16. Bradley
brADLEY
Amountain of paperwork rests on the table next to me, each sheet detailing an expense we have to pay to make up for the closed roads, the traffic disruptions, the delays in reopening the highway, the death of Harris, overtime pay, and hush money to keep certain people quiet.
The less glamorous side of my job that keeps the Mafia world turning and the legal eye away from us.
Groaning softly, I sink down against the table until my head is in my hands and close my eyes.
Maybe the Suit needs an extra member, someone who excels at paperwork and enjoys it so much, they don’t even have to be asked.
As I’m mulling over the logistical headache of expanding the Suit, the floorboard creaks and I lift my head in time for Frank to enter, holding his tablet against his chest. From the tired grimace on his face, I know this isn’t good.
“Who is it?” I mouth at him, pointing at the table.
Frank mouths back. “Damian.”
Fuck.
I owed him a call the night we picked up Zira and just didn’t get around to it.
Part of me was putting it off in the hope that he would have faith in the Suit and trust in me to get things done, but it seems he just can’t help himself.
Drawing my hands down my face to wake myself up, I tap my cheeks and then nod at Frank.
I’m ready.
“Bradley!” Damian’s face floods the screen as he leans far too close to the camera.
“Damian.”
“Want to explain to me what the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You were supposed to call me. You said you would when you got your hands on those fuckers that stole from me, so tell me why I’m hearing through the grapevine that not only did you close a bunch of roads three days ago, but you’re also sweet with the mayor and have him spinning reports about constructions, so tell me, did you fail?
Did you fuck up?” His eyes dart back and forth as he looks me over.
“Hard to believe anyone could get the better of you, but giants always fall, right?”
My eyes narrow. “Damian, let’s get one thing clear.
I’m helping you as a favor to you in respect for the time we spent together in my youth, but don’t for one second think that you have that kind of power over me, understand?
” Measuring the power in my words, I keep my voice as calm and as level as always.
“Our history doesn’t negate the fact that I am the King, voted in place by more families than you could ever imagine, so if you want me to turn this favor into something much bigger because you can’t keep a handle on your attitude, then by all means, keep insulting me. ”
Damian’s eyes narrow and he barely masks the fury in his eyes.
Years ago when I was removed from his family to become the King of the Suit, he had a hard time letting me go.
But he did save my life, so after years of avoiding him, helping him with this problem felt like the right thing to do, but not at the expense of anyone getting the impression that they can have the Suit at their beck and call.
Rather than apologize, Damian grunts. “So, do you have them?”
“First things first. I believe Valentina returned half of the diamonds to you?”
“More like a third, but yeah,” Damian mutters. “We got them.”
“Excellent.”
“So, do you have them?”
“I have one, yes.”
“Give them to me.”
“No.”
“What? The fuck do you mean, no?”
“I have someone involved and someone else is dead. There are still two more in the wind, and I need the one I have to lead me to them. Without her, the chances of finding the rest of your diamonds reduces by half with every hour.”
“Her?” Damian’s eyes flash. “I know my rights. I know the rules. That fucking bitch stole from me and it’s my right to handle this any way I see fit, so you hand her over and I’ll uh…” He smirks. “I’ll make her talk.”
“You’re right,” I reply calmly. “But you forget that whatever honor law you want to recite to me about what your family can do in the event they are wronged, it’s always second to that person’s worth to the Suit, and right now, I say she’s essential. So no, you can’t have her.”
Anger flits through Damian’s eyes and his brow twitches as he restrains all the shit he likely wants to say but knows he can’t, not if he wants to retain my help. “So, what about my diamonds?”
“Like I said, I’m working on it.”
“Well, work faster,” he hisses and leans back against the camera.
“I’m in a lot of shit here, Bradley. Do you know what those diamonds were to pay for?
Guns. A shit ton of guns and ammo that I have possession of, and if I don’t pay them off in time, then it makes me look like a thief and I’m already stretched thin, you hear me?
I can’t afford another war, Bradley. Everyone’s hanging by a thread and you know how many small birds are under me.
If I fall, the entire McCarthy line falls, and you know how disastrous that will be.
That ripples not just for us but the Italians and the Russians too.
This is bigger than me, Bradley. Remember that.
It’s certainly bigger than one fucking girl. ”
“Trust me, Damian. I’ve been made aware of your deal with the Cartel and the consequences. I will get the diamonds back to you. Trust me.”
“You—” His anger swells and he vanishes from the screen, leaving his dark leather chair in view. Something clatters off-screen, and then his voice returns. “You'd better! I’m a desperate man, Bradley. Don’t push me.”
The call ends and silence falls in the kitchen.
“Will he be a problem?” Frank asks.
“Maybe. He stands to lose a lot, but he’s not wrong. The McCarthy line is strong and they’re tangled with a lot of families. If they go down, then we’ll be dealing with the ripples for years, and that kind of weakness in one of the biggest lines? It’s begging for trouble.”
“What do you want to do?”
I stand and gather up the papers from the table. “Zira’s not safe here anymore. I’m taking her home.”
An hour later, Frank’s SUV pulls up outside the Empire State Building and I hop out with Zira in tow. Despite the nervousness radiating from her as she glances around, likely expecting a threat to jump out at her at any moment, she can’t contain her awe as she gazes up at the building.
“Wow,” she murmurs. “I’ve always wanted to come here.” She tucks her coat tighter around her arms and a delicate frown tightens across her forehead. “Wait, I thought you were taking me home?”
“This is home.”
She gazes at me and then bursts out laughing. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not. Come with me.” As the crowds on the street around us surge, I hold out my hand, and Zira takes it after only a moment of hesitation.
It’s easy to melt into the crowd with her and Frank, and after some careful footwork, we approach the hidden entrance that hisses open after I slide my thumb over the hidden keypad.
“Wow,” Zira murmurs. “That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s technology.”
“Who even are you?” It’s the first time she’s asked me properly and something she probably should have asked a long time ago.
We walk through the entrance and down a small, brightly lit corridor to the elevator at the end. Zira, on reflex, reaches for the button, but it refuses to respond to her touch. I take over and she shoots me a look of disbelief as the elevator doors slide open.
“Is this a sexist elevator?”
I laugh loudly, taken aback by her dryness and usher her inside. “No, it’s fingerprint and DNA coded.”
“Oh. Right. Because that makes sense.” She rolls her eyes, but a small smile curls at the corner of her lips. “What I’m seeing is you’re taking me to a place I can’t leave because my fingerprints and DNA won’t match.”
“Exactly.”
“Wow, from one cell to another.” She releases my hand in favor of crossing her arms against her chest and leaning against the back of the elevator.
“This cell, I think, will be much more preferable.”
I’m right.
Up on the Empire State Building’s topmost floors is the Suit headquarters, hidden from view and known only to a handful of people.
Zira can’t keep the awe from her face as I take her through the extravagant lounges, the bar room, the in-house gym where she meets Cassian, the Jack, properly, then the gigantic kitchen where Raven, the Joker, is busy burning marshmallows in some disaster of a dessert.
The cinema room makes her mouth fall open, as does the event room where she meets Ruslan, the Ace, as he tries to beat Valentina’s top score on one of the arcade games.
I find Valentina, the Queen, in the study where she’s poring over scans of the car Zira was driving.
“Valentina, can you run a search for me?”
“On?” She glances up, and her eyes narrow faintly at the sight of Zira who gapes up at the walls of books.
“Zira? I need your phone.”
She hands it to me without question.
“We had contact with her brother. Can you trace his cell from the number and see if we can get a location?”
“You’re asking me and not Raven?” Valentina frowns and turns the phone over in her hand, then she meets my eye, and I stare at her, imploring her to catch the real truth behind my question.
It clicks in her eyes a second later and she nods.
“Sure. What’s a little practice, right? Zira, can I have your passcode? ”
Zira drags herself away from the shelves and nods. “74653,” she recites. “You’re not going to look at my socials or anything, are you?”
“If I were, I wouldn’t need your passcode,” Valentina replies. “Your privacy remains intact.”
Zira’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” I agree. “But if your brother’s phone is on, then we’ll be able to find him.”
“The sooner, the better,” she murmurs, hugging herself. “I don’t know why he won’t text me back.”
“What did he mean by liar?” Valentina asks as she returns to her desk.
“No clue,” Zira replies. “But it’s not off-brand for him to be cryptic.”
As we talk, the door behind us swings open and a blonde woman bounces in with a package of donuts. “Now, Valentina, before you say anything I need you to know these are vegan and delicious and they taste just like—oh!” She stops dead and stares wide-eyed at me and then Zira. “Hello!”
“Ivy, this is Zira.”
Ivy immediately smiles warmly and rebalances her donuts on one arm. “Zira! It’s so nice to meet you!” she exclaims, and she thrusts out her other hand.