Page 2 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
“Cristiano.”
That shut him up. “Yes?”
“Have you checked the books recently because it seems a certain someonehas been missing their payments.”
A brief pause, then, “No, I haven’t.”
“Well, Ivan Morovich is spending his rent in other ways.”
“Oh, god,” Cristiano groaned, “I told him to knock that shit off or you’d be chewin’ his ass out. I see he didn’t listen. Seems likeheneeds his ears cleaned.”
Mikko would’ve laughed if not for the stupid article sucking all the fun out of his evening. “Not only did he not listen, but journalists have latched ontoBubblegum’sproblems due to his negligence.”
“Don’t they have other people to harass besides us?”
“Apparently not.”
A dramatic sigh echoed through the phone’s speaker. “Send me the article,” Cristiano finally said.
“Get your glasses ready, the small text might give you a migraine.”
“I fear the contentwill do that all on its own, but thanks for the concern.”
A few tense seconds passed while Mikko waited patiently for his friend to read through the same brain melting words he had moments before. An antique clock, one his mom loved, ticked away on the wall across from his desk.
“They’re really gonna use a gum joke in this damn article,” Cristiano finally said, disbelief evident in his tone. “If this man hadn’t already been warned, I’d find this shit funny, but now…”
“Yeah,” Mikko drawled, “the watered down drinks and stolen wallet are all typical, but the fact that someone spilled about the gambling? That tells me Ivan’s got a rat in his midst.”
“And we’re sadly pest control.”
“Since the police are mostly in our pockets, I’m not too concerned about them, but the fact the article practically states that has me slightly worried,” Mikko finally answered. “Looks like we need to pay Ivan a visit.”
“Indeed. When will you be back in town?”
Looking at the multiple tabs pulled up on his computer screen—blatantly ignoring the news article still lingering there—Mikko contemplated the best approach.
“Tomorrow,” Mikko said, “I have a meeting with some investors in the city in the afternoon.”’
“Oh, he finally returns from his brooding castle.”
“That’s not why I came out here—”
“Sure, whatever you say. Did you at least run through the halls in a princess gown?”
“—and it’s hardly a castle.” Mikko talked over Cristiano.
“The square footage says differently. You of all people should know that.”
Sighing, Mikko knew there was no changing his friend’s mind. “Friday night it is then.”
“Works for me.” The sound of Cristiano tapping on his phone, likely inputting the meeting in his calendar, filled the small moment of silence. “Although, that’s a busy night for the club. You sure you wanna go then?”
“We have no choice.”
“As you wish, boss.”
With a playful eye roll, he hung up as Cristiano’s laugh resonated in his home office.
