Page 34 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

“He had such big dreams when we were younger,” she says, a wistful smile touching her lips. “He wanted to open his own restaurant and be this famous chef, but he never had a real plan, and he’s never been one for hard work. He always thought luck would be enough.”

I nod, encouraging her to go on.

“That’s what led him to gambling in the first place. He thought he could make enough money to start his business. Or course, it spiraled out of control so quickly.” She takes a shaky breath. “I became the responsible one. I had to step in when Jay couldn’tpull himself together, hide the worst of it from our parents, until it became impossible to hide after he was arrested for robbing a convenience store to get money to gamble a few years ago. That was his first time in rehab, but not his last.” She shakes her head, looking somewhere between sad and disgusted by his failings.

“You’ve been handling this alone for a long time,” I say softly. No wonder she’s disappointed at his constant failure to reform when it so deeply affects her life.

Claire nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I had to. Every addict’s family goes through something like this, I guess, but I wanted to shield our parents as much as possible.”

I set my glass down and take a step closer to her. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore, Claire.”

She looks up at me with a touch of hope, but mostly wariness. “What do you mean?”

“I’m here,” I say simply. “Let me help you.”

She shakes her head, a rueful smile on her lips. “I don’t know how to do that, Valerian. I’ve been on my own for so long...”

I reach out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She shivers at my touch but doesn’t pull away. “Start small,” I murmur. “Let me come with you to see Jay.”

For a moment, I think she might refuse. Then, slowly, she nods. “Okay,” she whispers.

I smile, feeling warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the wine. “Good. We’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.”

Claire takes a deep breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Thank you, Valerian.”

I lift my glass in a small toast. “Anything for you.” My tone is light, masking the sincerity behind the sentiment.

The security guardat the prison barely glances at my credentials before waving us through. I place my hand on Claire’s lower back, guiding her down the sterile hallway. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows, emphasizing the dark circles under her eyes.

“Are you ready for this?” I ask quietly.

Claire takes a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

We’re led to a private conference room, which is a perk of my connections. We bypass the usual communication through a glass window. Jay is already seated, his hands cuffed to the table. The conference room is all about Claire’s comfort, not his, and I don’t push for the guard to unlock him. His orange jumpsuit hangs loosely on his frame, and stubble darkens his jaw. His eyes widen when he sees us.

“Claire! I didn’t think you’d actually come.” His gaze flicks to me. “And...you brought company.”

I remain standing as Claire takes a seat across from her brother. “Hello, Jay. You’re looking well.”

He snorts. “Yeah, prison’s been great for my complexion. What are you doing here, Rostova?”

“I have business with you as well,” I say smoothly. “First, I believe you and your sister have some catching up to do.”

Jay shifts uncomfortably. “Claire, I’m sorry about all this. I never meant for things to get so out of hand.”

Claire’s jaw tightens. “Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” he protests. “Derek was the one who?—”

“Derek?” Claire interrupts. “Who’s Derek?”

Jay pales. “The guy I was working with. He’s the one who got us into this mess. If it wasn’t for him—” He cuts himself off.

Claire leans forward. “Jay, why did you want to see me if you’re just going to make excuses? You helped a woman escape, and a cop got shot. Do you understand how serious this is?”

Jay’s shoulders slump. “I know. I just... I need your advice, Claire. They’re offering me a plea deal. If I testify against Derek, they’ll reduce my sentence, but I’m not a rat. How can I do that to a friend?”

Her expression softens slightly. “You need to take the deal. What Derek did was terrible, and that officer could have died. You both deserve consequences, but you don’t deserve as much time. It would be easier on Mom and Dad if you take the plea.”

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