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“Nyet.” He’s eyeing the box of pastries, a frown on his face. “These are a gift, and since you were a jerk, the answer is no.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“And neither are you,” I counter, bringing the cup to my lips and taking a hearty sip of the perfect temp brew. “Not sharing.”
“I can always make you go get some.” He’s sipping from his favorite traveling mug. It’s expensive, ridiculous for what it is, but the damn thing keeps his Jamaican special blend the perfect temp for a few hours.
He does not start his day without it.
Coffee is a religion in our family.
“You’re going to be that petty?” Malcolm merely raises a brow, and I huff. “Fine. Grab one and go.”
“Two, and I pay for the lunch you’ll be ordering for Javi.”
“I’m not—”
“Liars never make it into heaven, little cousin.”
“Neither do murderers and pitiful eclair extortionists.”
He shrugs. Not one care is given. “I know what would make his day.”
“What’s that?” It slips before I can stop myself, and his grin widens. I’m starting to get annoyed with him. “Just for your amusement’s sake.”
“Lying is a nasty habit, Mariah.” For a second, he turns serious, watching me through narrowed eyes. “You need to stop living in the past and comparing every man to Lane and his dipshit failures. He wasn’t a real man, just another child hiding behind his mother’s skirt while breaking every plate on the table.”
“It’s not that—”
“I know you. Remember that.”
Nodding, I sigh, because he’s right. I’d already thought to do something nice for Javi. Not today, but maybe Friday before they head out to Nevada. “Where?”
“Paisa on the green.”
“I’m not even sure what that is.”
“For him, a taste of home.”
My plan to set up a lunch delivery for this week became an impossibility as a soft alert came from our FBI informant, causing protocol blink to go into effect. The IT department came onto the executive floor, wiping down every trace of the Frederick file.
The twins lied when Malcolm asked about possible investigations into their business.
“Antonio, I couldn’t care less about the possibilities you’re claiming when nothing you’ve presented says the FDA backs your findings. Are you under watch? Is there any possibility of a probe at your lab?”
The man sweats, a few beads trickle down the side of his head. “N-no.”
“Lying will cost you in the end. I can’t move the amount you want if it’s seized.” From the corner of my eye, I watch Javi stand and walk out. He comes back a minute or two later with two files that Malcolm takes from his hand. I don’t know what’s in those folders, and my brows furrow. “Final chance.”
“Malcolm,” Mildred, the other twin, calls softly. She’s sitting forward, another button on her shirt undone while her finger traces her collarbone. Pathetic and useless. “Why the distrust? We’ve been friends for a year and—”
“Answer the question or leave.”
“No. No investigations.” Though she doesn’t meet his stare now, instead, Mildred looks at her brother through hardened eyes. “Everything is clean and ready to be moved. We have a private account offshore in the Bahamas.”
“And that means nothing to me.” Malcolm pushes the folders toward them, sitting back in his seat while they read through the contents. “I chose the where, how, and when. Not you.” Mildred tries to protest, her brother shaking his head, but my cousin carries on. “If you lie, at any point, I’ll take ownership until my fee is paid. Ten million per infraction. Understood?”
“That’s outrageous!” she yells, standing from her seat. The rough movement causes her chair to tip back and for her brother’s face to become pale. “I’m not giving you—”
