I blinked. “Of course. Graham BracktonisViseon. Well, was. He died recently, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, he did.” He frowned then smacked a kiss to my cheek. “Jesus, Kitty. You just opened up my eyes to something?—”
“I did?” I prodded when he fell silent.
“Yeah. When your line of work’s like mine, you don’t think about the legit optics. Didn’t Viseon just come out as a major player in the AI race?”
I shrugged. “I hate AI so I don’t know. I just know that my phone and yours was made by Viseon and their tech’s everywhere.”
“Fair point.” His fingers got busy tapping. “There—look.”
He showed me his screen.
Viseon breaks records with a single-day jump in stock prices
I scanned the content of the news article, grimaced at the BS about Brackton becoming the richest man in the world for a handful of minutes, and asked, “What about him? It’s not like he got to enjoy it for long.”
“He didn’t,” Stan agreed. “So, his son is a real pain in our asses. Absolute-waste-of-oxygen junkie. Jackie Van der Mils is married to the prick. We’ve recently learned that Anastasia Brackton has links to the Bratva?—”
“Links? Business?”
“No. She’s related to the Krestniy Otets, which means?—”
“She’s related to Sofia.Are you going to ask her about Anastasia?”
“I will, yeah.” He grabbed my hand. “If a guy like Damien Headley was interested enough in Anastasia Brackton and Jackie Van der Mils’s patient files to get Beatriz to steal them, then there’s something to hide.”
My lips firmed as realization struck. “Stan.”
“What is it?”
“I met Currau because this woman came into the ER. Drug overdose. But… she left this insanely expensive Birkin behind.” I waggled my purse. “Like this one. I took it up to her private ward—it’s why I was on Currau’s floor. It’s literally how we met.
“I only remember any of this because my friend made me read a dumb conspiracy theory about her on a blog… That woman was Anastasia Brackton.”
His eyes bugged. “Small world.”
“And getting smaller,” I croaked.
I didn’t believe in coincidences.
I didn’t believe in coincidences.
I didn’t believe in coincidences.
So, why were there so many here?!
“She overdosed. You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Crazier still, not long after, you came in helicoptering your penis around to the envy of most of the men on staff.”
Taking note of the slight pink emblazoning his cheeks, I hid a smile as he asked, “Do you remember her?”
“Yeah. Mostly because she didn’t really care about her however-many-thousand-dollar purse. I remember she…” My shoulders sagged. “It wasn’t her first cry for help.”
He released a hiss. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
