Page 136 of The Wicked
“Come on, baby, let’s go see what Milk burned.” I reached towards him and outstretched my hand. He grabbed it, and I hurled him up as we headed to the kitchen.
“I haven’t even started yet!” I heard Milk’s voice close behind me.
“Nobody can do anything without me,” Dog muttered.
“You gotta admit. It was a dick move to deny everyone food.” Devil aimed the jab at him.
“I was hoping you guys would settle for the orgy option. All the food we need.”
“Get the fuck out.” Devil laughed.
I smiled from my position behind the counter.
We’re okay.
No.
We’re more than okay, even better than before we had the fight.
I knew in my heart that we’d always be okay.
My gaze traveled in Upper’s direction to find him bickering with Milk over a tray choice.
I hoped this new development was enough reason for him to want to stay.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Elio
I haven’t used the phone.
It had been three weeks since Angelo got it, and it remained sealed inside the box.
I couldn’t explain why I couldn’t open or activate the device. Probably because it had been over a decade since I last owned one, and a lot had changed within that time. I mostly didn’t have the zeal to own one or set it up.
I was not a Luddite, but I wouldn’t deny that it would sting to ask a smug Angelo or Casmiro for help in understanding how exactly the item worked.
But I knew I would have to break that barrier sooner or later. Aside from sending Gemma a text message, the device was necessary.
It could have been beneficial during the times when Zah—
I shook that thought out of my head, picked the box up from the table, and tucked it safely inside one of my drawers.
Work. Yes, focus on work.
I ignored the emails and went straight to the folders I’d gotten from the mayor of Turin; thanks to Edoardo’s over-trusting personality and his love for loyalty, Marino had gained control over the state affairs in Turin, and with that came a lot of brain work that I’d been putting off due to another project for Milan. I didn’t want to attend to both at the same time, but I was falling behind, losing focus on… essential things.
It was careless.
Ican’tbe careless.
It had been three weeks since that boardroom meeting, threeweeks since I’d last seen Street, though Angelo made sure I received updates on their progress.
A new painting had been released, and they had traveled to Tunisia to fetch it. According to the report, some other group had beaten them to it, but it was later confirmed that the painting was also a fake.
I wasn’t surprised.
There was obviously more to it. We were missing something, and my little artist was the key to finding that thing.
