Page 58 of Surprise Quadruplets for the Mob

I need to go into the office. I need to face the music and figure out what the fuck is going on. I need to know if Alyosha found out anything else.

As I’m getting dressed, my phone starts to ring. I grab it, irrationally hoping for a split-second that it’s Abby.

But it’s not her. It’s Lev.

“Hello?” I answer, trying to sound more like a functioning human being and less like a complete train wreck.

“You awake, boss? I’m on my way over.”

I don’t ask why. I honestly don’t care. My hand is throbbing and my head is pounding and I just want some fucking coffee before I murder someone. “Whatever,” I grumble. “I’ll be here.”

***

I’ve just had time to sit down with a cup of coffee when Lev walks in. I glance up at him and he raises an eyebrow, no doubt picking up on my shitty mood.

“Coffee?” I ask.

“Sure.” He’s being unusually quiet, and I hate it.

I pour him a cup and hand it to him, then take a long sip of my own. We drink in silence for a moment, and then he speaks.

“You sent Abby away?”

This isn’t how I want to start the day. This definitely isn’t what I want to talk about. “Yeah. I did.”

“Why?”

I glare at him, irritated by his line of questioning. “Because she’s a liar. A thief. And she doesn’t care about me. She’s not who we thought she was.”

Lev frowns, taking a sip of his coffee before answering. “You’re sure?”

I narrow my eyes. “There’s proof. Paperwork. A goddamn DNA test, for fuck’s sake. The kids aren’t mine. What else do I need to be sure?”

He nods, looking thoughtful. “What does your gut say, though?”

“Fuck my gut.”

Lev snorts, and then covers it up with a cough. “Sorry.”

“I’m serious,” I growl. “She’s a con artist. She’s good at it, too. But her game is over. She played me and she won, and now it’s done. Over. Finished.”

“Okay, boss.” Lev takes another sip of his coffee, but he’s obviously holding something back.

“What? Just fucking say it, whatever it is.”

“I just don’t think it makes any sense. Abby seems like a good girl. She’s a hard worker, she loves her sister and those kids, and she’s not the type to screw someone over.”

“Not the type?” I echo. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? People are always the type. Everyone’s got a dark side. We’ve seen plenty of that shit firsthand. It’s not like this should be a shock.”

“No, but…it doesn’t seem like her at all,” he points out. “There are usually hints of a person’s darker side, but there haven’t been any with Abby. And we’ve been watching her for a while. No hints. No outbursts. No red flags. Unless there’s something you haven’t told me,”

I glare at him, irritated by the truth in his words. “Are you really going to stand there and defend her?”

“I’m not defending her,” he says. “I’m just saying it doesn’t add up. I’m having a hard time believing she’s a criminal mastermind or whatever the hell you’re accusing her of being.”

“And I’m telling you there’s proof. Hard, undeniable proof. You want to see the papers? I can show you the papers. Want to look at the fucking DNA test? Look at it. I’ve got it all right here.”

Lev raises his hands. “I’m not looking for a fight. I’m just trying to understand.”

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