Page 330 of Don’t Say Mafia

Jace: : . . .

I smirked.

Me: And you are not to scare her away.

He responded almost immediately.

Jace: So you’re saying I shouldn’t tell her about your extracurricular hobbies?

Before I could threaten to kill him again, my phone buzzed, and I saw that Gage was calling. I glanced down at Eden again and then slipped carefully out of bed before stepping into the hallway and closing the door most of the way behind me.

I answered without greeting him. “What’s wrong?”

“Guess where I spent my day,” Gage said.

I leaned back against the wall, already irritated. “If this is a riddle, I’m hanging up.”

“At the Bureau,” he replied evenly. “In a conference room I don’t usually sit in.”

That got my full attention.

“And?” I asked.

A beat of silence stretched between us.

“That picture the blubbering server took of us?” he continued.

A slow tension pulled through me. “What about it?”

“It landed on my boss’s desk.”

I closed my eyes briefly. Of course it did.

“How?” I asked, my tone flat.

“Anonymous email,” Gage said. “No signature. No traceable account. Just the image attached.”

“And?”

“And a note.”

I rubbed at the bridge of my nose. “Are you going to tell me what it said, or do you need dramatic buildup?”

He exhaled quietly. “It said, ‘Dig.’”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “What did they ask you?”

“They asked why I was eating with someone who owns multiple casinos,” he replied dryly. “I mean, what could they ask, Jagger? It’s not like they know exactly how much we own.”

That was true.

“I told them we’re old acquaintances and that we ran into each other by coincidence.” His tone stayed even. “I said I barely know you. That you’re loud, wealthy, and not particularly interesting.”

I almost smiled. “Ouch.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Do you think they bought it?”