Page 23 of Duke of Ruin

“Of course, uncle,” I say. At least now I know what he expects me to do. I’m supposed to play the part of the family thug. This is something of a rite of passage with all the younger family members—a test of loyalty, so to speak. If I go down there and empathize with Reese, then it’ll look like I’m disloyal, but if I come back with information, or at least a very terrified cousin, it will prove I’m trustworthy. Too bad I don’t really care about what they think of me. Still, I have to play the part. If they decide they can’t trust me they’ll make my life hell, and they’ll probably do that by going after Noah.

I grind my teeth. I wish I could find out who saw us the other night. I tried to convince my uncle and my father that it was a bogus story, that I would never jeopardize our business by bringing along someone who’s not a member of the family, but I doubt they completely believe me. Whoever the snitch was, they had some very specific andverygraphic details.

“I’ll report back tonight,” I say as I stand up from the overstuffed chair where I’ve been sitting for the last half hour.

I get in my car and drive into downtown Montcove, where Reese runs a computer repair shop. It’s also the front where we sell the rare-earth metals that we bring in from Russia—one of three, anyway. Gianni sent his own sons to the other two, but this one is where the money seems to go missing.

I park in the downtown garage and walk three blocks over to the store. I square my shoulders as I push through the doors. My height already makes me intimidating; I just have to carry myself well.

“Eli,” Reese calls from behind the counter, where he’s disassembling a laptop. “What brings you in today?”

“Just checking in,” I say, glancing around the store. He’s keeping up appearances well. The store is clean and organized.

“Gianni sent you, huh?” Reese asks, and I notice him palming a small screwdriver. I put my hand in my pocket so my jacket moves just enough to show the grip of my .45, and he puts the screwdriver in a drawer behind him. I lift my eyebrows to let him know he’s not as smooth as he thinks he is. “Let’s talk in the office, yeah?” He nods toward the back.

“Sure,” I say, and step behind the counter.

“Svetlana, watch the front,” Reese calls over his shoulder, and I notice a young woman with dark hair lift her eyes toward us before nodding.

I follow Reese into the office and he takes a seat in the chair, the only seat in the room, and then he swings around and looks at me. His posture is relaxed, loose, but I can see right through him.

“How’s business?” I ask. The question is innocuous, but the underlying threat is obvious.

“I know how this goes,” Reese says. I lift my brows and wait. “You’re supposed to come down here and accuse me of skimming, and I’m supposed to fight you about it, and then you rough me up a bit and we all go back to doing what we were doing anyway.”

I rest my hip on the edge of the desk and look down at him. I was really hoping Uncle Gianni was just being paranoid, but it’s looking like Reese may actually have something to hide.

He presses his lips together before continuing. “Can’t we just skip all that and pretend we fought? I can even throw some stuff around to make it look good.” He lifts his eyebrows at me.

“That would never work,” I say, keeping my voice cool. I don’t actually care if he’s skimming cash. I don’t care aboutanyof this, but if he’s being this obvious and my father finds out, I’ll fail this stupid test. “He knows I’m not the ‘throw shit around’ type.”

“Yeah?” Reese asks, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he leans back in the chair. “I’ve heard rumors about whattypeyou are.” His mouth curls into a smirk.

“Is that so?” I lift an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, and makes a crude gesture with his tongue in his cheek.

My hand shoots across the desk and grabs Reese by the throat. Maybe this trip will pay off after all, especially if Reese is the fucking snitch.

He scrabbles at my hand as I close off his windpipe, but my reach is almost a foot longer than his and he can’t shake me off. His face starts turning purple as I keep my grip and he kicks and swings his arms wildly. “I’m sorry,” he croaks on his last bit of air. “No disrespect, man.”

I release him and he falls to the floor, gasping. “Exactly whattypeam I, again?” I ask as I step around the desk and pull the .45 from my belt.

“You’re fucking royalty, man. You’re what we all aspire to be,” he says between gasps. Sniveling asshole.

I lean over the desk and put my face just inches from his. “I’m also the type to watch you bleed out on this floor without a second thought,” I snarl. “You better figure out where that money is going, or that’s exactly what’s going to happen.” As I stand back up, I notice the corner of a business card sticking out from underneath the keyboard on the desk. I pick it up and look at it.

“The fuck is this?” I say, shoving it in his face. It’s a card for a detective from the Montcove PD.

“Nothing, man,” Reese says as he tries to snatch the card from my hand. I pull it back and take a closer look.

“Detective Leonard Rossi,” I read aloud. “I’m sure Uncle Gianni will be interested in this.” I shove the card in my pocket and turn my back on Reese as I walk back out the door.

“Well, I guess you passed your fucking test,” Reese gasps behind me. “Go back and tell them how proud they should be of you.”

I don’t even bother turning around. The words sting, but I can’t let them bother me right now. At least Noah will be safe for the time being, especially if I tell my uncle that Reese is acting shady as hellandseems to be in contact with a damn cop. I feel a momentary twinge of guilt. Reese is done for. As soon as my uncle and father get this information they’ll handle it, and Reese will disappear like so many others before him, but at least the attention will be taken off me and Noah for the time being.

I head back to the Carbone estate and go straight to my uncle’s office. I tell him what I learned, and as expected, he tells me he’ll handle it from here. That pang of guilt hits me again. I actually liked Reese, and I don’t know what he was thinking or why he made those decisions, but he made his own bed. I shake my head at my own hypocrisy. The same could be said about me. My thoughts drift back to Noah. I should really keep my distance, at least for a while, but I’m struggling. I tried to call him on the way back to the estate, but it went straight to voicemail. I try not to let that bother me, but it does. All I can focus on is getting out of here and trying to call him again. If I can’t reach him, then I’ll go to his apartment tonight.

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