I prefer to conduct my business elsewhere, but I have no choice tonight. It’s payday from our last collection run, and I have to be here to oversee my men.
The dim overhead lights flicker, casting a faint glow over the tables where the bags sit. The four men standing in front of me look like they’d rather be anywhere else. Probably with strippers at the club. Work first, fucking later.
My boots echo across the concrete as I approach the center of the floor. “Are we missing something?” I ask, voice low and controlled. I’m known as being a loose cannon, so whenever I’m the opposite, people take notice.
Vin nods once, flipping open the metal case on the folding table beside him.
Cash. Which is not surprising. There are stacks of it, but right away, I know something is off. There’s a lot less than there should be.
“Light,” Vin responds, his jaw grinding. “By almost fifty grand.”
“Fifty?” I arch a brow, slow and mocking. “What, did we forget to collect from half the city? Or did someone suddenly develop a gambling habit and a death wish?”
“Every venue reported,” Deeks says from across the room, arms crossed. “Bars, lounges, private rooms. Every single one of our books came back clean. Which means . . .”
“Which means someone’s skimming,” I finish for him, tapping two fingers against the edge of the table. My rings catch the light, sharp as warnings.
Rafe leans against a rusted pillar, picking dirt from under his nails, and scoffs. “Always the same story. Someone gets greedy, thinks we won’t notice.”
“News flash,” Vin adds, sarcasm thick, “we notice.”
“Barely.” I drag a hand down my jaw. “They’ve been shaving off the top for a while. Quiet. Careful. Now they’re getting cocky.”
Deeks grunts his approval. “I say we cut off a few fingers. Start a rumor. Fear travels faster than our money does.”
I glance at him, unimpressed. “Cute. Normally, I’m all for chopping limbs, but I’d rather get names before we start a trim job.”
“Shame.” Rafe (aka Raffaello) smirks. I like him. Besides Matteo, he’s the only one in my uncle’s organization I’d consider a friend. He reminds me a lot of myself. We both have a taste for killing.
“I just sharpened the bone saw.”
“And I promise, once we find out who’s responsible, I’ll let you take a turn . . . after me.” I let my lip lift into a mischievous grin. “But first, bring me whoever was in charge of picking up the money this week. Let’s ask him why he thinks math is optional.”
Rafe straightens. “You got it.”
The men scatter, and then I’m finally met with silence.
I roll my shoulders, trying to shake it off. Doesn’t work. My pulse is already shifting. Beating faster. Uneven.
I reach for my phone out of habit.
No missed calls.
Just one notification.
A flagged alert. From a contact I haven’t heard from in over a year.
No message. No subject. Just a photo.
I tap it open, and the moment I do, the world tilts on its axis.
Victoria.
She’s older, yet still stunning. It’s almost painful how beautiful she is.
The only problem with this picture is that she’s not alone.
There’s a man next to her, hand resting on the small of her back like he has the right.
