Page 34 of The Shadow King's Brother

I follow. The usual business agenda, so meticulously planned, feels strangely unimportant today.

Still, Tuvio slides the paperwork across the desk, his wide smile plastered as if someone had sewn it to his face.

“So, Elio, about these acquisitions…” he begins, “We have to decide before they go to our competitors, am I right?” He taps his fingers impatiently on the file.

“Right,” I reply, my eyes narrowing. “But are they actually worth it? It seems a little bit hasty, doesn’t it?” I tap my finger on a section of the paperwork, my finger tracing the line of numbers like a hawk circling its prey, highlighting the figures I disagree with.

Tuvio’s smile falters for a brief second. “Hasty? This is how we do things, Elio. Or do you want to lose out on all the gains?” He laughs again, but the sound doesn’t reach his eyes. He leans forward, “This is a top priority acquisition, my boy. You need to focus.”

“I just don’t think we have the resources for this right now, Tuvio, with all the other things going on,” I say, pulling my hand back and grabbing the file, putting a barrier between us.

He’s acting strange. Too eager. Too familiar.Or am I being paranoid? Seeing enemies around every corner?

Fiona enters the room, her heels tap-tap-tapping on the polished floor. She pours us steaming hot coffee, and the scent of roasted beans wakes me up. I nod a silent thank you, observing her movements. They are precise, almost mechanical. I briefly assess her build and posture, and involuntarily, my thoughts return to the grainy footage from the safe house. Her build… Does it match the figure Vinny had met there? But the thought is ridiculous.

She’s a secretary, damn it. And a woman.Paranoia.I have to stop this. I’m spiraling.

* * *

We sitfor a few more hours, the afternoon light shifting across the room, discussing acquisitions, selling off illegitimate companies, dismantling drug smuggling channels, and trying to bring our jewelry operations into compliance with new regulations. It’s been almost a year since the new rules went into effect, and we’re still nowhere near done. At some point, Tuvio lets out a wide yawn, the sound heavy and prolonged.

“I was up at five this morning. Old man’s habits, you know,” he grumbles, glancing at his watch. “I need to get some rest.”

“I thought our kind was unstoppable,” I say. “Italian blood and all.”

“Unstoppable until after an afternoon nap—” he says and rises from his chair, his movements surprisingly nimble despite his size.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I say, dismissing him with a wave.

As Tuvio leaves, Nica moves swiftly. “Tuvio—” she calls and leaves the office quickly after him. I hear their conversation fade as she moves away from the office door, and my gut tightens.

A few minutes pass before she returns. “What was that about?”

“I asked him about Broad again,” she replies, her tone clipped, barely making eye contact with me.

“And?” I prompt.

“And he says he doesn’t know anything—” Her shoulders stiffen. “But I don’t know if I believe him.”

“Or maybe you’re being paranoid,” I say, the words come out before I can catch them, it’s a knee-jerk reaction I can’t explain even to myself.

Her face hardens instantly, her jaw clenching. “Oh, and you’re not? You were checking out Fiona as if she was some spy.”

Did she notice that?

“I’m just being careful—” I start, trying to reason.

“And I’m not? I’m not being careful?” Nica snaps, her voice rising. She turns away, her back to me, a silhouette of fury, and then leaves before I can say another word.

Where did all that anger come from?A hollow ache settles in my chest. But more importantly, is she right?

It’s time,I think, the words are a hard edge in my mind. Time I find out exactly what the hell this Broad Corporation is.

I glance down at the papers on my desk refocusing my attention.

My fingers fly across the keyboard on my computer, bringing up the communication log I looked at earlier and then my personal secure files. I navigate to the number I saved earlier, I type them onto my phone and hit dial. Maybe, just maybe someone on the other end will answer the phone.

Chapter6

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