32. Nik

CHAPTER 32

Nik

I watch, startled, as Brie leaps from the bed, all languid post-coital contentment forgotten. She grabs a gold satin dressing gown—everything about her is gold these days, like she’s got the Midas touch—and starts pulling out the drawers of her vanity, searching through them.

“What on earth are you doing?” I ask, noting how her hands shake slightly despite her determined expression.

She whirls to face me, her wet hair creating dark patches on her robe. “When Holden was reviewing all that security footage, he was looking for everywhere Terry might have gone with the will. But he never saw Terry go anywhere—or so he thought, because—” She gestures wildly at the dressing room. “—Holden completely forgot about this place. Everyone does. They prefer to think of me as simply appearing on the casino floor, looking completely fucking amazing every night. And this dressing room is just down and around the corner from Terry’s office. He would have been in and out in minutes.”

The brilliance of it hits me. Hiding something precious here, in a space most men wouldn’t think to look at twice. A space that belongs entirely to Brie.

“Remember how Holden kept asking where I was staying that was ‘so safe’?” she asks, as she dumps out her jewelry box next.

“I remember feeling like I’d rather he didn’t know about this place,” I admit.

“Same,” she says, and sadness touches her again. “Maybe we both had an inkling back then. Oh my God, it has to be here. But where?” She stands with her hands on her hips, heading whipping around as she scans the small room. She seems almost manic now, driven by the possibility of finally having proof of what Terry saw in her—what I see in her every day.

I grab her shoulders gently, steadying her frenetic energy. The familiar urge to protect her wars with my newer understanding that sometimes the best protection is helping her protect herself.

Because I think it’s pretty unlikely that Terry Colombo would have just thrown such an important document into Brie’s dressing room, which doesn’t even have a decent lock on the door.

“Hey. Breathe for a second. Think. Holden must have looked through here already,” I point out gently, not wanting to upset her. “He would have gone through every office and every closet and every door in the corporate area. Besides, your husband would have wanted somewhere secure for something this important. He wouldn’t just toss it in with your makeup and clothes.”

“Oh my God, I’m an idiot!” Brie slaps her forehead, then dodges past me, pushing aside racks of designer clothes, kicking shoes out of the way impatiently, until she reaches a small closet set into the wall behind.

She flings it open. It’s stuffed with plastic and cloth laundry bags, and more shoes, which she kneels down and begins flinging behind her, oblivious.

I dodge a stiletto—the shoe kind, not the bladed kind.

Finally she gets down to the floor of the closet, and pulls back a square of the carpet to reveal a safe set into the floor.

“This is where I keep my jewelry,” she says, pausing for a moment as she looks down at it. “The real stuff, I mean. You remember, I told you?”

“I remember. But I thought you meant they were in a bank .”

“I’m so nervous I can’t remember the combination,” Brie says with a slightly hysterical giggle. Her hand hovers over the keypad, and I’m struck by how young she looks in this moment.

“Take a breath,” I tell her, resting my hand on her shoulder.

She lets out a small sigh. “Ah. Of course. How could I…” She looks up at me with sadness in her eyes. “We set it to Holden’s birthday.” Her voice catches, and I feel the tremor that runs through her. “We both agreed on it because Holden was the one who brought Terry and me together in the first place. I said I owed him. Terry said he did, too.”

Pain flashes across her face, and I squeeze her shoulder gently. The weight of Holden’s betrayal is still fresh.

“You need to open it,” I say gently.

Her fingers shake as she inputs the code. The safe clicks open with a sound that seems to echo in the suddenly too-small room. She reaches inside to pull out several jewelry cases, putting them aside impatiently on the floor—and then she pulls out a large manila envelope with her name on it in big, straggly handwriting.

“That’s his writing,” Brie murmurs. She breaks the seal and takes out the papers inside. Her voice is barely a whisper as she reads, “This is the last will and testament of Salvatore Colombo…”

“Read the whole thing. Quickly.”

Brie skims through the document, her eyes widening. When she speaks, her voice is high and breathless with disbelief. “It’s true—exactly what Frank said. Terry named me his heir, not just to the casino but to the Colombo Family itself.” She swallows hard, her finger tracing the words as if to make sure they’re real. “And Holden…oh, God, he was right too. Terry wrote him out completely after what he calls ‘a terrible betrayal.’“

Her phone rings, making us both jump. Frank’s name lights up the screen, shattering the quiet intimacy of our discovery with the reality of what comes next.

Brie grabs the phone. “Frank, I found the will—” she starts, but he cuts her off immediately. I can hear the urgency in his voice even from where I stand, and I waste no time, pulling on my clothes and making sure my gun is loaded.

Brie ends the call and looks at me, her face set with that quiet determination I’ve come to admire so much. “Larry is making another play. He’s called in all the junior Capos as well, and there’s a meeting in the conference room.” She pauses, looking up as though thinking. “Nik, I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything.” The word comes instantly, without thought. I’d walk through fire for this woman, and we both know it. Like Terry, I saw something in her from the start—not just beauty or ambition, but a woman who will reshape this whole city—if given the chance.

She takes a deep breath. “You’re not going to like it,” she warns. “But I need you to call Eva Novak.”

She’s right. I don’t like it.

But I’m already reaching for my phone.