The Claim (20 page)

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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 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 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 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 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.”

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.

Chapter Twenty-two

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 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.

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.”