Dark Justice by Kristi Belcamino (most popular novels TXT) 📕

had stashed when I first arrived. I’d used my Aunt Eva’s special lined suitcase to bring them from Europe. It had secret compartments and was made with a material that withstood any type of X-ray machine—total spy stuff.

“It’s a hotel, Gia.”

“Right now, it’s my home!”

“Just tell them not to come in, no biggie.”

I glared at the pantsuit.

“Gia, be ready. I’ll be there at five sharp, and we’ll head upstairs.”

I gave the offending pantsuit another look.

“White’s not my color.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just wear the pantsuit.”

I made a face and hung up. Fuck the pantsuit.

I was admiring myself in the mirror when there was a knock at my door.

I hated to admit it, but as usual, Dante was right.

The white pantsuit looked fucking amazing on me. Who knew?

It fit like a dream. I wore the supple blazer without anything underneath, and it was cut low enough to reveal some skin but no boob. Excellent. The flowing pants were perfect with my gold stiletto sandals, and I looped some thick gold chains around my neck. They gleamed against the bronze skin of my chest.

Maybe white was my color.

There was another knock.

“Coming!”

I scooped up my bag and headed to the door.

When I flung it open, Dante stood there in a sharp black suit with a black shirt underneath.

“Hello, sailor!” I said enthusiastically, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “You look positively edible.”

“I’m gay, Gia,” he said dryly.

“Whatever,” I said. I leaned over and licked his cheek.

“Ew.”

“Oh, please,” I said. And then I stepped back and twirled. “You done good, D. Real good. It’s hard to believe, but you’ve become even more of a fashion plate since you married Wayne. How much do the two of you spend on clothes anyway?”

“Close to the GDP of a small country, I’d imagine,” he said without blinking.

He stepped back to admire me and let out a low whistle.

“Wow. I did nail it. Hit it out of the park. I might quit the restaurant business and start dressing celebrities for kicks.”

I mock glared. “No way. You’re all mine. I’m your only Dress-Up-Barbie-Bitch. I don’t share.”

“Thank God you listen to me,” he said. “At least most of the time.”

“The only reason I’m not wearing my “Fuck Authority” T-shirt is because Rose stole it from me.”

The first time we met with my father’s companies’ board, I wore the shirt. Dante was furious.

Now, we both burst into laughter at the memory and then quickly sobered. I missed that girl.

“What’s the news on Rose?” Dante asked, his brows knitting together.

I exhaled and shook my head. “She’s alive. She was in Florida recently. She’s tapped into her inheritance, so I don’t have to worry about her starving to death.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Dante asked.

“Yeah. I just miss her.”

“She never calls?”

I scoff. “No. Well, she did call Eva. That’s how I heard she was in Florida.”

Dante reached over and enveloped me in a hug. “She is just working some shit out. It probably hurts too much to be in touch with you right now.”

“I don’t get it,” I said. “I never pressure her in any way. I can’t think of anything I did to make her upset with me. I just don’t understand.”

“She’s carving her way in the world, Gia,” he said. “That girl has gone through the worst sorts of hell. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just give her time. And love her.”

“It’s impossible not to,” I said. “I just can’t help but worry about her and miss her.”

“Normal.”

He glanced at his watch.

“Darn! We’ve got to scoot,” he said.

“You’re so cute when you swear.”

He rolled his eyes as I locked up behind us.

We stepped into the elevator, and he held up a keycard to the scanner. When he did, a new floor I’d never seen appeared. “Skyview.”

“That’s magical,” I said.

“When we take over, we’ll give some people VIP cards to come during certain hours. We can program and issue cards for private events, we can hold high-level, top-secret business meetings. We will offer everything. We’ll be booked years ahead of time. It’s going to be awesome.”

“I love it,” I said.

“Now, this meeting is where I’ll introduce you to everyone as my colleague. Only a few people knew about our bid to buy the restaurant, so we’ll keep it under wraps.”

“Fine,” I said. Then thought of something. “I hope there’s booze during the meeting.”

“I doubt it.”

“Why not?” I said in a pouty voice. “It’s at the restaurant, right? Restaurants have alcohol, right? If I would’ve known that, I would’ve ordered drinks from room service before I left. This is lame.”

“Gia.” His voice sounded weary.

“If I’m going to sit through a yawn-worthy committee meeting, I need some booze,” I said. “If I would’ve thought of it, I would have brought a flask and secretly poured it into my coffee. Come on, Dante. I need something to take the edge off. These types of things bore me to tears.”

“What are you, twelve years old?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. You can have a drink. One drink.”

“Oh please.”

“One. Drink.”

I scoffed. “Sure. One drink.”

The elevator doors whooshed open, and the first thing I saw was a fully stocked bar across the room. The second thing I saw was James sitting in his wheelchair.

I froze. Dante froze and uttered a slight, surprised, “Oh.”

James’s eyes met mine, and a huge grin spread across his face. He looked older but not much. His black hair was tinged with gray. Smile lines extended from his eyes. His mahogany skin was flawless otherwise. But his smile was contagious. I could feel the grin spreading across my own face. James! Here. Now. My James. A beautiful woman with strawberry blonde hair stood behind him, holding onto the handles of his wheelchair somewhat possessively. I frowned. Where was his wife?

I’d soon find out.

“Well, I guess this isn’t going to be so bad after all,” I said and made my way over to James.

Eight

Charles watched her walk in, the bimbo in the white pantsuit.

He’d heard she was some rich bitch joining the fundraising gala board.

Fresh blood was what