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“Like I said, smart girl. Her father loved her. I mean, not her real father, but if you said that shit around him, he would’ve kicked your fucking ass, so nobody talked about it. But we all knew.”
Adopted. Interesting. I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, but it was worth making note of it. “What else?”
“Luciano kept her close. He was grooming her, I guess. We thought it was weird, you know, not even your own blood, and a fucking girl, but treating her like she was going to be Don one day. Like that’d ever fucking happen.”
“Did you like her?”
“All the boys did. I mean, the girl’s good looking, right? But she was also personable. What the fuck is this about?”
“Nothing,” I say, glancing back toward the garage. Niall and Seamus look like they’re finishing up out there. “Just want to get to know her more, that’s all.”
“I mean, I got stories about the girl.” He sounds scared now. “She was mouthy. Hard to deal with. But you know?—”
I stand and shoot him in the head. His skull and brain matter mist against the wall behind him.
Nobody in the other room flinches. They knew what was coming. Hell, I think Sal knew too.
I’m not sure why I asked him about Valentina. The girl’s worming herself deep into my head. It must be the sorry state of her apartment getting to me—otherwise, I never would give a crap about her.
I head back out into the main room. Niall drags a man in zip-ties over. He’s older, in his early fifties, with gray hair and hard eyes. “This is Rich. Say hello to Ronan Hayes.”
“Hello,” Rich says.
“He runs the shop floor, like a sort of manager, right, Rich?” Niall nudges him, and Rich nods. “Rich likes living. He has a family. Right, Rich?”
“Two girls,” he grunts.
I put my gun away. “I assume you want to keep breathing, right, Rich? You want to see those girls grow up and give you grandkids?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then you work for me now, and so does everyone else here. You’re going to convince them. The work keeps going, the money keeps flowing, and everyone gets a little bonus too. How’s that sound, Rich?”
He glances toward the office. Sal’s corpse is visible behind the glass. “Sounds fine,” he says.
“Wonderful. Niall, get rid of the cuffs. Let’s start making sure our new employees understand the situation, shall we?”
As Rich talks his business associates into getting on board with the change in management, I think about my ulterior motives. I think about my cousin problem, about factions in factions, and about Valentina back in her apartment, right on the cusp of starvation. I think of neat plans and ciphers and smart girls, and I wonder if maybe we can’t solve a whole lot of problems, if only we start working together.
Chapter 7
Valentina
Idon’t sleep that night. I keep waiting for Ronan’s message letting me know that everything went well, but my phone’s frustratingly silent. Midnight comes and goes, and I know they must’ve made their move, but I get nothing, and I know better than to reach out to him. Not when we agreed he’d text.
The sun starts to rise. I take a shower, just to give myself something to do, and I’m drying my hair when I hear someone banging around in the kitchen. I reach under my sink and find the knife I keep there before stepping out into the hallway, but this time I’m not surprised when I find Ronan.
He’s got coffee and bagels again. And also champagne.
“It’s a celebration, baby,” he says, popping the cork.
I stare at him, gripping the knife. “You said you’d text.”
“Texting is for bored housewives. I’m here in the flesh instead.” He pours two glasses. “Let’s toast.”
I glare at the alcohol. The last thing I want to do is drink, but I really, really want to hear how the job went down, so I suck it up, put the knife down, and raise the glass.
“To asking questions first and stabbing later,” I say.
