Page 109 of Steal My Heart
My heart comes to a screeching stop. “What do you mean?”
“I met the man once at visitation. Fabien called his cellmate Cornbread. When I asked Fabien why, when it was just the two of us, he said it’s a joke. The guy was cornbread Cosa Nostra. Like a wannabe southern mobster that’s not Italian.”
Maks appears in the doorway, and I ask him, “What’s the name of Fabien’s cellmate?”
He holds up his hands. “All his files are at the apartment.”
I grab my sister by the shoulders. “Are you lying to me?”
“I swear it on my life,” she says.
With a frustrated growl, I release her and am now on my phone with Nic. “Put a pause on the shipment order I called in the other day.”
“But boss, the wheels are already in motion.”
“Get them out of motion.”
“It’s not that easy. Our contacts on the inside are already activated. I’ll try, but I might be too late.”
“Then do what you can.”
Ending the call, I turn to my sister. “If our brother is truly innocent, then let’s hope he sleeps with one eye open.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Remi
The study clears out, save for Angelo. He takes a seat on the couch, placing his head in his hands.
I walk to the drink cart, pouring him a shot of whiskey. Crossing the room, I take a seat beside him, offering it.
He accepts the glass with a guarded look.
“I showed you mine; it’s time to show me yours,” I tell him gently.
He rolls the amber liquid in the glass, lost in thought. “Growing up, Fabien was my tormentor. He was bigger. He was stronger. And he loved power. A horrid combination for someone like me. A wet dream for a bully like him.” Angelo tips back the glass before placing it on the table. “Fabien loved to rub in the fact that one day he’d be my boss. I’d resigned myself to that fate, but then something happened that changed the trajectory of my life.”
Angelo
Seventeen years old
My highlighter moves across the passage of my textbook. Exams are a month away, but I like to be prepared.
The wall begins rattling with the obnoxious bass of my brother’s stereo. Annoyance flashes through me as I bang on our shared wall. “I’m trying to study.”
He turns up the volume.
I slam my book shut with a frustrated sigh, tucking it underneath my arm and stalking out of my room.
Only to run into Fabien.
“What was that?” He gets in my face.
“I said I’m trying to study.”
The book under my arm gets smacked and goes skidding down the hall. “What now, smart guy?”
“Aren’t you a little too old for the bully routine?” I say in a bored tone, trying to cover for my pounding heart.
