Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [104]
Roulette was not his usual game of choice, but tonight he felt like playing a different game. Tonight he had a strong feeling that one way or the other he would force Lucky Santangelo’s hand. He didn’t know how, but it would happen, because he was all-powerful. Lucky Santangelo might think she had won, but what she didn’t realize was that Armand Jordan was invincible.
The more he thought about her, the more he hated her. She was a witch with her dark hair and evil, blacker-than-night eyes. The words that had spewed forth from her mouth were unacceptable. She was the devil incarnate. A morally corrupt whore with a black heart.
And then it suddenly came to him like a blinding flash of lightning. SHE DID NOT DESERVE TO LIVE.
The thought struck him like a meteor – a fast-moving meteor that illuminated his mind – told him what he had to do.
Lucky Santangelo had to die. There was no doubt about it.
* * *
Peggy immediately realized that Gino Santangelo did not remember her, and even though he was quite spry for a ninety-something old man, she was surprised he managed to remember anything at all. She felt sorry for Paige who was decades younger than her husband. At least Sidney had died before she had been stuck with nursemaid duties. What a nightmare that would’ve been. Nurse Peggy. Not her calling in life.
Actually she hadn’t expected Gino to remember her. Why would he? According to his reputation he’d had thousands of girls. And such as the circumstances were now, it was better that he didn’t recall their one night of fevered lovemaking. As far as Gino Santangelo was concerned, she was a friend of his wife’s. Paige had kindly invited her to join them for a quiet dinner at François, and she’d been delighted to accept.
Peggy was embarking on an exciting mission; it gave her mundane existence new meaning. She’d dressed for the occasion. A Valentino cocktail dress. Black Louboutins. Tasteful jewellery. And a large Hermès purse where she hoped to stash the evidence she was about to procure. A strand of his hair, his cocktail glass, anything she could get her hands on.
Gino made it easy for her. Fifteen minutes into the dinner he experienced a major sneezing fit and blew his nose into a napkin. Usually Peggy considered men who did that complete social outcasts, but tonight she was thrilled.
However, there was a problem – how to manoeuvre the soiled napkin into her purse before the waiter came over and spirited it away?
Like a true amateur detective the answer came to her. Without even thinking about it she nudged her martini glass so that its contents spilled across the table and onto Gino’s lap. Confusion ensued, during which Peggy managed to stuff the napkin into her purse. Mission accomplished!
Peggy experienced a moment of deep satisfaction, and even deeper excitement. After all these years spent wondering who Armand’s real father was, soon the suspense could be over.
Earlier that evening she’d visited the computer centre at her hotel and Googled Joe Piscarelli. He too was still alive, and had obviously prospered, for he owned a chain of car dealerships and several gentlemen’s clubs. Joe was not as old as Gino Santangelo – nor was he buried in the desert as she’d imagined. Obviously he’d gotten over his criminal tendencies and gone legitimate. He was now a married man with two grown children and two successful businesses.
Peggy had not yet decided how she would approach him and obtain a DNA sample. Right now, Gino was all she could manage.
* * *
The girl’s name was Luscious. She was twenty-two and well jaded for one so young. She’d been around the block countless times, and it showed. Once the prettiest girl in high school in spite of a pronounced over-bite, she was now a strung-out erotic dancer and sometime hooker with a criminal boyfriend, and her own rap sheet for a variety of offences ranging from shoplifting to prostitution and two DUIs. Luscious (formerly Sara Smitton from Oklahoma) couldn’t care less that she had a rap sheet. Her main concern was keeping the attention of her boyfriend, Randy – a former