Page 148 of Malicious Claim

His father gazed at him expectantly.

"It started when I went to see Caruso about the Orel Bratva. I was nearly killed, and in brief, we tracked the hit to a woman named E.B. That's all I know so far."

Don Matteo raised an eyebrow. "There's an assault on you, but you don't even know who is behind it?"

Makros exhaled. "Dad, if I counted all the people I annoyed, I'd die from exhaustion before a bullet. And besides, Dragon is following up a lead."

The Don shook his head, his expression unclear. He leaned forward after a while of silence. "Have you heard from your brother?"

Makros' jaw tightened. He shook his head. "Not since he got thrown out."

His father took a deep breath, but otherwise didn't move. "Good. Let that stay that way. I know you, don't go looking for him to gloat."

Makros scoffed, shaking his head. "Gloat? Please. I'm not looking for him, and even if I was, it wouldn't be to rub anything in. I've always been better than him."

His father studied him for a long moment, then exhaled. "Alright then."

Makros' grip on the letter tightened. He tapped the envelope against his palm, pressing his lips into a thin line before speaking. "I'll look into this."

By the time he reached his office, the tension in his muscles had settled into something sharper, edged with intent. He pushed open the door, crossed to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a drink.

The red liquid foamed as he raised the glass to his lips.

Behind him, the door creaked open.

Makros did not turn, but he could see the reflection in the glass of the liquor cabinet.

"What have you gotten out of Dimitri?" he asked, his voice level.

Dragon stepped into the room, arms crossed, his posture heavy with weight Makros didn't appreciate.

Dragon's tone was cutting. "Dimitri's dead."

Makros froze.

Slowly he turned, gripping the glass more tightly. "Dead, how?"

Dragon's face remained impassive. "That's the part we don't know. But the killer has to be in this house."

Makros breathed sharply. His mind shut down to the inevitable response.

"Stefanos," he said quietly.

Dragon's face locked up, but he wouldn't neither deny nor confirm.

Makros' eyes hardened. "He killed Dimitri. To keep him quiet. To cover up his own trail with Vincenzo."

"You don't know that," Dragon said, voice even. "You're jumping to conclusions."

Makros sneered. "And you're sentimental. Blind."

Dragon's jaw tightened, but he didn't let his frustration turn to anger. "It's your call. You're the boss." With that, he turned and walked out.

Makros downed the rest of his drink. He was going to have a word with Stefanos. No more messing around.

He left the study, shutting the door behind him. He moved with purpose through the house. He first went into the lounge, where Stefanos usually had visitors, but it was empty except for some of the maids taking care of the previous day's mess. Then he went to the billiard room, where Stefanos liked to drink and play. But Stefanos was not there either.

His irritation mounted as he checked for him in the home gym. The room was vacant.

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