Page 11 of The Shadow King's Brother

It was too easy to lose them, I think to myself. Either they weren’t trying very hard, or it was a warning. Either option is shit.

Nica’s gaze bores into mine like she is trying to figure me out.

“You just looked so…happy,” I say, my eyes fixed on the car floor, avoiding her eyes.

She scoffs. “Happy doesn’t mean I can’t be included,” she says. “You’re being overprotective.”

“Well, I’m sorry for loving you that much,” I say, my defenses rising. I reach up and grab the back of my neck, my muscles tight and tense.

She looks flustered. “Yeah, well,” she says, her voice softening. I love you too, but that’s not how we handle things. Together, remember?” She says, “No secrets.”

“Right,” I say, my gaze finally meeting hers. I see that fire again.

She doesn’t look wholly convinced, her brow furrowing slightly, but she lets it go. Her hand slips into mine, and I squeeze it gently. This is what we have. A connection that is stronger than anything. I can’t give into my own fear and destroy this.

We pull back into the traffic flow, and Nica breaks the silence. “Jackson came by the office this morning while you were at the hospital,” she begins. “He brought a new—clue.”

Another one of Jackson’s goose chases?

“What clue?” I ask, though I already have a feeling.

I know about Jackson’s new obsession, his endless search for answers. Another one of his revelations about who supposedly murdered Carol or where in the world Vinny could be. These clues are a lifeline for him, something that keeps him going, but they are mostly a distraction, a rabbit hole.

She brushes a stray strand of hair from her face. “He uhm—” she pauses. “He brought me a note—from some safe house. I don’t know where he got it from, to be honest. But it had the initials B.C. written below. Do you know anything about what it is?”

B.C.? The letters are unfamiliar they don’t ring any immediate bells.

“No,” I reply. “I’ll need to look into it. But it’s probably just another one of Jackson’s stories. I love the guy, but we can’t keep chasing every random lead he finds.” I try to sound light, brushing it off.

“I know,” she says softly, hesitating. “It’s just that—”

“Just what?” I lean in, my attention fully on her.

She lowers her voice, glancing at me with unease. “I found some expenses on a De Luca account within the last year, which were made out to B.C. Elio, it’s not small numbers—it’s a lot.”

I tilt my head, my brow furrowing. “Okay—so is that all, or is there more?”

The more I know, the better prepared I am. That’s just the way I am. That’s how I operate.

She shakes her head. “No, that was it. But Jackson looked... tense.”

She looks back at me, a silent question in her eyes.

“Doesn’t he always?”

I exhale slowly, the weight of her words sinking in. I’ll have to look into it, though I’m sure it’s nothing, like always.

My thoughts drift to Jackson, my friend, my mentor, now trapped in a spiral of grief and paranoia. We need to help him and pull him back before he loses himself completely. Get him back on track—back with his kids, back on the force, and out of this endless loop of chasing shadows.

I scan the rearview mirror again, this time more deliberately.All clear.I exhale, letting out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

We finally reach the De Luca Jewelry offices, the car gliding into the underground garage beneath the building. The garage is cool, damp, and cavernous.

Marcus parks in our designated spot, and I take a quick glance around. The Mercedes from earlier is gone and there are no other cars around.

As we step out of the sedan, I instinctively wrap my arm around Nica’s waist, pulling her in close. My hand finds her cheek, my thumb brushing lightly against her skin before I lean in to press a kiss on top of her hair. She tilts her head up, eyes sparkling with that damn beautiful smile, her lips curving just so.

“What was that for?” she asks, smirking.

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