Page 91 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

A cop. At our meeting.

It shouldn’t have been possible. We put this together fast, and only a handful of people knew.

Someone leaked. That’s the only answer.

My guys were vetted the way I vet everything—blood loyalty, tested in fire. Aleksio’s crew is hardened—men who’ve lost everything to stay by his side. And Razvan? He’s a ghost. No face, no name, just a whisper in the right circles. He’s careful.

We drink raki and talk business, but something else gnaws at the back of my mind.

“Circle-shaped cookies in the lobby. An hour before our meeting. That’s too much of a coincidence.”

Orton scowls. “What the fuck good is a message from the unseen world if we don’t see it?”

“A bouquet the size of a Range Rover isn’t exactly subtle. It’s a fucking neon sign screaming to cancel the meeting.”

“The spirits use whatever tools are available. You got a problem with it? Take it up with the Bogomils.”

The Bogomils were Albanian mystics; their ancient cave church is shrouded in lore to this day, though the Bogomils themselves are long gone.

I set down my glass. “Find out who sent the cookies.”

He exhales sharply. “Seriously?”

“I wanna know.”

He thinks it’s a waste of time, but he’ll do it.

“It’s too something,” I say.

“Everything is too something.”

I smirk. “I’ll put that on your gravestone.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

His phone vibrates. He checks it.

“Aleksio thinks Razvan might be open to giving it another try.”

That surprises me. Did he not see the cop? Maybe Razvan never made it that far inside. Maybe the cookies kept him out.

“You extended my apologies?”

“From all of us.”

“See about rescheduling.”

We talk dates and places. Obviously, not at the hotel.

Orton starts working his phone, and I work my drink, letting the alcohol burn as it goes down.

My thoughts return to Edie. The sharp glint of her green eyes. Her stubborn scorn. How badly she wanted to despise me but could never quite bring herself to.

Doesn’t matter. I’m done with her.

Orton’s phone dings. He checks it. “Fingerprint results for your mystery lady.”

“I don’t wanna know. She’s nobody.”

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