18. Nik

CHAPTER 18

Nik

I keep a firm grip on Phil’s arm as we follow Brie through the back corridors to the private elevator—but this time, we go down instead of up. Once the doors open, I have to blink to help my eyes adjust to the much more dimly lit service passages. They’re like a maze of concrete and steel, invisible to the glamorous world above. The fluorescent lights hanging above flicker and buzz, casting harsh shadows that make Phil’s nervous sweat more visible as I hustle him along. He stumbles slightly on the uneven floor, and I tighten my hold, feeling the rapid flutter of the pulse in his wrist beneath my fingers.

The deeper we go, the more this place feels designed for exactly what we’re about to do.

Brie moves ahead of us, the sound of her heels completely incongruous. If she’s troubled by what we’re about to do, it doesn’t show—but she’s the one who gave me the instructions, after all. And all at once, we come to a stop outside a thick steel door, which Brie tugs open and then ushers us into.

This is where the Colombo Family handles their messier problems. I’ve been in rooms like this before. “I can handle this,” I say to Brie, offering her an out.

“And so can I,” she says coldly. “Put him in the chair.”

“What is this about?” Phil’s voice is shrill, and when I strip off his suit jacket, his shirt is already showing sweat stains at the underarms. “Mrs. Colombo, there’s been some kind of mistake?—”

“Shut up.” I guide him none too gently toward the heavy chair in the middle of the room, bolted to the floor. The air smells of industrial cleaner and something sweetly metallic. I note the room’s features automatically: drain in the center of the slightly sloped concrete floor, hooks in the ceiling that could support a man’s weight, steel table bolted to the wall that’s been recently cleaned but shows years of use.

The temperature down here can’t be more than sixty degrees, but Phil’s sweating harder now. His eyes widen as I start securing him to the chair, testing each restraint. The leather straps are well-worn but maintained, professional grade—the kind used by people who take their work seriously.

“You can’t do this,” he protests, but there’s more fear than conviction in his voice. His hands shake as I secure his wrists.

“You were logged into Sophie’s computer.” Brie’s voice is ice-cold as she circles him. In this harsh lighting, with her pale hair and sharp expression, she looks like an avenging wraith. The sight of her like this—confident, powerful, dangerous—makes my heart race in a way that has nothing to do with the job at hand.

“That can’t be true.” Phil shakes his head frantically, his collar now dark with sweat. “I couldn’t have been?—”

“Just like you couldn’t have been skimming money from the casino?” I lean in close, letting him see the threat in my eyes. “Sophie was tracking you. She knew it was you. And now she’s lucky to be alive.”

“No!” The word explodes from him, echoing off the concrete walls. “I didn’t—I went to Mrs. Colombo about the skimming myself! Why would I do that if I was the one stealing?”

“Getting ahead of the story?” Brie suggests smoothly. “Before Sophie came to me?”

Phil’s panic gives way to something like desperate frustration. The chair creaks as he strains against the restraints. “That’s not true. Joe Buccino came to me first, before he was sent away! He noticed the cuts from the casino getting smaller, asked me to look into it. I was doing my job! ”

Big Joe, the Colombo Underboss, came to Phil about the skimming? I exchange a glance with Brie. Phil’s outrage seems genuine, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’ve known plenty of skilled liars in my time, and the best ones always mix truth with their deceptions.

“Where were you the night my husband was killed?” Brie demands.

“I was with Frank Colombo in the bar most of the night, trying to get him to stop drinking so much. Was with him the whole time, right up until he went off to talk to Mr. Colombo and…well, found him dead.”

Brie tips her head to the side slightly as she regards him. “We will be checking the footage, Phil. And if I find out you’re lying…”

“I’m not,” he insists. He glances at me, but I just stare back at him. “What are you going to do to me?” Phil’s voice rises an octave, cracking on the last word. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple. “Kill me?”

Brie laughs. “Of course not, Phil. What do you take me for—some old-time gangster?” She nods at me. “Let him go.”

I hesitate for a fraction of a second, but I trust Brie’s instincts more than I’ve ever trusted anyone’s but my own.

Phil stands, visibly shaking. “Wh—what now?” he asks.

“Now you go back upstairs and keep doing your job,” Brie tells him. “I’m glad we got this sorted out. Oh—and please call Frank in to help with the police, as you suggested.”

Phil practically runs for the door, his expensive shoes slipping slightly on the concrete, but I catch him before he can reach it. Leaning in close, I pitch my voice low. “And don’t even think about leaving town. If you do…” I let the threat hang in the air, feeling him tremble. “…I’ll find you.”

I turn to Brie once his running feet have died away. “Was that wise? Letting him go?”

She’s already shaking her head, and I watch as some of her ice queen persona melts away. “It’s not Phil. He’s not stupid enough to log in under his own damn name.”

“So someone’s setting him up, now?” I ask drily, moving closer to her. “Maybe they’ve moved on from you.”

Brie sighs, rubbing a hand over her shoulder and the back of her neck as she rolls her head. The gesture is pure exhaustion, and this time I don’t fight the urge to touch her. My hands find her waist, steadying her, grounding us both. She leans into me slightly, letting some of her weight rest against me.

“Whoever was skimming the money used his log-on as well,” she points out. “But I feel like I don’t know anything anymore. Nik…” She looks up at me. “We need to find a way to talk to Big Joe. Not just because of what Phil claimed, but because I want to hear his take on all this. And on Terry’s crazy idea to name me his successor. Surely he would have talked that over with Joe.”

“One small problem,” I point out, my thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “He’s in federal prison. They’re not going to let you waltz in there, no matter how much cleavage you show. And all his phone calls would be recorded.”

A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth. “Then I guess we’ll have to get creative.”

“Creative? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I’m not thrilled about it myself, but if Joe wasn’t in prison, he’d be the new Don Colombo, no questions asked. I at least owe it to him to ask his opinion.” She sucks in a deep breath and looks around the room, pulling away from me regretfully. “Nik, I don’t like saying this, but…”

“What is it?” I ask at once.

She turns to face me, and I’m not looking at my Brie right now. I’m looking at Breezy Colombo, Family Boss. “Next time we bring someone down here—if there is a next time—don’t undermine me.”

“Undermine?” I frown, confused. “What did I?—”

“When you said you could handle it? You made it sound like there was a question around whether I could.” She makes a face. “I need to make sure people understand that I’m not messing around when I threaten them.”

I take that in. And then I nod. “For what it’s worth,” I say carefully, “it’s not that I don’t think you can handle it. I just meant that I could take care of the dirty work for you. Most people in your position, they don’t…well, they keep their hands clean. Eva Novak knows exactly what her people are doing, how they’re doing it, and when they’re doing it—but she would never be caught dead in a room like this.”

She thinks that over for a moment. “I understand what you mean. Juno Bianchi…I think she’s the same. But someone like Hadria Imperioli?—”

“Oh, yeah,” I say with a grin. “Hades had quite the reputation even before she unmasked herself. Maybe what I’m saying is…” I try to find the best way to explain. “You need to think about what kind of leader you want to be.”

She looks around the room again. “I don’t like it in here,” she says at last. “But I think that’s why it’s important that I be present in it. I don’t want to hide away from what my choices mean. I think it’s important that I understand the—the full ramifications of my decisions.”

“I think that’s admirable,” I tell her, coming close to take her hand. “And I think you’re going to be an amazing boss for the Colombos.”

“If they ever accept me,” she sighs.

“No doubt in my mind.” There really isn’t. Brie is smart, tough, capable—and she can take advice when she needs it. Down here in this room designed for violence, I want to shelter her—but I know she doesn’t need it.

Maybe that’s what makes us work. We’re both willing to do whatever it takes.

She comes back into my arms and hugs me. “Whatever you’re planning,” I murmur against her hair, “I’m with you.”

“I’ll need you to help me stay strong,” she says. “But for now, let’s go check on poor Sophie.”