Page 39 of Stabby Little

Michael's waiting at his desk when I enter his office. "Shut the door, Cadbury."

"Yes, sir."

Cadbury obeys his boss's command. Michael waits until he's no longer here before he turns to me.

"I have a full schedule today." He threads his fingers together. "I need to hear everything you know about Xavier's murder. Anton's arriving to discuss Seth's death in twenty minutes."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Michael's brother Seth perished in a warehouse accident a short while ago. He was interrogating a spy who'd infiltrated Michael's organization when a rusty water pipe exploded on his head. He died instantly, his skull cracking as blood seeped onto the floor.

At least that's what Michael told me. He never provided evidence of Seth's death. He didn't need to—it's his prerogative to neglect to fill his hitmen in on his brother's passing. But I didn't fail to notice the lack of evidence. I also didn't fail to notice his discomfort whenever he spoke about his brother. If I were a betting man, I'd think I wasn't obtaining the full story.

"Thank you." Michael's expression sours. "Seth was a great brother. He wasn't quick enough on the uptake, but he was there when you needed him."

"Were you two close?"

"Yes." Michael uncaps his Pelikan pen. "He was my older brother by three years. He was my mentor growing up and he taught me how to fire my first gun. It wasn't my father, that nasty son of a bitch.Hetried to pass the duties off to his favorite footsoldier to get out of instructing me. Learning to fire a weapon is the most important moment in a young man's life and my father tried to hire it out. Thank fuck Seth picked up the slack."

Michael motions to the leather chair in front of him. "Sit.”

I recline in the seat. “Seth sounds like a great man."

"My father wasn't half the man he was." Michael drives the tip of his pen into a ream of paper. "It's a fucking shame that water pipe fell on Seth's head. He leaves two young children behind that won't have a father."

"You could pick up the slack, sir." I pray I don't speak out of place. "You looked up to him. His children might appreciate it."

"I could slit your fucking throat for saying that." Michael's eyes darken.

"I apologize." I show Michael the underside of my palms. "I didn't mean any offense by it. I swear."

"You're not wrong." Michael takes a sip of the burgundy drink in his glass. "I could pay it forward. Show Seth's children the affection he showed me growing up."

"Will they be at Tiffy's wedding?"

Michael nods. "My entire extended family will be there. My grandfather's flying in from northern Italy to walk my niece down the aisle. My grandmother will bring ravioli and other Italian classics for the after-ceremony. My aunts and uncles have been waiting for this moment ever since my niece turned sixteen."

I grit my teeth. "Sixteen's young to get married. Is she older now?"

Michael sets his glass down. "Italy is different. My aunt met my uncle when she was only fifteen and they've been happily married for many years. Tiffy's nineteen, but Zaire would've supported her if she'd met her husband sooner. Her flower is in full bloom and there's nothing wrong with sampling her blossoms."

This makes me sick to my stomach.

Doesn't Michael know he's discussing his niece?

I make a mental note to segue away from the upcoming wedding. If I'd known my boss possessed such a nonchalant attitude toward principles of informed consent, I don't know if I would've worked for him.

Sixteen-year-old children, even mob boss daughters from Italy, can't consent to marriage. This isn't the Middle Ages where everyone died when they were forty. No, this entire family is letting this girl down.

"I agree, sir." My entire lived experience with Michael tells me to play along with his game. "That makes sense."

"We come from another culture." Michael lifts his hands in mock surrender. "You wouldn't swing by Abu Dhabi and lecture Middle Eastern royalty on how they run their harems. What my family does is tame compared to that."

"I've never been to Abu Dhabi."

"Do you want to go?" Michael's eyes cut into mine. "The Saudi king's son is vacationing there next month. His father owes me twenty-five million dollars for a construction project I approved in Manhattan that he defaulted on. You could kidnap him for ransom."

An icy chill works down my spine. Michael knows how strongly I feel about kidnapping innocent boys. Ollie's disappearance fucked up my entire life. I don't doubt he's saying this to get under my skin.

---