Page 24 of Guarding her Gangster Girl

Nik crosses her arms. “And what might that be?”

I meet her gaze, all pretense gone. “Finding Terry’s killer.”

CHAPTER 12

Nik

I don’t knowwhat I was expecting from Brie Colombo, but it sure wasn’tthat. “What are you talking about? Isn’t your Family taking care of the investigation?”

“I’ve realized I can’t trust anyone in the Family. And Frank—bless him—is useless, either by nature or by design. You’re the only person in this city who knows the real me these days, except Holden, and he’s dealing with his own grief. So you’re it, Nik. You need to help me find justice for Terry.”

I tilt my head, studying her. There’s so much more to this woman than meets the eye. “Justice? Or vengeance?”

A hard edge creeps into her voice. “They’re one and the same. Before I have to stand aside for the successor, I want to do right by Terry and find his killer. And I know you can help, because…well, because you did the same for your father.”

I ignore that, though it does explain why she kept bringing it up. “Frank won’t like me sniffing around and asking questions.”

Brie scoffs. “Frank is more interested in keeping the Family stable. He’d rather sweep this under the rug than risk upsettingthe balance of power, just like he’d rather I sign that agreement with the Consortium so we don’t rock the boat.” She takes a step closer, her perfume—expensive and intoxicating, just like her—filling my senses. “And it won’t beyouasking the questions. You’ll just be there as backup. And here’s the sweetener, Nik. If you’ll help me, I’ll sign the original agreement with the Consortium, inflated prices and all. I’ll even tell Eva it’s thanks toyouthat I’m signing.”

The offer is tempting. Eva was pretty pissed off with me back in the meeting room, even as I tried to explain I was just playing along with Brie Colombo, making her trust me. But Eva would be delighted if I got Brie to sign that deal, and it could mean big things for me. But I can’t let Brie know that, so I force a dismissive tone. “I don’t need some Mob widow putting in a word for me. I’ll earn my place on my own.”

To my shock, Brie reaches out and takes my hands in hers. “Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Because I will. Ineedyou, Nik. I need your help. There’s no one else I can ask. And if there’s one thing I know about the Consortium, it’s that they like to stay neutral. And you know what? You can tell your boss all about this if you like, because I know she’ll leave it up to the Colombo Family to sort it out.”

The image of her on her knees before me, those perfectly painted lips parting as she leans forward, flashes through my mind before I can stop it. I push it away, focusing on the task at hand. “WhataboutHolden? Isn’t he your bestie or something?”

“Holden wouldn’t be able to ask the kind of questions we can without raising suspicion. You’re part of the Consortium, and I’m Terry’s widow. We have both access and excuses that he doesn’t.”

I weigh my options. On one hand, getting involved in this Colombo Family business could be dangerous for the Consortium—and for me.

Because Brie is right. Eva’s number one rule for the Consortium is to stay neutral. No interference, no personal relationships with clients. She likes information, but only as it pertains to her own business affairs.

And if Brie does sign the agreement, that would impress Eva enough to make her forget everything else. That original deal is a fucking goldmine.

And if I’m being honest, there’s a part of me that’s intrigued by the mystery of who killed this powerful Don in his own casino…

And, okay, I’m also intrigued by Brie.

“Fine,” I say. “Where do we start?”

Relief floods Brie’s face, quickly replaced by determination. “We’ll start with Phil Reynolds. At the funeral, he said he had something he wanted to talk to me about. I don’t know if it has something to do with Terry’s death, but maybe…”

“We’d better get to him before a hitman does, in that case. But after that, you need to tell me everything you know about your husband’s murder.”

We spot Phil Reynolds near the craps tables on the main floor, his tall frame and neatly-styled dark hair standing out among the crowd. He’s talking to a pit boss, but his eyes are constantlymoving, taking in every detail of his domain. As we approach, he notices us and excuses himself from the conversation.

“Mrs. Colombo,” he greets Brie with a nod, then turns to me. “Ms. Kusek. What can I do for you?”

“It’s what I can do for you, Phil. You said you wanted to talk to me. Is now a good time?”

Reynolds’ expression doesn’t change, but I catch the slight tightening of his jaw. “I wanted to speak inclosest confidenceto you, Mrs. Colombo. Alone,” he adds, as though we didn’t get it.

“You may consider me alone. Ms. Kusek here has been sworn to secrecy.”

Reynolds looks skeptical, but I’m curious to note that he gives in to Brie’s insistence. “Of course,” he says. “My office?”

We follow him through the labyrinth of gaming tables and slot machines, the noise gradually fading as we enter the back corridors of the casino. Phil’s office is a stark contrast to the casino floor, made up of sleek lines and muted colors. As soon as the door closes behind us, he moves to the windows, pulling the internal blinds shut.

I position myself near the door, my back to the wall, as Phil walks to his desk and switches on a small radio. The soft strains of jazz fill the room, providing a cover for our conversation.

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