Page 22 of Queen's Ransom

“He’s been good for Chris too,” she said.

On cue, Chris’s voice filled the room. “Holt, copy.”

“Sounds like they’re playing your tune again,” Celia said as she removed the spoon from a snoozing Lily’s mouth. “Go. I’ve got her.”

“I’ll put in my earbuds,” he said. “You want ear plugs too?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got two teens and an Italian mother whose primary profession is gossip. I’m an expert at blocking out background noise.” She tilted her head, lifting the ear angled toward the screens. “And I’ve got tinnitus in this ear from the shop noise. I won’t hear as long as you’ve got yours in.”

Holt clasped her shoulder as he smiled down at his sleeping daughter. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much.”

She smiled up at him. “Been here, done this. I’ve got you.”

As Holt returned to his command center, Celia snuggled farther into the corner of the couch, the snoozing baby in her arms calming her as well. So calm she almost missed the phone when it vibrated in her pocket. Careful not to wake Lily, she withdrew it and peeked at the screen.

All good here, read the text from Helena. Get some rest. Will fill you in tomorrow morning.

Celia was debating what to type back, finger hovering over the digital keypad—was “good luck” appropriate in these situations or was it better not to distract her at all?—when another text pinged. Not from Helena. She flipped back to the Messages screen and her stomach sank at seeing her ex-husband’s name in bold, a new message from Dex waiting.

Ignoring it, Celia opened her text thread with Mia. You guys good down there? she asked.

Reply bubbles appeared, then a text. Yep, Marco’s already snoring.

She laughed. Get some rest, she typed, giving Mia the same advice Helena had given her. Might be up here longer than expected. Lily is teething and fussy.

Aww, you’re the mom-friend.

She rolled her eyes even though Mia couldn’t see her and even though the sentiment filled her with warmth and happiness, same as the baby in her arms. The snark, she texted back.

Mia replied with You’re the best mom and the kiss-face emoji.

But also the love. There was no shortage of it among her family these days, and she sensed it in the Madigans too. It just needed teasing out. Perris were good for teasing, as evidenced by her own daughter.

Kisses to Lily too, Mia added with more kiss-face emojis.

Celia pocketed her phone and let the rapid-fire typing behind her, her daughter’s words, and the warm bundle of joy in her arms temper the need to peek over her shoulder at the Madigan onscreen she’d like to tease. If their lives would ever allow it.

Chapter Nine

Sitting in the center of the curved booth, Helena tapped her toe against the pole beneath the table, her motion in time with the thumping music and pulsing club lights bouncing off Club Sterling’s abundance of chrome and glass. “I’m still surprised they let us back in here.”

Beside her, Hawes sipped his whiskey. “We paid them well for the repairs and upgrades.”

He wasn’t wrong. After they’d put on a show of force here last summer, besting several other of the city’s criminal elements, they’d become Club Sterling’s patron saints. Repairs to the floors and furnishings and upgrades to the security and systems, which was why they were able to get those shots of Lenny and Frank. A small fortune, but worth it given the club’s proximity to MCS. “And it’s neutral ground now,” she added. “Relatively.” Another of the agreements she’d negotiated with allies and rivals.

Hawes lowered his glass. “That why Chris is at the bar?” He cut his eyes his fiancé’s direction, then up at the mezzanine floor above the line of booths. “And Victoria and Connor up there?” Then at the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Bay. “And Avery and Elisabeth outside on the boat?”

“Mr. Hair insisted.” She tapped her nails against the side of her cocktail glass. “The rest are my concern.”

“You don’t trust Remy.”

“Of course I don’t, and neither do you. She’s tight with the Russian mob and is a CI for the fucking ATF.”

“Hey!” Chris grumbled over the comms.

“She cooperated last time,” Hawes said, ignoring the former agent’s protest. “How exactly did the New Year’s Eve negotiations go with her?”

“Fine, until the part after negotiations when I wouldn’t sleep with her.”

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