Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN BESIDE THE KING
Z
Three weeks later, London expected a war.
None came.
Mateo Russo was dead.
Dryland was dead.
Declan Shaw had returned to the shadows.
And Lorenzo DeLuca had returned home with a woman nobody in the organization dared call a stripper anymore.
Naomi Blake entered The Marlowe at Lorenzo’s side.
The room went silent.
Twenty-eight men stood.
Some had supported Lorenzo.
Some had supported Mateo.
A few had waited to see who survived before choosing anyone at all.
Lorenzo noticed every face.
Naomi did too.
Her bruises were gone.
She wore black trousers, heels, and a cream blouse beneath a long dark coat.
Nothing flashy.
Nothing designed to impress.
She did not need it.
Every person in the room knew she legally controlled forty-one percent of the DeLuca family’s legitimate companies.
That changed how people looked at her.
Naomi hated it.
She leaned toward Lorenzo.
“If one more man suddenly calls me ma’am, I’m leaving.”
Lorenzo almost smiled.
“Give it five minutes.”
He walked to the head of the table.
Mateo’s old chair had been removed.
Lorenzo had ordered it burned.
Naomi stood beside him.
Not behind him.
That was deliberate.
“Sit,” Lorenzo said.
Everybody obeyed.
He did not give a speech about loyalty.
He did not threaten anybody.
He placed one folder on the table.
“Mateo stole from us.”
Another folder.
“He sold information to Shaw.”
Another.
“He used our people against each other.”
Lorenzo looked around.
“Some of you believed him.”
Several men lowered their eyes.
“I don’t care.”
They looked up.
“I care what happens next.”
Naomi studied him.
This was a different Lorenzo from the man who had threatened to put her in the river inside that van.
Still dangerous.
Still hard.
But changed.
Maybe betrayal had not destroyed him.
Maybe it had stripped away the parts he had mistaken for strength.
Lorenzo continued.
“The old arrangement is finished.”
A man named Bellucci frowned.
“What arrangement?”
“The one where fear is supposed to equal loyalty.”
The room remained quiet.
Lorenzo pointed toward the legitimate shipping documents.
“We run clean where we can. Anyone who doesn’t like it leaves today.”
Someone laughed nervously.
Nobody moved.
Naomi crossed her arms.
“Cowards.”
Lorenzo glanced sideways.
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m not on payroll.”
“You own forty-one percent.”
“Unfortunately.”
The room heard her.
A few men smiled.
The tension broke.
Then the main door opened.
Carlo entered quickly.
“Boss.”
Lorenzo saw his expression.
“What?”
“We found something in Mateo’s penthouse.”
He handed Lorenzo an envelope.
Inside were financial records.
Photographs.
And one letter.
Lorenzo read it silently.
His face changed.
Naomi noticed.
“What?”
He gave her the letter.
It was written in Mateo’s handwriting.
If you are reading this, Lorenzo, I am probably dead.
You will think Shaw was my partner.
He wasn’t.
He was my insurance.
There is someone else.
Someone your father feared enough to hide from you.
Someone who has been buying pieces of your business for seven years.
Ask Naomi what her mother kept inside the blue box.
Naomi stopped breathing.
Lorenzo looked at her.
“What blue box?”
She folded the letter.
“My mother had one.”
“Where?”
“In our old flat.”
“You never mentioned it.”
“Because I thought it had jewelry and family photographs.”
“Do you still have it?”
Naomi hesitated.
“I gave everything from the flat to storage after she died.”
An hour later they stood in a storage facility in Brixton.
Dust covered the unit.
Boxes were stacked to the ceiling.
Naomi found the blue metal case beneath a bag of winter clothes.
Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
There were photographs.
Letters in Italian.
A gold crucifix.
And a cassette tape.
Lorenzo picked it up.
A handwritten label read:
FOR GIOVANNI, IF THEY FIND ME.
Naomi stared.
“My mother recorded that?”
They drove to the safe house.
Carlo found an old tape player.
The machine hissed.
Then Celeste Blake’s voice filled the room.
Naomi covered her mouth.
She had not heard her mother speak in seven years.
“If you are listening to this, Giovanni, then I failed to keep Naomi away from the family.”
Lorenzo and Naomi exchanged a look.
Celeste continued.
“Antonio did not die in Naples.”
Lorenzo leaned forward.
Naomi whispered, “My grandfather?”
“He survived. He went to Canada under another name. He believes the DeLuca companies belong to him.”
The recording crackled.
“I refused to help him. He threatened Naomi. Giovanni moved us to London and created the trust because he knew Antonio would eventually return.”
Lorenzo’s blood went cold.
Naomi looked at him.
“My grandfather is alive?”
The tape continued.
“He calls himself Anthony Blake now.”
Naomi stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
“No.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
“What?”
Naomi’s face had lost all color.
“Anthony Blake was my mother’s father.”
“Yes.”
“No, Lorenzo.”
Her voice shook.
“He didn’t disappear.”
She walked toward her handbag and pulled out her phone.
“He sends me birthday cards every year.”
Silence.
Lorenzo stared.
Naomi opened her contacts.
GRANDAD ANTHONY.
There were dozens of messages.
Christmas greetings.
Birthday wishes.
Questions about Amaya.
Questions about work.
Questions about Naomi’s life.
Lorenzo read one sent six months earlier.
How is the new job at Curtain Road?
His eyes hardened.
Mateo had approached Naomi at the club six months earlier.
Another message.
Be careful around Italian men, darling. They bring nothing but trouble.
Lorenzo looked at Naomi.
“He knew.”
Her phone began ringing.
GRANDAD ANTHONY.
Nobody moved.
Naomi stared at the screen.
Lorenzo quietly said, “Answer it.”
She did.
“Grandad?”
An elderly man’s warm voice came through.
“Naomi, sweetheart.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Where are you?”
A pause.
Then the warmth vanished.
“You found the tape.”
Naomi gripped the phone.
“Did you know what Mateo was doing?”
Anthony Blake sighed.
“Mateo became impatient.”
Lorenzo stepped closer.
Naomi whispered, “You knew.”
“I knew everything.”
Her knees nearly gave way.
“You let them take me.”
“I needed Lorenzo to find you.”
“Why?”
“Because Giovanni made one mistake when he created that trust.”
Anthony paused.
“He made you powerful enough to take Lorenzo’s empire.”
Naomi looked at Lorenzo.
May you like
Anthony continued.
“And now, sweetheart, I need you to do exactly that.”
