Page 29 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

“They’re scaring my customers.”

“Better scared than dead.”I pause, then add:“I’ll tell them to be more discreet.”

I set down the phone, turning back to the papers that demand my attention, but the numbers still refuse to make sense, and my hand keeps straying toward the phone, ready to check on her again.

“Everything okay?”

“Where are you now?”

“Let me know when you’re heading back.”

By the time evening rolls around, I’ve sent her no less than a dozen messages. The last one comes back with a curt reply:

“I’m fine. On my way back now.”

I lean back in my chair. Perhaps I’ve been a bit overzealous in my concern, but the stakes are too high to take chances.

The elevator dings, announcing her return. I rise from my desk, straightening my suit jacket as I make my way to the penthouse’s main living area. The doors slide open, and there she stands, a vision of irritation wrapped in a light blue sweater and jeans.

“Welcome back,” I say, keeping my tone neutral.

Claire’s eyes narrow slightly as she steps into the room. “Thanks.” She hefts a large paper bag in her arms. “I brought dinner.”

The aroma of Thai food wafts through the air, making my stomach growl. It’s then I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast, too consumed with work and worry to notice.

“That’s thoughtful of you,” I say, genuinely surprised by the gesture.

Claire shrugs, moving past me to set the bag on the coffee table. “I figured your staff might be hungry too. There’s enough for everyone.”

She begins unpacking containers of pad thai, green curry, and spring rolls. The domesticity of the scene strikes me, so at odds with the danger lurking just beyond these walls.

“Shall we eat in the entertainment room?” I suggest, gesturing toward the adjacent space. “We could put on a movie.”

Claire nods, gathering up the food. “Sure. As long as it’s not a mob flick. I’ve had enough real-life crime drama lately.”

I chuckle despite myself, following her into the room. “How about ‘Die Hard 2?’”

“Perfect,” Claire says dryly, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips.

We settle onto the plush leather couch as the movie’s opening credits roll across the massive screen. For a while, we eat in companionable silence, the only sounds the clinking of chopsticks and Bruce Willis’s wisecracks.

It’s during a lull in the action that Claire finally speaks up. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

I turn to face her, my expression carefully neutral. “What do you mean?”

Claire sets down her container of pad thai, fixing me with a pointed stare. “The constant check-ins? The extra security I noticed tailing me today? Something’s changed, Valerian. I want to know what it is.”

I sigh, setting aside my own food. There’s no point in trying to deflect. She’s too perceptive for that. “You’re right. There have been developments regarding your brother’s situation.”

She stiffens. “What kind of developments?”

I let out a harsh breath. “We’ve discovered that Jay wasn’t just gambling at a Petrov-owned establishment. He was being groomed as an asset for their organization. They must have lured him back after his brief stint with avoiding gambling while he worked at the casino—one of Petrov’s legitimate holdings, by the way.

“They would have been watching him the entire time. Maybe someone applied pressure that sent him to the gambling den while trying to get him back into gambling with the casino and running up his tab. They couldn’t have known he’d go to the illegal den, or the cops would pick that night to raid it.”

The color drains from Claire’s face. “What? That’s... that’s impossible. Jay wouldn’t?—”

“It wasn’t entirely voluntary,” I interject gently. “The Petrovs are masters at manipulation. They likely started small, offering him wins, and making him feel indebted. Before he knew it, he was in too deep to back out. Maybe they hadn’t even made the offer yet, but you can bet it was coming, no pun intended. This is one of the ways our world operates.”

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