Page 69 of Sweet Sin

Maybe this is all a test, because a couple hundred thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine is not a lot to someone like Diego Vega. If it had turned out to be a good place for a dead drop, that old barn would be filled with drugs buried underneath its surface.

It’s a good thing Hawk and I found that shit. Otherwise God knows what would be stored on our property.

Nana pushes a button on her intercom. “Lawrence?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Could you come to the library, please?”

“Right away, ma’am.”

Lawrence is Nana’s butler and close confidant.

A moment later, he enters, clad in his tuxedo. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Close the door, please, Lawrence.”

Lawrence does as he’s told, and then nods to me. “Mr. Bellamy.”

“Hi, Lawrence.”

“Falcon needs a million dollars in cash. Would you get it for him, please?”

“Absolutely. Give me just a moment.”

Lawrence leaves the room.

Funny. I always thought Nana stored her hordes of cash somewhere in the library. Apparently I was wrong.

Or if she does, she doesn’t want me to know about it. So she has another place, and Lawrence is getting it from there.

I learned long ago to never underestimate my grandmother. She’s smart as a whip, and just as sneaky.

Lawrence returns with a black duffel bag and hands it to me. “Mr. Bellamy.”

“Thank you, Lawrence, and thank you so much, Nana. I’ll get the transfer started right away.”

“Don’t worry about that, my sweetheart. I know you’re good for it. I have so much money, and this is nothing to me. I know you wouldn’t ask unless you had a good reason, Falcon. So please, just make sure my trust in you is not misplaced.”

I rise, walk over to her, and kiss her wrinkled cheek. “It’s not, Nana. I promise.”

I pick up the duffel bag, and then I walk out of the library. Lawrence follows me. When we get to the door, he touches my arm.

“Yes?” I ask.

“These bills are unmarked,” he says. “They can’t be traced back to your grandmother.”

“Thank you for your discretion,” I say.

Lawrence glares at me. “She’s an old and frail woman, Mr. Bellamy.”

“She’s old, yes. I wouldn’t call her frail.”

He steps toward me, lowering his voice. “She thinks she’s stronger than she is. Remember. I see her every day. I wait on her every day. I’ve watched her decline over the past couple of years. She loves you. She loves you and your brothers and sisters and your mother and father so much.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.”

“She believes in you,” Lawrence says. “But she’s blinded by her love for you. A grandson with a trust fund doesn’t just come in asking his grandmother for cash. If it were for anything other than nefarious purposes, you would’ve just gone to the bank.”

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