Page 27 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
I take a deep breath. It’s no use putting off the inevitable. I meet Edgerton in the living room, and Grayson wasn’t kidding. He is back with a very small box indeed.
“I thought you were at least going to bring me clothes,” I say, taking the cardboard box from him.
“The contents of your apartment were destroyed. I believe these things were left untouched as a warning.”
Wolfe joins us, holding up a garment bag. “You and I are close enough in size, so I’ve taken the liberty of lending you a few articles of clothing, along with a suit. Grayson will take your measurements for the alteration, and it should be ready by morning.”
I’m about an inch shorter than he is, and my shoulders are slightly broader, but it should work out. “Thank you.”
He gives me a shy nod and steps back, then seems to disagree with himself and rocks forward once more.
Edgerton’s expression is unreadable as he turns to Wolfe. “You need anything from me?”
Wolfe shakes his head, and Edgerton spins on his heel, disappearing into the foyer.
I sit on one of the comfortable couches, placing the small cardboard box on the large tufted ottoman in front of me. After staring at it for a solid minute, I pick it up and peel back the simple strip of Scotch tape. When I see the contents, I wish I’d kept it closed.
The first item is a framed picture of my nonna. Not a scratch on it. The next object isn’t from my apartment at all. It’s a Christmas ornament, a round clay imprint of my foot taken when I was a newborn. As far as I know, that’s the only memento my father ever had of me. The final item, loose at the bottom of the box, makes my blood run cold.
It’s a double-edged razor blade, thin and sharp as fuck. I’ve seen what my father can do with a razor blade like this one, and the message is clear. I’m no longer part of the family, and if I talk, he’ll take my tongue, using this razor blade to do it. Well, that, or he’s suggesting I kill myself now.
I have a feeling he doesn’t care either way.
I shift and startle at Wolfe’s presence in front of me, having forgotten him entirely.
“Sorry,” he says, doing the step-back-rock-forward thing again, the defiant tilt of his chin gone.
I lean my forearms on my thighs and rub my hands over my face. “You ever see a rattlesnake in person, Wolfe?”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “No, but—”
“I have. I have a cousin in Arizona who owns a lot of property in the desert. Something to do with windmills. Anyway, during a break from college, I spent a month or so with him in the desert. Maintaining these big goddamn windmills.”
“I don’t—”
I hold up my finger, and he shuts his mouth. “I was walking back to my truck one afternoon, and it was hot as balls. Thought I was gonna die of heatstroke. And there on the little pathway between me and my cousin’s work truck was a big fuckin’ rattlesnake.”
I fit my hands together in a circle. “Motherfucker was over six feet long and his body was this thick. And I tell you, I’ve never heard a sound more frightening than that fucking rattle. It’s not like a kid’s rattle at all. It’s low. Menacing. And all the while, the snake’s tracking you with his body. With that fucking arrow-shaped head. You don’t even need to see the damn fangs to know that you’re in the presence of death itself.”
“What did you do?”
“I backed up and walked the hell around that truck, crawled in from the other side, and I got the fuck outta there. Got myself on a plane the next day and came back to Brooklyn, where shit makes sense.”
“What does this—”
I pick up the small box and shake it, careful not to overly disturb its contents. Just enough to approximate that sound that still haunts my dreams. “You stirred up a whole goddamn nest of rattlesnakes. This is just the first shot across the bow. That first low rattle. They don’t call my father the Viper of Brooklyn for nothing.”
“So, they’re trying to warn us off,” he says, his shoulders settling out of his ears. “Fine. We’ll make a path around them.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work. A real rattlesnake doesn’t want anything to do with people, and if a person gives them their space, everyone’s cool. Rattlesnakes of the human variety are a different kind of problem altogether.”
Wolfe works his jaw, the tendons in his neck straining. After a silent beat, he nods to himself. “Edgerton will do everything in his power to track down any threats. Of that, I am certain.”
I let out a deep breath and think about what my uncle would tell me right now. He’d smack me upside the head and tell me to keep my head in the game, not let my imagination run wild.
Think ahead, nipote. Pick apart their moves and counter moves. Note the areas of weakness and exploit them.
No bones about it. I’ve made an enemy of my father. There’s no coming back from protecting Wolfe, even if doing so saved my family from the consequences of killing a billionaire.
