Page 76 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

“What are we waiting for?” says another. “Let’s kill him.”

I sink a little into the chair. Part of me wants to meet my father first, at least hear him out, but why should I give him the time of day when he abandoned me and my mom?

These men are right. He needs to be killed before any more innocent people pay the price.

Salvatore turns to me. “Do you remember the license plate for the black sedan?”

I scribble it down on the paper, tearing the sheet off the pad, sliding it over.

“Good,” says Salvatore, flipping the page around. “I want everyone to keep their eyes out for this license plate. In the meantime, I need us on guard. Lorenzo—monitor our bank accounts.”

I scribble down meeting notes, keeping my eye on Salvatore as he speaks to his men with conviction.

“Robert—hire guards to watch the Moretti Global building. Cops are still sniffing. I need the guards to be careful.”

“The police will be wrapping this up in a few days, moving onto something bigger,” says the man at the far end of the table, helping himself to coffee. “Cases turn cold after a few days. We shouldn’t worry about the police too much.”

I frown, staring at the coffee pot as the man pours himself a cup, thinking about Aunt Viv. “I think the police might actually solve this case.”

A few of the men exchange a look. “Okay, optimism.”

Salvatore flashes them a scolding glare. “Mock my assistant again and I’ll put you on the Reaper’s radar myself.” He turns and faces me. “Please speak, Miss Bennett.”

Back to being his assistant now that we have company?

“The Crows were broken up by the police once before. If they strip-search the memorial attackers, find the tattoos, they’ll recognize the markings and be able to dismantle them again.”

Deep lines appear between Salvatore’s brows as he watches me. “The Crows were never broken up. Who told you this information?”

There it is—confirmation that Aunt Viv has been lying.

And still, I choose to cover for her.

“Um, the journalist I told you about.”

“Then he was lying. The Crows faded out when their leader died.” Salvatore sips coffee, setting the empty espresso cup down on the table. “We are done here, gentleman. If you hear any new information, report to me immediately.”

I finish scribbling down notes as the men disperse. Salvatore sees them out, Robert the last to leave.

“You say Ophelia is staying here as a guest?” I overhear him say to Salvatore

“Yes.”

“Funny. The guest bedroom is empty.”

I watch Robert flash his cousin a glare before taking his leave.

Salvatore grinds his jaw, staring into space as the door slams shut.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“There is no such thing as paradise.”

I pick up Salvatore’s empty cup, staring at the grains of coffee left at the bottom. Aunt Viv might be good at reading coffee granules, but she’s terrible at telling me the truth.

“Add less water next time,” says Salvatore, striding over to the table. “I like my coffee strong, same as my women.”

“Right, because there are multiple of those.”