Over the years, revenue had slowly dropped to the point where we were only slightly making a profit. The economy excuse was bullshit because we had no problem selling guns. When Stefan had brought that argument to the table, Samuel had then blamed the government. He'd said cops were cracking down on our clientele and with so many free programs to help people get clean there weren’t enough people with a habit to sell to. Dylan was, sadly, backing up all the shitty excuses his father was spewing.
Just listening to Stefan, I could tell things weren’t adding up. He'd looked into their bank accounts to see if they were lining their own pockets and lying about making the bare minimum, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Just the income Stefan paid them. He suspected they had offshore accounts under different names. Without the names, more investigating would be needed, and that required finesse.
Samuel had his own pillar of power within the family, which included a good number of men and spies who were loyal to him. If anyone loyal to Stefan got caught sniffing around Samuel or Dylan, an internal war could ensue, which was why I was shouldered with this task. I guessed this was my initiation.
If Samuel or Dylan were guilty of stealing from the family…
Deep down, I’d never trusted my uncle. Those doubts stemmed from being treated unfairly and how he interacted with Stefan. I’d never thought he would do something that would hurt the family.
Unless he assumed what he was doing wasn’t hurting the family. We still made money from the drugs. Just not as much anymore. Maybe this was a ploy to undermine Stefan or dethrone him.
Dylan had to be naive to all this. I was sure of it. Even though Dylan was older than me, he could be weak and wasn’t the brightest. He was emotionally driven and easily riled, which could be deadly for a mobster. There was no way he could pull off something like this on his own.
My best theory was that if someone was guilty, it was Samuel. He was the one behind it all and Dylan—if he knew about what was going on at all—was being manipulated by his father. Not that it mattered. He was a dead man walking. They both were.
“This task is going to be more than just reading books and internet hacking or else you would already have the answers you need. I might have to get my hands dirty and with that comes risks. Are you going to allow me to do that to get this job done?” I asked. He refused to let me leave the house without a goon glued to my hip.
With raised eyebrows, he sat back in his chair. “To a certain extent. Last night’s test was more than just about proving your loyalty.” Just mentioning the stupid test irritated me. I wasn’t completely over it just yet. “What we acted out in front of you could really happen. It’s a bloody business we’re in. We have a lot of enemies and I needed you to show me that you could handle it.”
“And did I?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but I’d like to hear him say it anyway. I kicked ass.
“Just be smart and stay safe,” he drawled, disappointing me. He pushed his chair back and walked over to his liquor trolley. He reached for the painting on the wall above the trolley. Sliding his fingers behind it, he pulled, swinging it to the side on hidden hinges.
In the wall was a sleek black safe with a keypad lock. Stefan entered in a code, unlocking the safe door, and took out two tan leather books with a flash drive resting on top of them.
“The leather books are from when your grandfather ran things. I modernized us by switching to the flash drive when I took over,” he explained. As he handed over the books and flash drive, there was a knock on the door. “Come in!”
The door opened and in walked a few of Stefan’s personal goons with a young man apprehensively trailing behind. The first few things I noticed about the young man were his shoes and his hair. His sneakers were neon red, which was the only color of clothing he wore apart from black. His hair was bright pastel blue and had a spiky messy style to it. Compared to his pale skin and dark clothes, the two colors popped in contrast.
His age really threw me. He was just a kid. Eighteen or nineteen, maybe.
“Vincent, thank you for coming,” Stefan greeted, and I stood from my chair.
“You really didn’t give me much of a choice. I still don’t see why I can’t do this from home,” the kid grumbled. I smiled. He had spunk.
“As we discussed, my daughter will be the one working with you, and for her safety, it’s best you stay and work together here rather than at your home.” He made the word home sound like there was something wrong with it. What is so wrong with where this guy lives?
At the mention of me, Vincent’s eyes traveled to mine. I gave him a schooled expression as I continued to study him. Stefan hadn't shaken his hand, therefore, I didn’t either. The poor kid seemed ready to bolt. Not that I could blame him. How the hell did he get mixed up with Stefan?
I looked to the goons towering over him and stepped ahead of Stefan. “I got it from here, gentlemen, but on your way out, can you tell Dean I’d like a sandwich and some chocolate chip cookies? Oh! And some French fries and a chocolate shake. Would you like something?” I directed my question to Vincent. He appeared a little surprised by my offer. “You can order anything you’re craving. It’s lunch time. Unless you already ate…”
Vincent’s eyes shifted down. “A sandwich with some fries sounds good,” he said in a low voice.
I looked back to one of the goons. “Please pass on our orders specifically to Dean and tell him we’ll receive it in my room.” I smiled sweetly. One of the goons nodded before pulling out his phone on their way out the door.
“Oh, I didn’t want anything. Thanks for asking though,” Stefan said sarcastically.
I turned my smile to him and saw that he wasn’t at all hurt. “I’m sure Brody already has lunch on its way for you.”
“And why didn’t you give your food requests to Brody or the kitchen staff?” he asked.
“Angela might be in the kitchen. I don’t want skank with my food.”
Stefan sighed, slightly annoyed. “What about Brody?”
“Dean is my Brody in training.” Plus, I got a twisted pleasure from ruffling his feathers. He was too easy to rile, and it was highly entertaining. Was I being a bitch? Yup, but it was all in good fun. Mine, specifically.
“Maura, he already has a job and that is to protect you.”
“He can do both.” I brushed off Stefan’s protests with a wave of my hand. “Has anyone told him he’s been assigned to me yet?”
Stefan paused. “No. I haven’t passed on that news to Louie yet and I don’t think Jameson has either.”
“Good. I want to do it.” I turned back to Vincent, who had been quietly watching our exchange. “I guess we better get started.”
CHAPTER 28
Dean was not happy, especially after I told him about his new job responsibilities, which he doubted right away and called Louie. Stefan, I assumed, had informed Louie of Dean’s new position in between the time we'd left his office and when Dean showed up with my and Vincent’s lunch. Dean physically paled as Louie confirmed what I had already told him.
“I wouldn’t look at guarding me as a bad thing, Grumpy. It’s a promotion,” I tried to reassure him while fighting back the bubbling laughter in my chest.