Page 16 of Single Mom's Daddies
Roman mutters something low under his breath. “They’re getting bolder.”
“He knows who we are,” I say. “Knows what we’re moving. He’s not here on a fishing expedition.”
Victor exhales slowly. “He already visited Renner.”
That lands with a heavy silence.
“And?” I ask.
“I shut it down,” Victor says. “For now. Renner knows how to handle it. If he doesn’t have a stroke while he’s handling it. Nervous son of a bitch.”
“He’s going to come back.”
“Of course he is,” Roman says. “That’s why we lie low.”
I set my drink down harder than I mean to. “No offense, brother, but lying low is how we end up two steps behind. I could’ve taken him out today.”
“We don’t touch feds,” Victor says quietly.
Roman cuts in before I can respond. “Not unless we want every alphabet agency breathing down our necks.”
I hate when they’re right. But it doesn’t make it easier to swallow. Ruger shouldn’t be breathing at all.
Roman shifts gears. “It’s not just the feds we have to worry about.”
Victor raises an eyebrow. “There’s more?”
“The kids.”
That earns a groan from both of us. “I thought you handled that?”
Roman rubs his temple like this has been simmering longer than he’s admitted. “Mila is too curious. She’s been asking Olenna about her collection. The bone shelf.”
Victor winces. “Of course she has.”
“And Alex,” Roman continues, “follows her like a duckling. If she asked him to help bury a body, he’d grab the shovel.”
I snort. “Loyalty. We raised them right.”
“We raised them reckless.”
Victor takes a sip from his glass. “You talk to Olenna?”
“She won’t move the souvenirs.”
“Of course not,” Victor mutters.
“She says she spent too long hiding who she is. She’s not going back to pretending.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“She’s earned that,” I say.
Roman nods. “She has. But the kids haven’t earned that kind of truth.”
Victor glances at him. “So what’s the solution?”
Roman looks between us. “We need a nanny.”
