. “This won’t take long,” he assured her, taking the pad and placing it on his desk. Despite her frown, she didn’t seem aware of his intentions. A brief glance at her lower body showed him lots of cocoa-glossed skin. No tights today, he thought in triumph. Makes my life easier. He introduced himself 191

and Anna to the client and let the conversation play without his attention. Anna spoke with confidence. “First things first, who is the parent company and is the subsidiary in the UK?” As the client replied, Rocco drifted his hand over her bare thigh. Anna jolted and pressed the mute button on the phone. “Rocco Mamione!” His fingers dipped between her knees, his breath hitching as her legs parted at his insistence. “You can’t tempt me and expect me not to touch.” “You need help,” she grumbled, flicking at his hand. “I need you,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to her neck, his lips assaulted by her rapid pulse. “Umm...” “Ms. Taylor?” the client called. Anna edged away and slapped at the button again. “Sorry, what was that you were saying?” “That, er...” Rocco gently blew down her shirt, watching her nipples pucker beneath the blue cotton of her shirt. “You need to show that the parent company acknowledges the subsidiary...” He flicked open each button until her demi-cup bra was exposed and doing a terrible job of keeping her breasts 192

contained. “And, er...” She exhaled in a whoosh as Rocco dotted kisses to her cleavage. “…permits the employee’s transfer. It’ll need to be in writing.” “That’s no problem,” the client answered. Rocco edged the straps of her bra over her shoulders and the bra sank in a whisper of silk and lace. “Much better,” he growled. “What is?” the client asked. “To do that first. In writing,” he replied abruptly, turning his attention back to the heavenly vision of a barely dressed Anna. The centre of his palm tingled as her bulleted nipple pressed against his hand. Just like that... he thought, amazed and proud of her reaction to him. His cock was pressed painfully against the zip of his fly, and he struggled to control himself. Anna muted the phone again. “Rules!” “Don’t care.” “You should do... Ooh!” she moaned as he lowered his head and sank his teeth gently into her areola. The delicious scent of her arousal, mixed with the creamy floral perfume she used, lingered in his nostrils. Definitely a good idea. His hand slid boldly between her thighs, in reach of his goal. “Not in the

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office!” Her voice rose to a cry when his fingers grazed silky soft wetness. “The whole benefit,” Rocco explained, placing both hands on her hips and hitching her onto the edge of the desk, “of having a work colleague who also happens to be the love of your life, is to take advantage of quiet”—he released himself from his trousers, which obediently pooled around his ankles—“potentially uninterrupted and necessary sex with said colleague. And I need it.” He lifted his hand to his mouth and tasted the tips of his soaked fingers. “You do too.” Anna’s eyes were slumberous with lust. Good. She agreed with him. She leaned back and un-muted the phone. “Sorry sir, it’s better if Mr. Mamione and I send you a detailed e-mail. Much more thorough. Less to remember.” “Er, okay. Thank—” She disconnected the call and turned back to Rocco. “You get anything, anything on my skirt and I will kill you.” “You always kill me,” he replied, leaning down to take her mouth. Was there anything more perfect than this? His Annie, breasts bared, mouth parted under his, thighs spread on his desk ready for him. All for him. The tip of his cock glistened with pre-cum. He 194

couldn’t resist stroking his palm over the length, squeezing at the base to not give in so quickly. “Hurry!” Anna murmured, wrapping a leg around his waist. “Your assistant doesn’t appreciate locked doors.” “He fucking will do,” Rocco vowed. He hooked her panties aside with such determination, the delicate fabric ripped. “You are kidding me.” “That’ll show you,” he retorted, thrusting deep into her juicy heat. She sighed, arching her back at the contact. “Maybe this was a good idea.” “Best idea ever.” He pressed until every inch of his cock was gripped by her pussy. More. Now. Harder. He spread her over the desk, as he’d imagined since his first day at the firm, and gripped the edge of the other side. Anna’s legs rose with the motion and she gripped his shirt with two tight fists. A voice at the back of his head asked him how the hell he’d explain to Charles that he’d broken his desk into two, but he’d get around it. Instinct forced him to fuck as hard as possible, overtaking all rationality. The desk shook and dislodged the phone and overturned his computer 195

monitor. He grunted her name against her lips as she writhed beneath him, taking everything he gave her and giving back just the same. She gave a low cry that turned into a wail as he picked up the pace, racing them both toward a climax. “Shh,” he warned. “People will hear you.” “Fuck off!” she growled back, “and don’t you dare stop. Oh...oh...oh holy fuck.” It made him laugh until his own body seized above her, all sensations reserved for the cum that tore from him and deep into Anna. They collapsed against the wood, thankfully with no telltale creaks of an imminent crack. “That underwear,” Anna breathed, “cost fortyfive pounds a pair. You can buy me a replacement.” He was far too satisfied to argue with her, so instead he eased her legs back around his waist and kissed her slowly. Someone firmly knocked on the door. “Mr. Mamione? We’ve got that lunch meeting in a half hour?” “I’ll meet you downstairs!” he called back, gruff and annoyed at the interruption. Reluctantly he pulled away, his cock glossed with their combined juices. He gently pressed the swollen lips of her pussy together 196

and watched her shudder at his touch. “Can’t have you running around looking like I just fucked you.” She looked delicious. Flushed, mussed and all his. “Mr. Mamione,” she said primly, pushing him away and hopping off the desk. “Ms. Taylor.” He handed her a tissue from the box that had toppled to the floor. They both rearranged themselves to a semblance of normality. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” “You’re a dick,” she fumed, brushing the wrinkles from her skirt. “Leading me into temptation and evil.” “And you love me.” “Unfortunately for my eternal soul.” Elegantly, she threw her ruined panties in his bin, smoothed her palms along her figure and threw open his door. Her exit was ruined by the backward glance she sent him. All I lied and let’s do this again. With a laugh, he sorted out his office, grabbed his phone and jacket to head for the meeting. His phone vibrated with an email message. It was Anna. Here’s the website, she’d written. These are the ones I was wearing. Get those and anything else that you fancy ripping off me. Love you. xA

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As much fun as it would be to make it a regularly scheduled thing, it really did make working in his office rather difficult. He could feel Anna underneath him, taste her, smell her. Working in the office library wasn’t any better, not after she’d coaxed him into a late-night research session that had nothing to do with research. Everything between them was so good, better than it had been before. Now with Nonna’s case concluded—Enzo had transferred the money today—it could only get better. “Stay with me tonight.” “We have reservations which I’m going to give up, because?” He merely smiled at her, watching her eyes turn liquid soft. “Then you’d better get me some cake from Nonna while you’re at it.” He leaned in to kiss her but saw movement from the corner of his eye. Two men and a woman approached. Clothing crumpled, dark shadows under the eyes. Coppers. “Ms. Taylor?” Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Yes?” “I am DS Kirkwood. This is DC Pacht and DC Elden.”

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“Anna,” Rocco said softly, “don’t panic, okay? I’ll be right behind you.” “I am arresting you on suspicion of receiving proceeds of crime contrary to the Proceeds of Crime Act 2002.” Anna’s mouth was open in complete shock, not even reacting when she was turned around and handcuffed. “What station are you taking her to?” Rocco demanded, a fire in his belly at this treatment. He knew who was behind this, and once he got Anna out, they were going to be skinned alive. “Charing Cross.” They looked at each other instantly. “Oh God, not again!” Anna whispered. “Right behind you,” Rocco insisted. “You are?” DS Kirkwood asked. “I’m her solicitor.” The timbre in his voice made the officer pale visibly. Be fucking afraid, because you are not doing this to my Annie.  Anna’s legs were shaking under the table, mouth dry and her heart racing in her chest. This was not amusing, not one little bit. The shame of being 199

arrested on the doorstep of her office paled in comparison to being in a horrible little room without any natural light. Logically, this could only be in regards to Nonna’s compensation money. But why arrest her? The money was from Enzo Vitale. Rocco came into the room, tugged her to her feet and hugged her. “Are you all right?” “No.” He leaned back. “You can handle this. No worse than being in front of a cranky judge who isn’t seeing your point of view.” His belief in her nearly set her off, and she was desperately, desperately trying not to cry. “I’ve got this.” “Damn fucking right you do.” The door opened and Rocco’s face darkened. “Ms. Taylor?” he asked. Mr. Receding-hairline-thatcame-from-a-divorce-or-two had a paunch that spoke of pub dinners and a lack of exercise. “I’ve been dying to meet you.” His eyes glittered with something that bordered between lust and triumph. “I’m DS Norcross.” Anna caught the sarcastic smile on Rocco’s lips. “Still just a DS?”

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Norcross’s eyes flickered like a snake’s. “Sit down.” Sitting down again, Anna smoothed damp palms along her thighs. God, when she warned Rocco that she didn’t need protecting, really, she didn’t think about this. “Interview commenced at seven twentyseven p.m. Well, Ms. Taylor, you are prettier in the flesh than you are in photos.” Anna’s stomach exploded with rage. Rocco shifted his shoulders slightly, commanding Norcross’ attention. “You’ve got half a second to make a point. I know you’re already two complaints from ‘retirement.’” “Retirement?” Anna asked. “Voluntary or suggested?” He ignored them both. “You’re the solicitor of Elisabetta Mamione?” “Yes.” Norcross glanced down at his papers. “And you received a hundred eighty thousand pounds from her employer Enzo Vitale today.” Is this guy having a fucking laugh? “It wasn’t placed in my hands,” she sneered, “but it went into our client’ account today, yes.” “Do you know where the money’s come from?” “Another bank account,” she replied flatly. 201

She risked a glance at Rocco, whose mouth twitched with amusement. “But from where?” Anna sighed. “Mr. Vitale isn’t a poor man. He’s got other business interests, so I assume the money came from there. Additionally, his father died and I would think he would have come into more money. So what’s your point?” Norcross leaned back in satisfaction. “And it didn’t occur to you that the money could be the proceeds of a crime or several crimes?” “Mr. Vitale is not my client.” “Don’t the money-laundering regulations place responsibility on you to make sure you don’t receive proceeds of crime?” Rocco touched a hand to her thigh and Anna held back. “Have you confirmed the source of the funds as criminal proceeds, or are you playing Cluedo again?” Norcross flared with anger, “I am asking a question and your client should answer.” “Yes, I do have a responsibility, which only goes as far as a genuine suspicion of the money being from an illegitimate source. Enzo Vitale has legitimate business interests. His father passed away. The man’s 202

estate went through probate, so if there were any valid suspicions to that money, it should have been raised then, and by either the Probate Registry or the solicitors dealing with the probate itself.” Norcross shrugged. “You still received it. You’re assisting in laundering dirty money.” “The money has come from Mr. Vitale’s solicitors, therefore it’s already clean. You really ought to have a word with them.” “Did you suspect the source of the funds may be illegal?” Wow, this dude was determined to pin something on her, and to judge Anna and Rocco’s relationship on a normal time scale, she was just about Rocco’s lover. How bad would it have been if he’d gunned for her six years ago? “No.” “I don’t believe you.” “That’s up to you.” “Did you or did you not suspect the funds may be illegal?” Rocco again tapped her thigh as he ordered quietly, “Modify your tone. We’re all apparently professionals here.” “Why don’t you want to answer the question, Ms. Taylor?” 203

“The short answer is no. I had no reason to suspect the funds may be of an illegal source.” “But you understand that you’ve received illegal gains? You’ve attempted to assist in laundering money?” “Are you sure about this, or are you iPhone apping it?” Anna mocked. Before Norcross could retort, Rocco asked, “Do you understand the legality of what you’re talking about? Because it’s drummed into our heads before we’ve finished qualifying.” “Look, if I don’t have any suspicions and I have conducted a legitimate litigation, which I have, then I’ve discharged my responsibility.” Norcross looked disdainful. “We know that Elisabetta Mamione’s previous employer received two million for the sale of the business.” Rocco yawned. “And?” “And,” Norcross added, irritation grating his tone, “that didn’t raise any suspicions with you as to the amount of money paid for the business?” Anna rolled her eyes. “He is not my client. If he had the money to buy the business in the first place, then he had the money to compensate my client.”

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Norcross’ gaze wandered to the neckline of her shirt. “Ms. Taylor, we can come to an agreement here, if you co-operate...” “No, don’t interrupt me, this is farcical. If you look through the file for Mrs. Mamione, you will see that I completed valid searches on Mr. Vitale’s financial circumstances. He’s the director of several companies with shares. The valuation at certain dates of the litigation is also in the file, right when Mrs. Mamione and I started the claim. Economic climate or not, if Mr. Vitale sold the shares of one of those companies, he could have paid Mrs. Mamione several times over. Check the Financial Times. For the last time, you are talking to the wrong solicitor. Now, I’ve had enough of this utter charade and I want to go home, eat some cake and give my client some piece of mind.” Rocco murmured, “And I’m aroused.” Anna failed to keep her laughter in. Norcross pointed a chubby finger at her. “Don’t play clever with me. I know you’re in with this lot. You’re not that clever—” “Me and her degrees would disagree with you,” Rocco interrupted. “Is this all you have? Because it’s pathetic.” 205

“I know you—” A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. Anna turned around to see a distinguished-looking man put his head around the gap. “Norcross, a word please.” Norcross looked between Anna and Rocco. “Interview terminated at seven fifty-one p.m.” He got to his feet and was followed out by DS Kirkwood, leaving them alone in the room. Anna tilted her head back. “This is not amusing Rocks.” He picked up her hand. “That was impressive. Are you sure you don’t want to switch to crime?” Anna shuddered, partly from Rocco’s touch and partly from the very idea. “What, so I can spend hours on end in delightful establishments like this? No. No, no and no.” He kissed her hand. “I adore you.” The door flew open. “You’re free to go.” Norcross spat. “Then what—” Anna began furiously, but Rocco squeezed her hand. “Reason being?” “My inspector doesn’t believe there’s enough of a case.”

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Anna wanted to look at Rocco, but she had an idea that the reason he’d been right behind her and not in the police car with her was all to do with his phone and who he knew. “Maybe you should go back to Police Academy,” she suggested. “Re-learn the basics so when you do arrest someone, it doesn’t breach PACE.” Rocco got to his feet and carefully pulled Anna to her own. “Strike three, DS Norcross,” he said quietly. “Me, my father, now Ms. Taylor. Enjoy your retirement.” He led her past the spluttering man to retrieve her belongings. “Can you do that?” Anna whispered to Rocco. He instead touched his mouth to her temple. “No, don’t kiss me, answer me!” “For that half an hour of bullshit, yes,” he replied, “yes I can.” Anna felt justifiably thrilled. “Get me home quick or that dick will have a valid reason to arrest me.”

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“Annie,” Rocco whispered, brushing her hair from her ear. “I’ll be back in a bit.” She lifted her head and squinted at the clock. “Back from where? Pimping? It’s two in the morning.” “Just have a job to do,” he said simply. “Rocky...” “Do you really want to know?” She turned onto her back and stared at him. “Stop stalling.” Honesty was what she’d asked for. He would oblige her. “I’m going to ensure DS Norcross enjoys his retirement.” To her credit, she didn’t ask if it was necessary or dangerous. She leaned up and kissed him hard on the mouth before snuggling back into the duvet. “Don’t get caught.” He pressed his mouth to her neck. “I’ll do my best.” The house was secure, and no one was getting in without incurring not only a gunshot to the face from Anna, but the burning of their bodies and scattering of their ashes if they tried.

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Beppe was waiting for him in a car just outside his house. With the barest glance around, he smoothly got inside and the car carefully wheeled off. “Surprised you came,” Beppe said quietly. “Why wouldn’t I?” “Anna didn’t have anything to say about you skipping out at two a.m. to do, er...stuff?” “She said don’t get caught.” Beppe laughed. “Good girl. Are we getting your dad as well?” “No, he’s on probation still. My family will freak out if he gets sent back to prison.” “Ah, but that’s in the case we get caught. I don’t intend on getting caught. Look at what I brought with me!” Beppe jerked a thumb toward the back, and Rocco saw an array of chemicals. “Are we doing an experiment?” “Just working on a few things I want to try out.” “Beps, that’s not right.” “Trust me. It’s all good.” “This from the man who took away my ability to walk.” “For six hours, that was nothing. I’m working on the tweaks.” 209

“You are fucking tweaking if you think you’re trying anything out tonight. Tonight is not the night for you to try anything.” “I thought I could just borrow DS Norcross for a week. Do a little work. Oh, by the way, you need to get Anna to talk to her mate for me.” “Oh God, no. Leave Mimi alone. She’s sensible. Human. She’s not a blow-up doll.” Beppe opened his mouth, but Rocco just cut him off. “I said no. Now hurry up. I want to get this over with and get back to my girlfriend.” Beppe cleared his throat. “Nick, did you hear that?” “I did indeed,” came Nick’s drawl from the car speakers. “Someone in a hurry?” “Don’t even...” “What, you haven’t got your hands dirty like this in a long time. Looks like you’ve changed religion. Worshipping the pu—” “Look, shut up.” “Yes, Mistress Anna, bestow on me whatever crumb you will give—” Beppe had his lips sucked into his mouth. “I’m not worshipping!” “I believe you,” Beppe said with a sincere grin. 210

“Is the little one cold? Cold to be away from the sunlight of his woman?” “That sounded poetic,” Tony interrupted. “I’m waiting until you live on three hours of sleep with a newborn. See if you’ll be all romantic with your words then.” “Yeah, fuck you and your Maclaren buggy and ‘can’t, got to stay and look after the baby’ bullshit that’s forthcoming,” Rocco seethed. “I’m not mad you said that, coz I’m getting what I wanted. I bet you asked permission before you even left the house.” “No,” Rocco lied. “Pathetic Mamione.” “I heard that far and wide, Mamione.” Tony laughed. “You did, you asked if it was okay for you to go out and deal with the fucker that’s been haunting you.” “He’s off the force now. Makes him game,” Nick said, the glee in his voice unmistakable. Rocco ground his teeth. “Why are you so happy about it?” “I’m not, I’m just happy your grandmother sorted your love life out for you.”

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The car was filled with the howls of laughter. “What the fuck?” “Please, my dear child, my grandson is very good at sex. Don’t mind his hair so much.” Nick’s inflections of Nonna’s accent were uncanny. So much so, Beppe nearly swerved into a parked car laughing so hard. “Shut up.” “Come on,” Tony sounded breathless, “Your nonna did all the work. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a pallet bed set up next to yours to hand over the condoms.” “It’s fine,” Rocco said simply, leaning back into his seat and crossing his arms. “You cunts carry on.” “You want cake, pretty? Yes? Good,” Nick mimicked. “Find my grandson a nice girl. If he doesn’t use his thing, it’ll fall off.” “I love your nonna.” Rocco was struggling to contain his rage. “I made one joke.” “It wasn’t funny,” Nick said with a shrug in his voice. “This is.” “My mother is African, you prick! I was winding you up!”

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“Don’t remember it that way,” Nick murmured. “I remember that I left your face intact, so your nonna could hook you up.” “I pointed out a valid fact, which was Gina never dated anyone like you!” “You sound stressed, Rocks,” Tony said. “We’ve done a lot for you. Why aren’t you getting at Beppe? He’s the one that drugged you.” Rocco glared at his supposed best friend, who didn’t take his eyes from the road. “You’re fine. No lasting damage.” “Fuck off, all of you. If I’m happy, I work better, I’m more focused—which you lot are trying to throw off by being dicks, so stop it and be sensible.” They were quiet for a moment before Nick said in a Nonna voice, “My Rocky’s so patient. I’ve never heard him raise his voice. He’d make some lucky girl a good husband.” Rocco heard a squeak from Beppe that was hastily turned into a cough. “That’s fine. Stay brave now. You wait.” “Bring it on, Bugsy,” Tony mocked. Nick started whistling Fat Sam’s Grand Slam. Anna was getting spanked for that, no question. “So when are we getting photos?” 213

“What?” “You asked for pics of Lyds.” “You never sent them!” “Of course not. No one sees or touches what’s mine. Irrelevant. You asked, so I’m returning the favour.” “You are married!” “So I can’t look?” “No!” Rocco and Nick said sternly. “You two are mean and selfish. Beps wouldn’t do me like that.” “Mate, I like photography, but I don’t like you that much.” “Shut up, all of you. You are all fucked up.” Beppe agreed. “That is true.” Nick sounded nonchalant. “You met my mother—are you surprised?” Tony was quiet. “Nothing to say, Tone?” Rocco prompted. “I’m saner than the three of you put together. I’m saner than my own wife. I’m the voice of reason.” Rocco felt a laugh building in his chest at such nonsense and held it in. Beppe came to a halt. “There they are.”

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The simple Blue Ford flashed its lights twice and Beppe found a parking space, tucking himself behind the Ford. The streetlights flickered briefly before Tony and Nick emerged from the car. “Just resetting the CCTV,” Tony said, before tucking his phone into his pocket. “You look like a man under the thumb.” “I swear, I’m going to knock you out in a minute.” “Calm down,” Nick ordered. “Save it for your pensioner copper.” Rocco cracked his knuckles. “His has been a long time coming.”  Norcross was enraged. Fifteen years of service on the force for what? A twenty-minute meeting before he had to collect his belongings and he was officially retired. Whatever the government said about the increase to NARPO, his pension was bullshit. The whole situation was bullshit. He’d been so close. If he’d nailed Rocco Mamione’s girlfriend, then it would have been a sliding path to getting that slick-haired punk into the nick. Over-privileged, criminal cunt. He despised them, and especially despised the ease with 215

which they corrupted others around him, not when he could have been loyal. When he could have benefitted. Instead there was a ream of officers who suddenly lost evidence, or turned a blind eye or didn’t write down things properly and lost leads at the drop of a hat. The same people would miraculously have more money in their pockets, but there was nothing he could stick on them to catch them out, any more than he could stick something on Rocco Mamione. Crushing his can of lager in one hand, he stirred the coloured photographs that he’d built up over years. Anna Taylor leaving college with piles of books under each arm. Rocco in the corridor of his father’s offices, the freeze frame from the CCTV that convicted his father. Whatever his father claimed, Rocco had been there that night. The one that he always came back to was Carmen Mamione, sitting on the steps of her house waiting for her husband to come home. Her dark hair rippled down to her waist and her fingers cradled a teacup. It had been midwinter, and she would have been so cold. Only when her husband returned did she go back inside with him. He’d watched her for some time, lightly stroking his cock. She was a stunning woman and the idea of conquering her, taking her 216

right under Mamione’s nose, aroused him regularly. Norcross admired her loyalty and commitment to her marriage, despite the humiliation thrown in her face. His own wife had barely given them three years together before she threw in the towel. Carmen only gave up after Mamione’s first month in prison. In her desperation to save him, she had never given Norcross what he wanted, and now the opportunity was gone. Like water through his fingers. Stacking the photos to one side, he focused on Rocco. Again it was a freeze frame from the station’s CCTV, just before his girlfriend was released by his Detective Inspector. Rocco’s demon dark eyes were looking directly at the camera, and they spoke of nothing but triumph. Catch me if you can! he seemed to say. He had to think—there had to be another way to prove himself, to get back what he’d earned. Why should a slimy lawyer who offended Norcross’s very senses be allowed to roam free and helping others as mired in the dirt stay off the streets as well? It was his job, and it wasn’t finished. Not yet. He’d earned his benefits, and no one would take them from him. There was an off-licence down the road which was open until three in the morning. He’d grab a few more cans of beer, get a takeaway and regroup. Yes, 217

that was a better idea. Tucking his wallet into his jeans pocket and throwing on a jacket with his house keys rattling inside, Norcross left his house in a hazed blur. Had he really drunk that much? He barged into a few late-night revellers and grunted distastefully at them. They laughed. Was that at him? If it was a different time, he’d say something. But he was retired now. Without that shield of the force to protect him, he was naked. Fucking Mamione, he thought, his back teeth grinding with fury. On either side of him, two more people knocked into his shoulders. This time, he said something. “What’s your fucking problem?” “You,” the one on his left said. He found his arms grabbed and the distinct clicking sound of handcuffs. Before he could say a word he was hustled into a car. It skidded from the pavement and into the empty road. “What the fuck!” he yelped. Struggling to release his arms, even though he knew it was futile, he glanced to the passenger on his left. Rocco Mamione gave him a polite smile. “Good morning.” Norcross struggled harder, opening his mouth to call attention to anyone on the street. Someone in 218

front of him turned around and brushed a white cloth under his nose. He sneezed and retched all at once. Rocco Mamione wasn’t looking at him, only tugging on black leather gloves. The last thing he heard before he passed out was, “We can do this in fifteen minutes, right?”

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Freezing cold water raked at Norcross’s face. Where was he now? It was barely lit, but he could tell he was in a warehouse, from his upside down view. He recoiled when his eyes connected with Rocco Mamione’s black gaze. “You haven’t got a long time left on this earth.” Fear choked him suddenly. All the time he’d chased the Mamione family, their danger to him hadn’t crossed his mind once. “So think of me as your priest.” “What would I know that you don’t?” he spluttered. “You got me off the force, isn’t that enough?” Rocco gave the barest of smiles. “No. It’s not. I told you, strike three.” “I can’t do anything else now!” he lied. “Forgive me if I don’t want to take that risk. What do you have on my firm?” “Nothing!” “That can’t be the case. As soon as that money was transferred to Ms. Taylor, you jumped on her. It was a private settlement.” “It was a guess.” “No, that’s not altogether true, is it.” 220

Norcross found his spine. “See, it’s frustrating when someone doesn’t tell the truth, isn’t it?” He suddenly heard the echo of a gun chamber being loaded. It echoed across the warehouse like a firework. “Bored!” someone called out. “Good point,” Rocco agreed. “Someone must have told you, so who?” “Enzo Vitale’s solicitors,” he said quickly. There had to be a bargain to get out of this. “They told me that their client had concerns.” “That is bullshit. No one, not even Enzo Vitale, is that stupid.” Norcross swallowed, desperately trying to moisten his arid throat. Hanging upside down was making him feel nauseous and dizzy. “If I tell you...” “No deals.” “You can’t just—” “Finish that sentence and I’ll put a razor blade under your fingernails. Who?” “Me! I’ve been tracking you for years.” Rocco leaned back on his heels. “Why don’t I believe you? See, fact of the matter is, you’re not that good at your job. You never were. You just. Got. Lucky. So, for the last time, who told you?” “Imogen,” he gasped, “Imogen Barnes.” 221

“I told you that bitch was crazy!” another voice in the dark blazed. Rocco didn’t take his eyes from Norcross. “She used her husband’s details with your firm’s bank and gave me a copy of the statement. Her husband can access company accounts, so she accessed your firm’s and told me. Now you know. Now let me go.” “Why would I do that?” “No one’s going to believe that I’ve just vanished.” “Your misfortune, Norcross, is that no one cares,” Rocco said simply, turning away. “As far as anyone else is concerned, you’ve gone on a long and well-deserved holiday.” When the bullet struck him in the forehead, Norcross was asking God for forgiveness.  Anna had been staring up at the ceiling for the last three hours, pretending that she was all right with Rocco gone. Birds were chirping with the dawn. Lights from passing cars roved from one end of the room to the other. For some reason, she thought she’d be able to go back to sleep, but her mind was on hyper-drive. 222

A variety of scenarios were plaguing her, all featuring Rocco close to death or dead. She had a shower to calm down. It didn’t work. She made herself a hot chocolate with so much whisky in it, most of it ended up down the sink after she coughed the alcohol up. Funny how despite their history, it didn’t even occur to Anna that Rocco could be with another woman. In fact, she’d love to see him try to have sex with another woman after what they’d done tonight. She made her way back to her room to pull on clothes and bundled her hair up to the top of her head in a careless knot. Rocco’s first mistake was to tell her where his spare gun was. His second was to abandon his phones. The passcodes were burned into her brain. It would take seconds to unlock them and find out where he’d gone. Rocco was a planner. Everything would be somewhere for him to record, even if it needed to be deleted at a later date. She tapped the gun against her thigh impatiently. With a sigh, she exchanged the gun for her own phone and dialled Beppe. It went straight to his answering machine, but she left a stirring message. “You’ve got five minutes to call me back and tell me where my man is.” He called her back in two. “It’s the Master.” “Where is he?” 223

“Chill out, woman, we’re just coming to the house now.” She breathed out slowly, tears of relief stinging her eyes. “Good.” “You shouldn’t worry so much. We wouldn’t be able to stay in trouble if we got Rocks into some.” “Now I can tell you to shut up.” She heard the gentle roar of a car outside the house and without a thought for keys, she threw open the front door. The car had barely stopped moving before Rocco was out and heading toward her. If any doubt lingered in her mind that they weren’t meant to be or she was fooling herself by being with him, it vanished the moment she was in Rocco’s arms. Wrapped around him like a python was a more accurate description of how she clung to him, legs locked at his waist and arms tight on his neck. Her fingers automatically began to search for injury. She inspected his scalp, and then peered down the front of his shirt. “Annie, what are you doing?” “Making sure there’s nothing that needs medical attention.” He grinned. “Not medical...” She nudged him with her knees in disapproval. “I’m fine, I promise. It’s only what I needed to do. Just this once, Tempesta.” 224

“Damn right. Let me go a minute.” He released her and, barefooted, Anna padded to the car. Beppe rolled down the window and begged, “Don’t hit me, Annie, he made me drive.” She instead leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for bringing him back.” Beppe went tomato red. “Er, there are some other dudes who’d appreciate that thanks. Especially since you’re braless.” “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she muttered. “Which car?” He pointed in the direction of where a second car was resting on the other side of the road. A quick look across the road and she skipped over. She’d only met Tony and Nick once, and honestly, she’d forgotten how big they both were until they got out of the car. “I hope you’re reserving the violence for your boy over there,” Nick offered. “We just followed him along.” “Stop lying,” Anna admonished. “I heard you’re going to be a dad soon.” He shrugged. “As I’ve told my wife, the kid’s screwed.” She smiled and went on tiptoes to catch his cheek with her lips. “Not really. Thank you.” 225

Tony didn’t let her say thank you before she was dangling in the air from his arms. “You’re welcome. I did all the work, Rocky just watched as per usual.” Anna hadn’t seen Rocco even cross the road, but he had a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Mate, let go.” “You’re going on like I haven’t got a wife who wouldn’t hesitate to cut my balls off.” Tony snorted. “Thank you,” Anna said again, as Tony put her gently down on the tarmac. Rocco picked her up and said something in Italian to the two men, who bent over laughing in response. “You understand I have to tie you to a bed for at least twenty-four hours to compensate for tonight?” His dark eyes glinted in the streetlights. “I’ve got no problem with that.”  Revenge was all very well and good, but it all came down to the same thing. Imogen Barnes had a baby. “I know it doesn’t make up for a thing that bitch did, but what else can I do?” Anna asked, rubbing her hands on her face. Rocco felt it was only right that Anna knew what Imogen’s role had been in her arrest and about Norcross’s unnatural interest in them both. 226

“Set her straight,” he said. “Or you will?” Rocco’s mouth flickered with a smile. “Let’s just say, if I had my way, she’d be a pile of ashes floating in the Solent. Like Norcross.” Too much? he thought, watching Anna’s eyes widen with surprise. “She’s your friend. I’m leaving it to you.” “Her son’s eight months old. Barely.” “Do him a favour then. Set her straight so she can be a better mother.” Anna made a growling sound in her throat. “I want to kill her. Dude, how do you not just end people on a daily basis?” “What makes you think I don’t?” He grinned. “You’re actually good at your job,” she dismissed. “Which one?” “The legit one.” He nodded. “Ah. It’s a trial of patience. But haven’t you given her enough chances?” Anna sighed. “Plenty.” “There will always be someone who can take advantage of our situation unless you know their weak points. What’s hers? She’s always had yours down pat.” 227

She shrugged. “Money.” “Is that all? Annie, you’ve got her over a barrel.” Turning away, Anna presented him with her profile. “You need to come too.” “I like watching you in action,” he said gently. “Uh uh, it’s so you see what’ll happen to you if you cross me.” Rocco’s smile widened instantly. “You know you’re just turning me on.”

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Imogen’s panic showed the minute she laid eyes on Anna. “What do you want?” Rocco imagined that it was the tone of utter defiance in Imogen’s voice that set Anna off. She punched her. In the face. Again. Imogen went flying into her own corridor. Rocco picked up Anna’s fire-hot hand and kissed the soon to be bruised knuckles. “Witnesses,” he suggested. “I couldn’t give a fuck,” she dismissed, rubbing her hand. “May we come in?” Rocco asked dryly. Imogen scrambled to her feet as Anna stalked inside first, Rocco close behind her. He took the briefest look around the elaborate decor of the house. Imogen had time on her hands. He followed Anna into the living room as Imogen chased after them. “I don’t know why you’re abusing me. I should call the police.” Anna held up a hand. “I’ve already seen that show at Wembley, and I want my money back,” she snapped. “What? I don’t understand.”

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“I need to lay down the terms and conditions of you having a future where you’re still breathing. Neil’s going to lose his job,” Anna explained, sitting down and crossing her legs. Rocco was completely distracted by the motion. It probably wasn’t the best idea for him to be here. He wasn’t sure that it’d be useful for him to throw Imogen out of her own home so he could have some alone time with his woman. Imogen clenched her fists. “You can’t sack him!” Anna held out a hand. “Let me explain this to you. Me, partner of a firm. Your husband, man who allowed his wife to access confidential corporate information in breach of Data Protection. All I’d have to do is inform his bank, and there would follow a FSA investigation, he would get struck off, he wouldn’t be able to get a job cleaning cash points, you can’t pay your mortgage, you move back in with your parents. Does that sound like a future you want to invest in?” “You don’t understand,” Imogen cried. “That police fucker, he threatened me. I didn’t have a choice.” “Did you lose Anna’s number?” Rocco asked. At her blank look, he clarified, “Unless you lost her number, you had a choice as to what to do.”

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“This is your fault!” she flashed. “If she is stupid enough to jump into bed with you knowing what you are, then this sort of shit will keep on happening!” Anna smirked. “Oh really? Let’s talk about stupid. Stupid, is trying to fuck me over twice. Twice. Especially when you consider jut how much I know about you.” Rocco glanced over at Imogen, who looked pale. “Why are you saying this to me? What about Milo?” “Milo is the only reason I haven’t ripped your head off and used it for bowling.” Anna’s voice was little less than fired steel. “Stop playing me.” “Then what do you want?” “Silence would be a start,” Rocco offered. “Just that. You stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours. Or else, no husband, no money, no life. Is that enough of an incentive for you to shut the hell up?” Imogen’s eyes welled, and Rocco sighed deeply. Was she seriously trying the wobbly bottom lip deal with them? “I can’t believe you’d use my baby against me.” “You should know that Anna’s being very generous with you. Much more than I would’ve been and still could be if she says the word. Just one word.” 231

“You’re welcome.” Anna got to her feet. “I’m done, let’s go.” She held out her hand to Rocco, who took it. Imogen stepped in front of them, blocking their exit. “Something I can help you with?” he asked mildly. “I was protecting her from you. You know you’re going to drag her down and she’ll need me.” “I am standing right here,” Anna interrupted. “Please don’t lie and tell me that any of this was for me, when it was really to get some sick satisfaction from getting one over me. Again!” “That’s not true.” “I know he’s ridiculously pretty, but he’s just a man,” Anna said quietly. Rocco felt rather insulted until Anna put her hand on his thigh. Ah, it wasn’t for him, it was for Imogen. “Then why’d you have to have him?” she heaved. Anna shook her head. “Because, for the millionth time, you stupid woman, he wanted to be with me.” “I still want to be with her,” Rocco added. Imogen sent him a look of such desperation, it made bile rise in his throat. Maybe he was like his father, inspiring all sorts of madness in women. “No, Imogen.” She opened her mouth and he shook his 232

head gently once. “I would love for you to test me, because there’s an envelope waiting to be delivered to your husband. See if he’ll be as understanding as you think we should be.” “With what?” “Everything you don’t want him to know, if he doesn’t already. Like I said. Test me.” Imogen looked at Anna, fear chasing cross her face. “You can’t let him.” Anna’s hand squeezed Rocco’s. “Just keep out of my life and he won’t.” She didn’t say anything else as they left. He could tell that Anna was conflicted, but what else could she want to happen to someone who had no concept of loyalty, friendship or support in the truest sense? Besides, Imogen would be more dangerous if there was nothing holding her back. At least with the threat of Neil knowing exactly what his wife had done in the course of their marriage, Imogen would be safer. “Are you okay?” he asked as they pulled up outside Anna’s home. “I may need to punch something again, but I’ll be okay,” she admitted. He unbuckled her seat belt, then his own and tugged her into his arms. “Your 233

friends better have amazing wives, because I’m not hanging around any more crazy women.” Rocco was glad she couldn’t see his expression. No way could he lie straight faced about that.  Enzo Vitale strode from his solicitors’ offices, seething with rage. Even though fear had prevented his legal team from billing him an absurd five thousand for landing him in acres of shit, it didn’t excuse them from the hell that would rain down on that firm. He would deal with each and every one of them later. How dare they tell him that he was lucky? Lucky that Nonna Mamione hadn’t taken more money from him. Bullshit! What he really needed was a favour from Massimo Da Canaveze. He needed to teach that crazy Mamione bitch a lesson, but because of how close Rocco was to Nick, he’d only get what he wanted if he went to the Father. The easiest thing to do would be to press on Massimo’s relationship with his late father. Guilt had always worked to his advantage, and there was nothing that made him consider that it wouldn’t

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be the same in this situation. Massimo and his father had been close, as far as his father had made out. Spotting his car, he wrenched the passenger door open and thrust himself inside. “Kensington,” he snapped. His driver took a while putting the Bentley into gear. “Any time to-fucking-day!” The car smoothly pulled away from the curb and into traffic. Enzo quickly phoned Massimo Da Canaveze, to press a meeting and his much-needed favour. His rage would not be dissipated until one or all Mamiones had paid for the insult. The dialling tone told him that Massimo was out of the country. “What can I do for you?” Massimo asked, once Enzo had introduced himself and apologised for disturbing him. “It’s about the Mamione family. I can’t help but feel insulted.” “You brought that upon yourself.” Enzo blinked. Had he heard correctly? Was he being blamed for this? “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand.” “That is patently the problem,” Massimo said with impatience. “A lack of understanding. There are certain families that you do not interfere with. The Mamiones are high on that list. A large proportion of 235

your wealth is attributable to the Mamiones and the work they have done. Your present situation is entirely self-inflicted.” “But, sir, I—” “Goodbye, Enzo.” The call ended abruptly, leaving Enzo staring open mouthed at his phone. He screamed in absolute fury, making the shoulders of his driver pop up in shock. “Keep driving!” He tried to redial Massimo and was told by an emotionless female voice that the number he had called was no longer connected. It took him several minutes to regain his composure. Throwing his phone out of the car would be pointless. He glanced up and realised that he was not on the way to Kensington at all. He was heading into South London. The ugly South London that people pretended didn’t exist. “Where the fuck is this? This isn’t what I asked!” “I didn’t think it’d be!” Nonna Mamione yelled over her shoulder, shifting her cap and dislodging a foot of pearl grey hair. “Itchy bastard thing.” Enzo reached for the doors and they were all automatically locked. “Just sit back,” Nonna told him. “I haven’t driven for a while, but it’s like riding a bike.”

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Enzo clutched the seat of the car in panic. What the hell was going on? “What is this?” The car gently pulled up to a corner. “Making sure you don’t harass any other young ladies in my age range. And I quite like this car too. Massimo said I should keep it.” He reached again for the door handle, and found it yanked away from him. A pair of long legs nudged him out of the way. “Lock it up, Nonna!” a male voice ordered as blond-haired Beppe Nardiello sat down and slammed the car door shut. Nonna shifted back into the traffic, and before Enzo could say another word he felt the sharp stab of a needle in his neck. Instantly, his muscles seized, paralysed with whatever concoction was in that syringe. “Drive on, Nonna. Enzo and I have things to do!” With a broad cackle, Nonna put her foot down on the accelerator. Unable to move, all Enzo could do was beg for this to be quick.

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Anna was reading up on a practice note before completing a compromise agreement when a knock sounded on her door. Bernie popped her head around the wood. “There’s a nail technician here for you?” Anna blinked. “What?” “Yeah, she said she’s been paid to give you a shape and polish in your favourite colour.” “No one knows what my favourite colour is,” Anna admonished. “Rouge Noir.” “Damn.” Her mind instantly went to Rocco, and she called him. His phone went straight to voice mail. She called his secretary. “Hello, Ms. Taylor. He’s out at court. You know I can’t say when he’ll be back.” Grr. She sent a text even as the technician turned on her kettle and set up a station on Anna’s desk, packing away her files and placing them on a chair. What are you up to? “This is sweet,” the technician said as she massaged cuticle oil into Anna’s naked nails. “I’ve

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never had a bloke pay for his girlfriend’s manicure as a surprise.” “My boyfriend?” “Yeah, he said make her nails as vamp as she is.” The technician laughed. She glanced up and saw Anna was unimpressed with the comparison. “Don’t jiggle like that, please, I’ll smear it on your skin.” What was he up to? Christ, more like what had he done that he was trying to make up for? She had to be honest, she didn’t think their meeting with her parents had gone particularly well. Anna’s mother wasn’t totally au fait with “live and let live” and didn’t accept that there’d been a misunderstanding. The suspicious looks she kept shooting at Rocco and Anna’s bare ring finger only heightened Anna’s discomfort. On the other hand, Rocco and her father had a rather deep discussion in the living room alone. “What was that about?” she’d demanded when they’d left. Rocco had given her a slow, lingering kiss. “Man talk. Me and your dad understand each other now.” Maybe he was trying to calm her before she met his mother tonight. Even so, surprises were not helping.

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The technician even refused a tip when she finished the perfect manicure and disappeared. Bernie asked, “Do you need me to lift things?” “You can come and open the files before I smudge the stupid thing. I’ll love you forever,” Anna called back, blowing on the still damp varnish. Rocco didn’t call her back, and it really started to play on her nerves. She had a new client appointment in the afternoon, and she’d rather not present herself as a distracted wreck. Hardly inspired confidence. Mimi came to take her for lunch. “What are you doing here?” Anna demanded. Mimi raised her eyebrows. “Er, you’re welcome? Suspicious bitch, just eat your food. I’m never taking you out ever again.” “Why are you?” “Because if I hadn’t dragged your sorry arse to that strip club, I wouldn’t have met Beppe and I wouldn’t have what is the greatest job on earth. So thank you. And this isn’t happening again.” Anna felt a tiny bit guilty. “Thank you.” “Nice manicure,” Mimi said in such a glib manner, Anna was instantly on the Colombo. “You know something!”

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Mimi finished her apple juice. “Think I can still operate if I ask for a shot of sambucca?” “Amelia Johnson!” “If you pay, will that make you feel better?” Mimi drawled. “Possibly.” “Then go forth and Visa it. Which means I will have a dessert or two.” “Go ahead.” She could really do with a Nonna cake. Without wanting to think too hard about what secret ingredients were in the sponge or the cream, they always made her feel better. Nonna had the right connections to put a whole bunch of soothing narcotics in the cakes. “You look like you need a hit of something.” Mimi laughed. “I think Nonna puts something in her cakes. I’m really craving one.” Mimi rubbed her forehead. “You’re really making me wish for drugs now.” Anna found herself unceremoniously returned to her office after trying to convince Mimi to take her south to get at least a grape and pistachio gateaux. Mimi said “no” in a manner that made Anna feel like a sex offender. 241

She wandered back into her office and came to a grinding halt at the sight of the huge box on the desk. “Bernie!” she yelped. Her secretary jumped. “Who the hell brought that?” “I don’t know, I went to get a wrap and a can of Coke!” Bernie nudged her. “Open it.” “What if it’s a bomb?” Bernie looked over Anna’s shoulder and they both screamed when the box moved. “Bombs don’t move.” Urged by Bernie, Anna approached her desk. Circling it, she sat down and pulled the box onto her lap. Box, bowed, holes in the top. Whimpers coming from inside. In a rush she opened it, and a small, fluffy white thing launched at her. “It’s a puppy!” Bernie cried. “Ohmigod, it’s so cute! Can I hold it?” Rocco had bought her a puppy. She’d never been allowed a pet growing up, and she’d told him that in passing years ago, and he’d remembered. With its wild coat, the dog did have an uncanny resemblance to her. It touched its nose to her own, scrambling up her chest to lick her face, and she gave a tearful laugh. “Hi, beautiful!” she murmured. “How dare Daddy put you in a box? Oh Jesus, I called Rocco Daddy.” Anna let go 242

of the dog, and he would have slid off her lap onto the floor if she hadn’t caught him. The puppy huffed, arched its neck to look at her, and then settled in her arms. “Okay, baby, we are getting you insured, ordering you some designer shiz, and definitely getting you regular beauty treatments. I can tell, there’s African woman in you, you want to look after your hair.” “I like it, maternal instincts there,” Rocco teased. He was leaning in the doorway, hands inside the pockets of a suit that swords could be sharpened on. “Why are you buying me gifts?” Anna threw at him instantly, covering the puppy’s ears. “What did you do?” Rocco laughed. “Tempesta, I haven’t done anything.” “I don’t believe you. You’ve been all sneaky about something.” “Have a look at Chase’s collar.” “You named my puppy?” she said, her voice dangerously low. Rocco stepped inside her office and closed the door. “I had to, the breeder wouldn’t sell him to me unless I gave him a name. It was the first one that came to mind.” 243

Anna didn’t quite take her eyes off him as she felt for the puppy’s collar. “Okay, beautiful, what’s wrong with your collar.” Her voice died in her throat when her fingers touched circular metal. “The dog’s an Italian Bolognese. The jeweller is British. The diamonds are African. Ethically sourced. If you wear it, just don’t hit anyone with it, you’ll take a good chunk of skin and bone with it.” He wasn’t joking. The canary yellow diamond was pretty big. If that didn’t hurt, then the smaller white diamonds surrounding it would definitely leave their mark. Why was she thinking of it as a weapon? Her hands started to shake. Chase gave a yelping bark and licked her knuckle as if trying to comfort her. “Let me help,” Rocco said softly, kneeling by her chair to untie the ring from the puppy. He was on his knees before her. And it had nothing to do with sex. The ring slid from the ribbon, the same shade of red as her nails. He held it up between his forefinger and thumb. “This is for surviving six years without each other, God only knows how. It’s for getting over lies and mistrust. It’s my apology to you for everything that went wrong, my promise that you will never need to doubt me or my love for you. May I?” He reached 244

around the puppy and fit the ring to her finger. The yellow set off her skin perfectly. “Oh Rocky,” she whispered. “This ring is awesome, but the puppy is so much cooler.” He grinned and leaned up to touch his mouth to her eyebrow. “Are you going to marry me?” “Course I am!” She carefully put the puppy on her desk and then wrapped her arms around Rocco’s neck, tightly. It took every little bit of control to not start bawling. “I’m a mess,” she grumbled, wiping a hand under her eyes. “I’ve got an appointment in ten minutes!” Rocco leaned back to kiss her tears away. “I’ll look after Chase.” What? Puppy and man out of sight? “No, he’ll be good if he stays! You stay too,” she offered. “You’re very good.” “Right. Well. Thank you, but I’m not sure your new client would be impressed.” The puppy went skidding on her notepad before he landed on his furry little bottom and sneezed. Rocco glanced between her and the puppy. “If there was a fire at home, you’d save the puppy first, wouldn’t you?”

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“You’re fine,” Anna said distractedly, kissing him. “I’m thinking I should have saved the puppy for... Annie, are you listening?” “Hmm?” She looked up from where her beautiful little pet was munching on the corner of her desk. “I like you.” “Like?” he echoed in disbelief. “I just asked you to marry me, and you like me?” “Yes. And I love my puppy.” Rocco slowly got to his feet. “Yeah, my mum’s not going to be impressed.” “About what?” Anna demanded, stroking Chase’s spine. “Your heart’s not broken any more, we’ve got a grandbaby here, so what would she be unimpressed about?” Rocco shook his head. “I really should have talked the dog thing through with your dad properly.” Anna stood up as well. “That’s what you two were whispering about in the corner?” “I have no desire to die at your father’s hands, and he made it pretty clear that I would if you didn’t have a ring on your finger by the end of the month.” “My dad’s a pacifist as well, so I’m glad you saw sense.” 246

Rocco gently touched his hand to her jaw so she could look at him. “Even if he’d told me he’d kill me if I didn’t stay away, I’d have asked you anyway. Death or no death.” She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump of tears. “You’re starting to catch up with the puppy.” Rocco leaned around her and caught Chase with one hand, just as he was about to take a flying leap from the edge of the table. “Good to know.” She sighed. “I would say give us five minutes, but I can’t have a f-u-c-k in front of the p-u-p-p-y.” Rocco made a sound of utter exasperation. “I’m confiscating the puppy.” “You can’t do that!” “I will until you regain your normal sense of rationality.” “You shouldn’t have bought him for me then.” The phone rang once for the intercom. “Anna, your client’s here!” Anna, with Chase clutched to her chest, marched to the door and opened it. “Out you go. We can philosophise on rationality another day.” “Woman, you have a puppy on your chest like you’re about to start breast feeding.” 247

Anna opened her mouth to say something particularly cutting but was interrupted. “I’m interrupting a marital argument already?” Blouse and skirt, it’s Rocco’s mum. “Mrs. Mamione. Hi.” The older woman gave a hesitant smile. “Is everything all right? Did you say yes?” “I did, but now he’s being mean about my puppy.” Anna appealed instantly to his mother’s softer side. She didn’t know if the woman had one at all, but using the puppy’s paw to wave at Carmen Mamione worked immediately. “Rocco, why are you being mean to your fiancée?” Rocco sighed deeply, while Anna gave a rather evil laugh of satisfaction. “I’m not! I’m being ganged up on now.” “Well come along, and we’ll talk it out. Sensibly. Anna, get your bag please.” With Chase tucked under her arm, she turned to pick up her bag. Rocco was at her side to whisper in her ear, “Enjoy it for now, Tempesta. We’ll see who’s being mean when you’re in my bed later.” She grinned. “Game on, Mamione. I’ve got your weak spots.” 248

He curled an arm around her waist to lead her out of the office. “You don’t count.” “We’ll see.”

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Michelle Taylor wasn’t a woman who was convinced by a nice face and a charming smile. It made sense that she wasn’t at all convinced by her daughter’s future husband. She’d done her utmost to raise her children to respect themselves first and demand the same from anyone who dared cross their paths. Anna was her pride and joy. Mothers weren’t supposed to even think that, let alone say it out loud, but Michelle did and it was all true. Anna had Michelle’s brains, her father’s wit and her grandmother’s fine legs. All she’d ever hoped for her daughter was a man to match all that Anna was capable of and more. Rocco Mamione was that on paper and in the flesh. But he had damaged her child once. Taken the shine from her eyes for too long, and in Michelle’s experience, it only meant a repeat performance was on the way. When her husband told her that Rocco had asked his permission to marry Anna, Michelle frostily said, “I hope you said no.” “I’m not going to be responsible for taking that doe-eyed look from my daughter’s face. Besides, he knows I’ll happily kill him if he makes my little girl 250

cry.” Unhelpfully, a smile lifted Michelle’s features. She always got slightly overexcited when her husband became defensive about their children. Her husband turned serious. “Give him a chance, Shellie. Anna’s big enough to deal with him with her eyes closed and her hands tied behind her back.” Easier said than done. With everyone, absolutely everyone and their pet parrot telling her how happy Anna was and how much they were looking forward to the wedding, all Michelle could do was put a gloss on it. Smile and acknowledge that her daughter had made a decision and she was old enough to learn from her own mistakes without her mother running in and screaming, Don’t do it! So she was polite when she needed to be, helpful if there was no other option, and didn’t comment on the fact that her daughter’s wedding dress was far too low cut. To make matters worse, that terrible boy pulled the charm thing on her. He started with shy smiles and “hello Mrs. Taylor’s,” which always worked on her. Who knew she loved being called Mrs. Taylor? It ticked her ring finger every time without fail and made her grin. Damn the boy. So he was in his early thirties—he was still a boy to her.

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At Rocco and Anna’s engagement party, he sat next to her and passed her a huge slice of his grandmother’s cake. As utterly insane as that old woman was, she made a damn good sponge. “It’s apricot and almond.” Michelle had a weakness for any cake with nuts in it. Dammit. “Can I ask your advice?” Rocco asked gently. Michelle choked on her cake. Her children never asked for advice. Goddammit, that was a mother’s ultimate weakness. Nosing. “Hmph,” Michelle replied. Rocco took it as a yes. “My dad asked if he could bring someone to the wedding. I didn’t even let him finish the sentence before I said absolutely not. Mama asked me about a half hour ago if she could bring her new boyfriend. I can’t tell her no. She needs someone with her, like Mr. Taylor has you.” Suck up, Michelle thought, despite her cheeks glowing with pleasure. “What did Anna say?” He laughed. “Your daughter told me that I would be the one to live with it, as she planned on spending most of the wedding drunk.” “My God, that girl’s her father’s child,” Michelle sighed. “Although she is right, you’re the one who’ll have to live with it. Talk to your mum. Does she really 252

need to have her boyfriend there? Just for argument’s sake, how long have they been going out?” “Three weeks.” Michelle rolled her eyes. “For goodness’ sake, your mum can manage. She gave birth to five children,” she interrupted his protest. Sweet child, he wanted to defend his mother. “She can handle being without her boyfriend of three whole weeks for a maximum of four hours. Isn’t that fair? No favourites that way. Or at least, no girlfriends or boyfriends until the evening bit, after photographs.” Rocco sent her a smile that made her feel she was signing a devil’s contract. “Thank you, Mrs. Taylor.” “Call me Michelle,” she offered begrudgingly. “All right, Mrs. Taylor,” he replied, leaning over to kiss her cheek. Michelle’s cheeks turned a fiery red. Naughty boy. She spent Anna’s wedding day mostly in tears, so she only partly paid attention to her son-in-law. The adoration in his eyes bypassed her, the worshipful tone in his vows were ignored completely, and his thanks to her and Anna’s father was lost in the haze that she was giving away her baby girl to a man who had so much control. Only when she opened her 253

present solely from Rocco—“I had nothing to do with it,” Anna claimed—did Michelle’s eyes dry with shock. In a white silk bed sat a string of black pearls. Michelle had a weakness for black pearls. Her husband had bribed her on many occasions with black pearls. “Clever boy,” she muttered, instantly switching the pearls she had on for the new necklace. “Don’t you look pretty?” Rocco complimented. “Stop buttering me up!” Michelle fumed only for the evil boy to laugh her off. It didn’t stop him from sending Michelle and Anna on a short girly holiday before Anna had her honeymoon. “What’s he doing?” Michelle asked at the airport. “Making sure you understand that you have gained a very thoughtful son and you still have a daughter. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on Chase. That dog takes after Rocco. Trouble the minute my back is turned.” “Ah ha! So he is trouble!” “Ma, have you just met me?” That was true. The girly holiday was followed by regular dinners, Rocco soliciting Michelle’s advice every now and again, especially when he wanted to buy his wife a gift. “She thinks I’ve done something wrong.” 254

“Have you?” Michelle demanded. “I’m a paragon of virtue,” Rocco replied. “Your daughter corrupted me.” It made her laugh. He always managed to do that. And bring her cakes from crazy old Nonna. She wanted to hold on to her belief that he was a bad seed, but dammit if that naughty, irascible boy wasn’t making her change her mind. The day that Anna gave birth to her own daughter was the day Michelle finally let go. Rocco brought out her creamy-skinned granddaughter and eased her into Michelle’s arms. “Please don’t let me kill every boy who looks at her. I don’t want her to have to visit me in prison.” Michelle burst out laughing. “We let you live, didn’t we?” Rocco distractedly stroked his thumb over his daughter’s forehead. “That’s because you love me.” Michelle looked up from her granddaughter’s yawn. “You know, that’s actually true.” His smile was the seal on her soul, bound to the devil. “Knew it.”

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Thank you for reading. To read more stories in the Italian Knights series, check out the following:  Windows (Nick and Gina)  On Caristo’s Watch (Tony and Lydia)

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Ah, poor Billy. The only girl between two boys who each have nearly a foot on her. Didn't stop her from starting physical fights with them. She still thinks she can take them. So while she used to hide away in her wardrobe to read a book or four, she started to question why the heroines in those books would just lie there and take it. No, not just sex, but downright JamesBond-backhand-slapping, do-as-you're-told-woman, inappropriate lie there and take it. She couldn't understand it. These women were just playing that mental woman from Coming to America, Miss “Whatever You Like” who barked like a dog and hopped on one foot. Billy didn't want to do that. Definitely not because one emptyheaded fool with different anatomy told her to. So she started to create characters and worlds where the women could own their sexuality, their intelligence, their right to turn around and say “jog on, mate” without apology. The small problem was that other people wanted to read what she was had written. “Er...why?” didn't cut it as an answer. After years of prodding and pleading and come on and for goodness’ sake, what's the point otherwise, she closed her eyes and pressed “submit.” Actually, she had Prosecco, limencello and white wine, then pressed “submit.” Who would have thought people would actually enjoy reading about the crazy characters who live in her head? But they have done, and Billy feels rather proud of that connection with her fellow man. Billy lives in London with the most patient family in the world and doesn't forget for a minute how lucky she is. Well, she wouldn't mind a BBC adaptation of one of her novels... Ooh, with Richard Armitage!