Fearless: Mob Boss Book Two (Volume 2) by Michelle St. James Page A

friends?”
    Her face heated with annoyance. Is that what he thought of her? That she was some carefree twenty-something with nothing better to do than party?
    “I’m here to see my father’s office.”
    She saw him try to hide his surprise in the moment before he donned the trusty grin. “Why would you want to do that, honey? There’s nothing in there for you. It will just bring up bad memories.”
    Like almost everyone, Frank was under the impression that Angel had been caught in the crossfire between Nico—the man who kidnapped her—and her father. He knew that she’d finally been exposed to her father’s other business interests, but that was as far as it went. That was fine. She would use his condescension in her favor.
    “I need to see it, Uncle Frank.” She tried for an expression of grief-stricken angst. “I just do.”
    He nodded somberly. “I understand. They say closure is important in these things.”
    She didn’t know who “they” were, but she nodded anyway.
    “Come on.” He guided her past the receptionist toward a long, carpeted hallway. “How are you? How is David?”
    “We’re getting by.”
    There had been a time when Frank Morra had been as familiar to her as her own father, but she hadn’t really known him at all. She’d done a lot of reading on the Rossi crime empire since she’d returned from London, and while the extent of her father’s illegal dealings was murky to law enforcement, one thing was clear; whatever her father had been involved in, Frank Morra had been right alongside him. And that made him every bit as responsible for the reprehensible things her father had done. She and David would have to do something about him—about everything.
    They worked their way to the back of the giant office space and a shorter, more luxurious hall. Angel had a flash of memory; holding her mother’s hand, looking up at the carved wooden doors and the gold plaques that lined the hallway, David skipping along beside them.
    “I’m acting as interim Chairman, as you know,” Frank said as they approached the double doors at the end of the hall, “but it doesn’t feel right to do anything with your father’s belongings before someone permanent is appointed to the position. His office is just as he left it.”
    “I appreciate that,” she said, although really, she couldn’t have cared less about her father’s things.
    Frank opened the doors, and Angel’s eyes swept the expanse of lush gray carpet and modern furniture, the sunlight muted through the walls of tinted glass at the other end of the room.
    “Can I have Theresa get you something?” Frank asked. “Water? Scotch?”
    She shook her head. “I’d just like to be alone for a bit.”
    He squeezed her shoulder. “I understand, honey. We’re all here for you if you need anything. Don’t forget to say goodbye before you leave. I’m right next door.”
    He stepped into the hallway, and she wondered if he’d left the door open intentionally.
    It didn’t matter. This was her company now.
    She shut the door and crossed to the big windows. The vantage point was expansive, looking out over the city and beyond to a sliver of the harbor. How many times had her father stood here, looking at this very same view? How much of the city’s crime was a result of the businesses he had run from this room? How many people had been hurt?
    Her stomach turned over at the thought, and she spun around to face the room. She didn’t have time to agonize over the choices her father had made, to look behind her. There was only forward motion now. Help Nico. Dismantle her father’s business with the Syndicate. Get rid of Rossi Development. Move on.
    In that order.
    She studied the room, then moved toward the big cabinet that sat against one wall. She started with the cupboard doors that fronted the piece, opening them quietly in case Frank could hear her next door in his office. But the cabinet didn’t tell her anything other than the fact that