Page 64 of Salvatore

She smiles and reclaims her knitting. “Update me on your siblings.”

The wording isn’t lost on me.Yoursiblings. Notmychildren.

I tell her about Matthew and Layla thriving in D.C. while trying to slowly distance themselves from any criminal influence.

“Is there any news of children yet?” she mutters.

“Not that I’ve heard, but when the news does break it’s not like I’ll be on the top of the call list.”

Her soulless eyes soften. “They resent you because you’re better than them. They want what you have.”

“I know.” I slide an inch down my chair, trying to find the illusive comfy spot, and cross my legs at the ankles.

“Tell me about Abri.” She grates her daughter’s name while she loops and pulls her thread of wool. “Is she still with thatbutcher?”

“She is, and she’s happier for it. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know your granddaughter is growing up to be a headstrong young girl… or so I’m told.”

“That girl is no granddaughter of mine. But it’s nice to hear Abri is reaping what she sowed. What about Remy?”

He’s distracted. Unreliable. In love.

I flick an errant piece of fluff off the thigh of my trousers. “He hasn’t changed. He’s still trying to brown-nose his way into every situation. Lorenzo favors him and?—”

“My brother favors him?” She dumps her knitting on the bed. “Don’t you dare let him take your position.” She pushes to her feet. “You were the one born to lead.Youhave the skills. Not him.”

What she means to say is that it’s imperative I claim the seat of power. Any chance of her freedom depends on it, seeing as though I’m the only one of her children who bothers to visit, while the others pray for her death.

“He’s not going to take anything from me.” My cell vibrates from my jacket pocket. I claim it, read Remy’s name, then lock the screen to reject the incoming call. “I’ve been thinking…” I push to my feet and slowly pace. “I know we’ve discussed getting you out of here once I’m in control, but there’s an option to potentially make that happen sooner.”

She approaches the bars, claiming them in a white-knuckled grip. “How?”

“It wouldn’t be complete freedom. At least not at first, but I’ve gained enough bargaining power with Lorenzo to argue for getting you placed somewhere more comfortable.”

Thoughts dance behind her conniving eyes. She’s already strategizing. Scheming.

“I could buy you a house,” I continue. “Maybe give you free rein inside those four walls.”

She swallows, the wrinkled skin along her throat working overtime. “Your ungrateful siblings wouldn’t allow it.”

“You’re right. They would scream for blood, and you would need to be protected, but it’s achievable. The problem is that I would have to fund the project myself, and cash flow isn’t exactly fluid at the moment.”

Her gaze narrows. “What happened to the family trust you all stole? Don’t tell me you’ve squandered it already.”

I keep my expression on lock. Casual. Dismissive.

It was neither a family trust nor stolen money. The funds were built off the back of my parents’ systematic manipulation of me and my siblings. They seized every dollar we earned and claimed it was for our future when what they really aimed to achieve was our control. But it’s water under the bridge and all that.

“I’m funding a new lifestyle, Mother. There’s a certain level of prestige that needs to be portrayed.”

She scoffs, low-key incredulous. “I wish I could help.” She raises her chin, adamantly stubborn in her lie. “But you’ve already taken everything.”

I pause. Stare. Wait her out, like I have for over a year now.

We both know she has more money squirreled away. Hundreds of millions hidden somewhere, never to be found unless she shares the details.

My cell vibrates again. Another call from Remy.

“Well…” I grab the wooden chair and carry it to the corner of the room. “In that case, the increased freedoms may take a little longer to arrange. You’ll need to be patient.”

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