Chapter 26

26

Cole

" I have a new assignment for you two," Dante says when Cass and I report to his office one Monday a few days after Cass's date with Alistair.

The mafia king's words are a big damn relief too.

Every time I get a text from him, ordering us to come down to his office, I worry that he's found out we've been fucking. Or that we were fucking.

"What do you need us to do?" Cass asks, as if ready to take on the world in her black slacks and…pretty blue blazer? Guess she's moved on from the casual athletic gear and is ready to look the part of a mafia princess.

"I want you two to figure out which of our house employees gave Lochlan details about my family. Somehow, he knew too much. I think he was provided photos and information. After your mothers' deaths, I've kept your birth certificates off the public records thanks to an inside source in the courthouse. Things may have worked out with Lochlan and Sophie, but that doesn't mean that I want to keep the rat working here or let them off scot-free if they've already quit and fled. My IT team hasn't found any big deposits in any current or former employee accounts, so Lochlan probably paid in cash. It had to have been someone who came into the penthouse, not just a person who worked in the casino."

"So, you want us to find the person responsible for running their mouth and make an example out of them?" I ask for clarification.

"Exactly."

Going over to the table and two chairs on the far side of his office, he slaps his palm down on a laptop sitting next to two legal pads and a box of pens. "We don't really have an HR department here, but you can find the employee histories on here, who currently works in the casino, their position, home address, et cetera. You can also find previous employees who could've left in the past few months after passing on information. Since there's a high turnover rate, it's not a short list."

"You mean because you're so picky and fire people for blinking wrong?" Cass teases her father with a grin.

"I pay them well so I can fire them for blinking wrong if I want. Now, get to work. I need a name by the end of the day."

"Today?" Cass repeats.

"It's a priority, so yes, today," he responds. "Find them, scare them. Since no one was harmed, I'll let them live this time, but we can't let them get away with it. Understood?"

"Understood," I agree.

Dante doesn't want the person killed or seriously injured, but he wants us to make them suffer in some way. Since they could've been giving information to someone shady who wanted to harm the girls, I am more than happy to help.

When Dante walks out of his office, Cass mutters to me, "If it were so damn urgent, why did he wait this long to search for them? "

"He's been busy with planning the wedding and then the drone attack and Flynn's rampage against Lochlan."

"I think he just forgot," Cass says with a smirk. "My old man is slipping."

"Dante isn't slipping. He probably has been trying to get Lochlan to give up the name, but he refused to tell him his source."

"Maybe," she agrees. Sighing with her hands on her hips, she says, "There's only one laptop with the information on it, so how do you want to do this?"

"Let's pull up the employment history to narrow down who had penthouse access during the six months or so before the wedding, then weed people out from there."

"Weed them out how? He just said there were no big deposits to their bank accounts. They could be sitting on the cash."

"Nah, people who make what house staff make would spend some of it," I assure her as I take a seat and open the device. "We just have to find out who needed the money or bought themselves an extravagant gift."

"And how will we do that if purchases won't show up in their bank account because they used cash?"

Glancing up at her, I grin. "Easy. We'll use social media."

"Social media?" she repeats as she slides a chair over to sit next to me. "You think some selfies will out our rat?"

It's stupid how much I enjoy the way she says "our" like we're working together as a team. I know we're not, that we're competitors, but most of the time it feels like we're more partners than enemies.

"Yes, I think we'll find our rat based on the photos they posted to social media. Which is why I don't fucking use it. If a normal person makes a big purchase, or is going through hard times, then they would share that shit online, complain, or brag to their friends. That's how we're going to find our rat by the end of the day."

"Going through a bunch of people's socials is going to take forever. There's no way we can figure out the culprit in a single day. "

"Good thing there are two of us. We can split up the list and use our phones to search online."

"Fine. And if I find the rat before you?" she asks.

"Then you win."

"Even though this was all your idea?"

I shrug. "I didn't say it was guaranteed to work."

"Fine," she huffs, pulling out her phone from her slacks. "Let's start by narrowing the list down to the time period and then going through each name."

Even though there's a fifty-fifty chance that Cass could luck up and find the name of the culprit, I'm not all that concerned.

The rich girl doesn't have a clue what sort of real-world problems would cost a fortune, or the type of purchases that are extravagant for a middle-class worker.

As expected, hours later, when we've both reached the bottom of our divided lists, the only thing left to do is trade lists to see if one of us may have missed something pertinent.

And of course, as I correctly guessed, Cass did overlook our rat.

"Got her!" I announce triumphantly. After hitting print on the photo of the woman who ratted out the Salvatos, I lift my arms and do a little dance on the way to the printer on Dante's desk. A hard copy of her photo isn't really necessary, it's mostly just a trophy to commemorate my win.

Cass jumps up and joins me at the printer to see who I discovered as our rat, grabbing the page as soon as the machine spits it out.

She stares at the photo, her brow furrowed. "I remember her. How can you be so certain that out of all the employees this is our rat?"

Stabbing the page with my index finger, I tell her, "Because that woman, Annette Davidson, quit a few weeks ago, posted online that she was taking time off ‘for herself,' and then recently claimed that her husband bought her a new wedding set for their anniversary."

Cass shakes her head and looks up at me, not bothering to hide her confusion. "I don't get it. What am I missing?"

"Of course, you wouldn't get it, Cassie. Middle-class people don't just quit a job cleaning hotel rooms because they have so much extra cash lying around that they can afford to take time off from the daily grind. Most live paycheck to paycheck, especially at her age."

"At her age?" Glancing down at the image again, she says, "She's young, maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven."

"Exactly! And her husband looks like he's around the same age as her. They haven't been working long enough to accumulate a big fat savings account. They live in a modest house, which likely means that neither of them comes from rich families. And they sure as shit haven't been married long enough to reach an anniversary that would deserve that many new diamonds."

"You sound so certain. What if you're wrong?"

"I don't intend to show up at their house empty-handed and pointing fingers. I'm going to get more proof."

"Where exactly will you get this proof?" she asks. And while I can tell she's disappointed she overlooked the woman, she also looks…excited to solve this mystery. Maybe she's also hoping I'm wrong so she can rub it in my face.

"We're going to go to a local jewelry store and talk to a gemologist."

"Now you're just making shit up," she grumbles handing me the page. "A gemologist?"

"Yeah, the expert who cuts and sets diamonds." Heading to the office door, waving my photo proudly like a victorious flag, I ask her, "Are you coming with me or not?"

"Fine. Whatever," she says as she follows me out. "I'm curious to see if you're actually right or just talking out of your ass like usual."

Cass

A short drive later to a local jewelry store with our four guards and we have our answer.

Cole, the cocky bastard, is right.

"Assuming this set is made of real diamonds and not cubic zirconia, then you're looking at two and a half carats give or take," an actual gemologist, an ancient one in his eighties with snowy hair, declares just from looking at a few photos of the ring online provided by Cole's phone.

"And how much would you sell that set for if those are real diamonds?"

He studies the photos for a few more moments, zooming in on the one the woman took of a close up of the ring. "Just off the top of my head, I'm guessing we would sell it for fifteen or sixteen thousand."

Cole whistles as if that's a lot of money.

Glancing at me all smug and shit, he says, "Cassie, this couple drives a truck and a car that isn't worth fifteen thousand dollars combined. I'm telling you, she stupidly splurged on the diamonds, but she probably kept part of the cash stashed away."

"If you say so."

"I do."

He sounds so damn confident. And since I have no way to challenge his explanation, I tell him, "Then let's go make her regret her incredibly stupid decision."

The gemologist pales a little at that comment, then he eyes the big men in black standing behind us like giant statutes as if just now noticing our guards.

"Don't worry. We're not going to kill her or seriously injure her," I say to him. Then to Cole, "What exactly are we going to do to her?"

"Since this is my win, I get to decide. "

"Fine. Let's go," I huff, letting him have this one victory, even if it means the two of us are tied in the quest to become my father's heir.

We drive to the address Annette Davidson used on her employment documents. The house looks similar enough to the one in the background of her recent posts, making us assume she still lives here. Their truck is also in the driveway, but not the sedan. And when we walk up to the door to knock with our four guards trailing us, no one answers.

"How disappointing. They're not home. Now what?" I ask Cole.

"Now we wait for her to get home."

"Wait? It could be hours!"

"Yeah, it could be," he agrees. "Did you have more important plans tonight?"

"Yes, actually." I check the time on my phone and swear. "I guess I'll have to reschedule since we all rode here in one SUV."

"What plans are you rescheduling?" he asks with a smirk and tilt of his head like he thinks I'm lying.

"I was supposed to meet Alistair at eight."

Cole blinks at me silently while I type out my message to him. "What?" I ask after I hit send, and he's still staring at me.

"You're joking, right? You're not actually going out with the munchkin man again."

"Would I have sent him a message asking to go out tomorrow instead of tonight if I wasn't?" I respond holding up my phone and giving it a side-to-side jiggle. The truth is that we were just going out for pizza as friends, and then to a show. Mostly, I just wanted to enjoy my freedom of being able to leave the casino with the PI until my father chooses another blind date for me to go on.

"Show me," Cole demands.

"Fine." I pull up the message log and turn the screen around to show him.

He reads each text, and even lifts a hand as if to take the phone from me to scroll up, but I pull it back and slip it into my slacks before he can grab it .

"Why?" he asks when his eyes find mine again, a scowl on his face. Ooh, he's so jealous. And I enjoy it a little too much.

"Why what?" I hedge, as if I have no clue what he's talking about.

"Why are you going out with the shrimp again?"

"Alistair is nice. And stop calling him shrimp and munchkin. It's not his fault if he's directionally challenged."

"So, you're going to see him tomorrow night instead?"

"Yep. That's what I suggested in my message, isn't it?"

"Well, then, I guess there's no reason why I shouldn't go see Inessa again tomorrow night."

I swallow down the bitter taste of fair play in my mouth. I hate just hearing her name. Still, I say, "You can do whatever you want, Cole."

He stares at me as if waiting for me to say more, like he expects me to beg him not to see another woman when it's the best thing he could do. So instead of giving him what he wants, I decide to change the subject. "Can we at least wait in the SUV instead of on these people's porch?"

"No," he responds. "Hey, Mike, do you mind?" Cole inclines his head toward the door, then says, "Cassie's guards can take the back. August, you mind moving the SUV to give us the element of surprise? They don't have a doorbell camera so we should be good."

Is it wrong that I don't even know the names of my guards? Before Cole, I would've known a lot more than the buff men's names by now. Lately, it doesn't amuse me or even seem worth the effort to flirt with my father's men. Yet another reason why I hate my stepbrother.

"Don't get killed while I'm away," the biggest man grumbles before walking back to the vehicle.

"Move aside, move aside," Mike, Cole's other guard, tells us until we're on the other side of the porch. He gets a running start, then plows his shoulder into the door. There's a crunch of wood when it snaps under his weight. A moment later, the door opens .

"After you," Cole says with a wave of his arm inside.

"Great, now we'll be charged with breaking and entering."

"Like they would report us once we confront them for being rats. And besides, Mike is the one who broke inside."

I glance back at the street, the surrounding houses. "The neighbors might have seen us."

"Nah. It's dark. Everyone's busy having dinner and shit. We're good. Even if we did catch charges, I'm sure Dante could get us out of it."

"Or Alistair," I add. "He was a cop, you know. I bet he still has connections."

Cole grumbles something under his breath as he follows me inside.

"Now what? We gonna sit and watch a little television until they return?" I ask him while also curiously examining what a middle-class home looks like on the inside. The oversized furniture and photos on the wall make it seem…cozy and comfortable.

"No. We're going to find where they're hiding the rest of that cash," Cole says as he starts down a hallway.

God, he's so full of himself.

"Good luck with that. I'm going to sit right here and let you do the dirty work since this is your win," I say before flopping into a recliner and pulling the lever to raise my feet. Definitely comfy.

"Then you won't be getting a piece of it. Mike? You want a cut? I'll halve whatever you find in cash. I'm guessing there's about ten or fifteen thousand."

"Hell, yeah," Mike says. "I'll turn this place upside down for a little extra cash," the guard says before he starts going through kitchen drawers and cabinets like he's being timed.

"Why would Lochlan pay someone thirty thousand dollars for intel on me and Sophie?" I ask Cole before he disappears down the hallway.

"Because the rich bastard was desperate for intel and could afford it," he says simply .

I barely have time to take in the row of tiny Aztec pottery sitting on the mantel before the smug asshole yells, "Found it!" from the bedroom.

Cole returns to the living room grinning a moment later, a black metal box in his hands. "They stored it in the fire safe, no lock. So trusting."

"How much?" I ask, slamming my recliner closed to go look when he sits the box on the sofa and pulls out a wad of bills.

There are so many bills it takes a while for him to count them all. "Seven thousand," he finally says.

"So, you were wrong? Didn't you say it would be ten to fifteen thousand dollars?"

"Guess they spent a little more already. But I was right about her being the rat and her having cash. And since I found it, I'm keeping it all."

Rolling my eyes, I say, "So we just wait here to let her know that we know?"

"Yep." He puts the box on the table and sits down where it was while I reclaim my recliner that rocks too. I'm not sure how anyone could get up and leave this furniture. I could sit here all day.

August comes through the front door so Mike says to him, "I'll check on the guys watching the back door, then be ready to watch the front once they get home."

"I'll hang out here with the principals," the other man responds before sinking into a chair identical to mine. "It's not often that we get to sit down on the job."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Cole tells him with a grin. Reaching for the remote on the table, he powers on the flatscreen hanging on the wall, then scrolls through the guide as if he's kicking back at home.

But then again, I guess there's nothing better to do.

Cole puts the television on an old sitcom, then props his shoes on the coffee table, hands behind his head to get comfortable.

We wait a little over an hour before we see the headlights of a car pulling into the driveway.

"Showtime!" Cole says with a clap of his hands when he pops up off the sofa and turns off the television.

"I'll be with Mike, making sure they don't call the cops or make a run for it when they see the front door," August tells us before he hurries out the back.

"Why is he going out that way?" I can't help but ask as I get to my feet and remove my gun from my ankle holster.

"To come up behind them," Cole replies as he removes his firearm from his shoulder holster. "Are you ready for this?"

I shrug. "They don't look like the type to shoot at us." I've also had time to examine the photos on the wall of their wedding.

"Probably not, but be prepared, just in case."

One of my guards comes back inside, and even stands directly in front of me, which is a little annoying since it's hard to see around him. But I let him shield me until everyone is back inside.

"Keep your hands up and walk in slow and easy," I hear August say when the broken front door is peeled open. "There you go, just like that. We're all armed."

"Wh-what's going on?" the twenty-something, heavy-set man asks when he appears in the living room first, followed by his much smaller wife.

Her eyes dart around the room at each person, then widen when she sees me peeking my head out from behind my guard. "Oh, shit."

"Oh shit is right," Cole says to her. "You were paid about, what, thirty grand to give up details on Dante Salvato's daughters by Lochlan Dunne, weren't you?"

Her jaw drops open momentarily, as if surprised that we figured it out. Or that Cole figured it out.

"I-I thought he was a…a family friend," she says softly.

"Bullshit," Cole snaps at her.

"But…he just married Sophie. Didn't he?" she asks .

"Yes, but you couldn't have known in advance if he was going to use the information you provided to harm the girls, could you?"

I vehemently oppose being called a girl, but I let it slide this time.

The woman shakes her head.

"Give us the rings and we'll leave. We already found your cash stash and confiscated it."

The woman, Annette, glances up at her husband as if asking his advice. "You heard him. Hand it over, baby. I knew this would bite us in the ass."

Finally, she lowers her hands. Twisting the rings off her finger, she holds them out. August reaches over her back and plucks them from her. "Thank you, ma'am."

"You're lucky we're only taking back what you made off your betrayal," Cole tells her. "And good luck finding another job in this city now that your ‘me time' is over. You're going to be blacklisted at every hotel."

"Head out the back whenever you're ready, boss," August says. "I'll keep an eye on them until you're both secured in the car."

With a nod, Cole heads for the back door with me following him, my guard behind me.

We gather Mike and the other guard to load up the SUV parked down the road. A moment later, August slides into the passenger seat, then twists around to drop the two rings into Cole's waiting palm.

"Nice work tonight, gentlemen," Cole tells them. He holds the rings up to the windows, the streetlights glistening off the diamonds.

"What are you going to do with the rings and the cash?" I can't help but ask him. Not that I want him to give me a diamond or anything. That's just silly.

"I'll take the rings back to the gemologist who helped us earlier and see what he'll give me for them."

"Then what?"

He slides the rings onto his pinky finger, the only finger they will fit on. "Then…I'll settle up some old debts."

I have no clue what that means, so I just say, "I wonder what your mother would think about you being a petty thief."

"Fuck you. Dante sanctioned this theft, and Theo deserved it," he replies while staring out the window.

And for the first time in weeks, it feels like there's a massive crater expanding between us. Cole has never acted so…distant before.

I should be happy that he's finally taking the hint, but all I feel is dejected.