Page 13 of Breakup Games

I’ve looked through hours and hours of CCTV footage, security cam footage, and video doorbell recordings. And my theory that Enzo is the new executor remains. There’s nothing concrete enough to take legal action—yet. But give me some time and I’ll have him behind bars for sure.

Needing a break, I shut down the computer, pick up my empty coffee mug and stand, stretching out my back. I toss the paper cup in the trash and get my phone from my jacket pocket. The sibling group chat was blowing up, so I put my phone on do not disturb.

My brother, Jacob, and his wife, Josie, are the only ones of the bunch who live in my hometown of Silver Ridge, running an animal hospital and horse rescue. Sam, my oldest brother, and his wife, Chloe, moved to Eastwood last year after Sam got a job as one of the head anesthesiologists at the new hospital in town. He works in the OR with our sister, Rory, and how they haven’t had some sort of big blowup that resulted in Sam sticking her with whatever drugs he has on hand that would make her shut up is beyond me.

They’re all married with kids, settled down and content with their lives. And then there’s me, traveling around the country insearch of bad guys. I’ve been here, based in Chicago, for a few years now and there’s no shortage of crime, that’s for sure.

I reply to the group texts, which are mostly a bunch of pictures of Chloe and Josie on their horses, and grab my bag so I can head to the gym and get a workout in before the day is over. Staying in shape is vital for my job, of course, and working out is the best stress relief out there.

Other than fucking, of course.

It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship. This job doesn’t make it easy, with all the travel and hush-hush missions. What’s the point in forming anything more than a casual hookup situation when I’ll be in another town in a year or so? Besides, I haven’t found anyone that makes mefeel.

My phone vibrates with a text as I’m heading out of my office. Thinking it’s another message in the group chat, I only glance at my phone. But it’s not my sister or sister-in-laws sending more horse pics. It’s Mira, saying her next client canceled at the last minute so she has time to meet up now and go over things before her fake date tonight.

I smile to myself as I reply.This is going to be good.

Chapter

Nine

MIRA

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kat asks, twisting in the saddle to look at me.

“No,” I tell her, half-halting the reins again to try and get Thor to slow down. As a former racehorse, he likes to be in front of any other horse I’m out here with. And Kat’s horse is the laziest thoroughbred you’ll ever meet, so it’s a good challenge for us to try and stay behind them as we walk around the arena. “I’m not sure at all.”

“You can always say no.”

“Yeah,” I agree with a sigh. Unable to keep this to myself, I told Kat everything Mason had talked about last night. “On one hand, I see it as risky. On the other…I’m just having dinner with this guy.”

“Who is an actual mafia member, and not the hot kind like in books.”

“Ugh. I know. But you know how I like being undercover and if this guy is as bad as we think he is, it would be great to help put him behind bars.”

“Not if you end up in witness protection. Or dead!”

“Let’s not get that far ahead. I’m going to go out with him tonight, see what I can find out, then make myself so unappealing he’ll be the one telling me he doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Ohh, you’re going toHow To Lose a Guy in Ten Dayshim?”

“Yeah. It’ll be kinda fun, really.”

“It will be. How unhinged are you going to go?”

“I’m thinking enough to have a fake arrest. Mob guys don’t want to deal with the police, right?”

“Can your FBI agent arrange that?” She pushes Loki into a trot and Thor perks his head up, thinking we’re going to race. I smile and roll my eyes, knowing our walk is faster than Loki’s trot.

“He’s not mine, and probably. I mean, he’s in the FBI.”

“Now, he’s a hottie.”

“I suppose,” I say, not wanting to acknowledge it. Mason Harris doesn’t have much of a social media footprint, but I was able to find him in some tagged photos on his sister’s Instagram. The photos were from three Christmases ago, but Mason hasn’t aged much in that time. Though, I do think his biceps are considerably bigger now…not that it matters. “He’s kinda arrogant.”

“What man isn’t?”

“Hah. Right?” Letting Thor take the lead, I push all thoughts out of my head and focus on exercising my horse. He’s a little fresh today, and my focus is on keeping him calm—and staying on—and I don’t think about anything else until we’re walking back into the barn. It’s the thing I love most about horses: everything else just melts away.

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