Page 109 of Vicious Heir

Luca shows me a particular house. It’s in a neighborhood in Wynnewood. On street view, it looks like a bunch of stone-facade colonials. A quiet place, lots of space, lots of green. There’s a porch with big windows and a gable with ivy growing up the side.

“Doesn’t look like much,” I comment.

“This house is probably worth over a million.” He shakes his head, disgusted. “The fucking market’s a racket.”

“You think Demir’s there?”

“Based on property records, that place is owned by a corporation called Meadows Investments. Vittorio and I followed the leads, and I’m reasonably sure Meadows Investments is a shell company owned by Gray Wolf.”

“Reasonably sure isn’t sure enough. We need absolute certainty.”

“Then you’re in luck because Richard’s scheduled to be out there tonight.”

“He’s making evening house calls?”

“More like midnight house calls.” Luca grins at me and snaps his laptop shut. “Told you, it’s fuckinghim.”

I lean back, blood-covered wheels in my brain spinning along.

It’slike a whole different world. These suburbs are old and affluent. They’re totally different from the close-packed South Philly streets I call my home. This place is fucking quiet. I hear goddamn crickets chirping. There are stars in the damn sky.

I hate it.

“He’s been in there an hour,” Luca says, glowering through the windshield. “What the fuck are they talking about?”

“Probably discussing the millions of dollars’ worth of art we’ve destroyed.”

“Well, he needs to hurry up.”

“What are you so impatient about?”

Luca smirks slightly and glances at his phone. “I’ve got a girl waiting back at my place.”

My eyebrows raise. “A woman lets you touch her?”

“You’d be surprised how often that happens.”

“I’d rather not know.”

“But if this fucker doesn’t hurry up, she’ll be asleep when I get back.” He sighs, shaking his head. “She’s no good when you wake her up, either.”

“Sounds like a problem you should keep to yourself.”

“Probably.”

I try not to smile. Ever since I made Luca one of my Capos, he’s been opening up more and more. When I first took him on, he was just one of my cousins, Carmie’s older brother, strong and clever, but still untested. Now, though, he’s coming into his own. I’m almost proud of him.

After another ten minutes of waiting, Richard finally appears. He seems haggard and paranoid, looking around like he might spot a tail as he climbs into his BMW. The lights turn on, and he sits in the driveway for a minute before finally pulling out.

I start the truck’s engine but leave the lights off.

Luca says nothing. He’s completely locked in. I drive forward, following Richard, slowly inching closer and closer as we roll through a gorgeously manicured neighborhood. We’re moving downhill—the rich fucks literally live above everyone else like they’re lords or something—and up ahead is an intersection, totally black, no streetlights around. One corner is a big lawn; another is dense shrubbery.

“Here,” I say quietly.

Luca grabs onto the handle above the door.

The engine guns. I turn on my headlights and speed forward. If Richard knows what’s coming, he doesn’t have time to react. He tries to turn left, the exact wrong thing to do.

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