Chapter 32
CHAPTER 32
V incent
After a long, hot shower, of which at least the first ten minutes consisted of pulling out a surprising number of bobby pins from her hair, I kill the water and begin to dry her off with a warm towel before carrying her back to bed. I pull one of my old, soft t-shirts out.
“Arms up, kitten,” I tell her. She immediate raises them, and I slip the shirt on her. It might as well be a dress for how big it is compared to her tiny frame. “Stay,” I order, pointing at her seat on the bed.
As I walk out of the room, I hear a “ woof .”
Good girl. Her resilience is impressive. I grab a large bottle of water and fill a glass with two shots of vodka. Returning, I hand it to her.
She looks at me confused. “I don’t want a drink.”
“It will help you sleep. You need to sleep.”
“But—”
“Drink, kitten.”
She obediently downs the vodka, and then makes a face of disgust. “Blech, I hate straight liquor.”
I chuckle. “Think of it as medicinal this time.” Setting the water on the nightstand, I make sure her phone is there and charging. “I have some things to take care of now. I’ll be done as soon as I can. I need you to try and get some sleep, okay?”
She nods.
“Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m not leaving the house tonight.”
“Okay.” She swings her legs into bed, and I pull the covers up over her before kissing her forehead again.
Downstairs, Marco is already waiting for me in my office.
“What the fuck do we know about LeBlanc?” I ask, pouring a generous glass of whisky.
“Our father used to launder money pretty heavily through him, which you know. You also know that he was shit at it and took too fucking many risks, so we dropped him like the steaming shit pile he is.”
I nod. It was actually one of my first major moves as don, and I don’t fucking regret it. Slimy bastard would turn state’s evidence in a heartbeat if the opportunity presented itself.
“Well, since then, he’s opened up a couple hotels, and I’m willing to bet that’s how he’s handling his funds these days. Most likely for the Russians, but who fucking else knows at this point. Irish maybe, but I doubt it.”
“Agreed. The Irish are pretty well set up with their assorted business interests. They can wash most of their own.” I take another fortifying sip of the whisky. One of the only things that isn’t offensive about the fucking Irish is their ability to make whisky.
Marco has wandered over to the bar himself and is working on his own glass. “What did Sarah have to do with it all?”
“Sounds like a coincidence. It’s not the first time he’s harassed her, though it is the first time he’s threatened her outright. He also seemed to know that we had a relationship.”
“Wonder where he got that information from? You two haven’t been seen together much at all.”
“That’s the other thing. He made some veiled threats, implied that he knew I wouldn’t be don for much longer.”
Marco contemplates his drink for several minutes. I finish mine and go for a refill.
“The accounts that got leaked to the cops? Those arrangements were made the same time your father was working with LeBlanc. If he was trying to eliminate competition, those might be the only ones he knows about.”
“Clearly he seems to think that he needs to clean up the market,” I muse.
“Like if you had an agreement with someone who you thought would be taking over la Cosa Nostra and you wanted to be the only game in town?” Marco asks.
“You think he’s in bed with Rizutto?”
Marco nods, tossing the rest of his drink back. “He’d be set up to move large amounts of money quickly, and if the smaller cleaners are shut down, it cuts down on competition. And it’s just a bonus if you get arrested because of it.”
“Get men watching LeBlanc’s residence and hotels. And see if we can get into their security cameras. If Rizutto shows up, I want to fucking know about it. Let’s get this bullshit settled once and for all.”