Page 7 of A Monstrous Claim

Elio climbs in on the other side.

“Our apologies,” Azarius says with an edge to his voice. “That took way longer than we thought it would.”

“If you would have shut the hell up and stopped trying to kiss Pearson’s ass, we would have been in and out,” Elio growls.

“You weren’t complaining when they kept slinging free drinks at you.”

I start the car while they snap back and forth at each other and head toward the road, relieved to finally do something aside from sit still.

“Where to now?” I ask, hoping the distraction will end the argument.

It does—at least momentarily.

“The Château.”

Another bar. Go figure.

At least I’ve heard of this one.

I plug the name into the GPS before turning onto the road, and Club 47 shrinks into the distance behind us as we head back toward downtown. The sun has started to set, turning the sky into a fiery oil painting and drenching the buildings around us in golden light.

“How did your meeting go?” I ask. Considering I waited two hours for them, I’m invested. I need to at least know if my patience was worth it.

Not to my surprise, it’s Azarius that answers. “Not as well as we’d hoped, but better than it could have gone.”

I purse my lips. It isn’t the answer I wanted, and their constant vagueness has me wondering if they’re hiding something sinister. Are they members of the cartel? Hitmen? Do they just not want to tell some random girl their business?

My mind races with possibilities, and my eyes flick to my phone screen. We’re seventeen minutes away from our destination. That’s seventeen minutes I have to find out anything I can about them. After I drop them off, I might not ever see them again.

“What’s the worst thing that could have happened?”

Azarius chuckles. “If we came out of there in body bags.”

“Ha. That’s a good one.” I check Elio in the rearview mirror and see him staring daggers at his companion while trying to keep his voice level. “Isn’t my idiot partner hilarious? The worst thing that could have happened is that we lost the deal and had to deliver the bad news to our boss.”

“Oh, right.” Azarius drops his voice to a whisper, but I can still hear him. “That’swhen the body bags come in.”

My eyes are on the road, but I hear what sounds like Elio punching Azarius. Someone—my guess is Azarius—sucks in a sharp breath, and they both fall quiet again.

“Is this one of thoseif you tell me, you’ll have to kill methings?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

They answer at the same time.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Elio sighs forcefully. “This is one of thoseif we tell you, they’ll killusthings. So the less you know, the better it is for everyone.”

I haven’t met anyone personally involved with the Mafia, but I’ve seen enough movies to know that this definitely sounds like some cartel shit, and I don’t want any part of it.

“Fair.” Getting someone killed isn’t something I’m particularly interested in, but there has to be some small nugget of information they can tell me that will satisfy my curiosity without causing repercussions for them.

I press on. “You can’t tell me where you’re from, and you won’t tell me what kind of business you run. Are Azarius and Elio even your real names?”

“Yes,” Azarius says. “And wearein the real estate business—just not the kind you’re familiar with.”

I cock my eyebrow. “There’s more than one kind?”

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