Page 89 of His Good Girl
“Clean up at my apartment,” I murmur when the phone is answered on the other end. There’s no need to give my address as I hang up. He knows it’s me. He knows where I live.
Glad that Rose wasn’t here to witness any of this, I’m forced into activity when there is a soft knock on the door. Considering that this building is secured at the front, there seems to be enough people appearing out of the cracks lately. That needs looking into immediately, especially with Serena moving in here, which I haven’t discussed with her yet, but will, once we’ve dealt with this mess, and then me having to tell her that her father is dead as well.
“What a fucking shitshow,” I mutter as there is another knock.
“Logan? It’s Viktor Di’Castello.”
Biting back my laugh, as if I didn’t know which Viktor, I cross over and open the door.
“Shots fired?”
“Come in.”
He steps into the apartment, followed by Francesca.
“How did you know?”
“Your downstairs neighbor called the police, but we took care of it.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” I mumble, having not even considered that. I’m too used to things being less loud. It’s why I prefer a knife over a gun. Also, it’s more personal, and I like getting my hands dirty.
He shrugs.
“Where is Serena?” Francesca asks.
Pointing upwards, she nods and strides over to the stairs. Maybe Fran’s eccentric personality is just what Serena needs right now.
“Can I ask what happened?” Viktor asks, striding over to the dead body that Francesca ignores and steps over before she disappears up the stairs.
“That is apparently Shelley Thorpe’s twin, Kelly.”
Viktor gives me a surprised look before turning back to the body. “You don’t say?”
“Hmm.”
“Did you know?”
“Did I fuck. This was news to me. How come Solitaire didn’t know? She was recruited. Surely it would’ve come up.”
“No.”
Heaving a sigh, I say, “She said that she and Shelley always did this, and I had no idea the depth of the cover. I’m guessing it was their intention to infiltrate Solitaire as one woman but have two at their disposal.”
“Genius, really,” Viktor comments. “Know any more twins? I might have a use for them.”
“No,” I grit out.
“Hmm, well,” he says, straightening up from his investigation and crossing over to open the door to the cleaner.
We don’t make eye contact. I have no idea who it is or what he looks like under the mask.
“Move her first,” I murmur. “Serena doesn’t need to see this.”
Viktor nods to the cleaner, who looks to him for confirmation.
“Coffee?” Viktor asks.
“Sure.”
