Akim let out a breath that sounded close to laughter. “You have a wife and a son. That’s new.”
I lifted my head to him. “You find it funny.”
“A little,” he admitted. “Should I trace her?”
I leaned back in the chair. “If you ask another stupid question, I will kill you.”
Akim took his phone. “I’ll retrieve the briefcase and have men handle her, together with anyone connected to her.”
He started toward the door. I remained seated, letting everything sink in. Such a clever woman. Claiming to be my wifeand having someone believe it meant she had a sharp mouth, a quick mind, and balls enough to pull it off. She is rare and dangerous.
“That’s boring,” I muttered, rubbing my jawline.
Akim paused at the doorway. “Sorry?”
“This is the first time someone has done that.”
“Yes.”
“Then we don’t rush it. She knew the place and the time. She was confident that the briefcase contained money. That means she didn’t improvise. Someone sent her, or she watched long enough to learn the pattern.”
Akim nodded. He already understood what that meant. Things like this didn’t happen by accident. Someone planned them very well.
She wasn’t working alone. Of that, I was certain. And that was where the fun started.
“Get me everything. Her name, where she lives, and who she talks to. Every damn detail,” I said. “I’ll handle her myself.” A slow smile pulled at my lips. After all, she’s my wife.
“On it.” He turned and left the office without another word.
Wife.
I had to admire the audacity. She didn’t just steal from me. She claimed me.
Eventually, I would bury her, her family, and anyone foolish enough to stand beside her. But first, I wanted to see the face of the woman who walked into my world and believed she could walk out again.
Chapter Three
Inna Grace
This wasn’t how I imaginedit. Stealing money was one thing. Walking through the night with a briefcase heavy enough to pull at my shoulder was another. And yet I kept heading home. My grip tightened around the handle as I walked, each step carrying me further from fixing what I had just done.
I should have been on my way back to Mr. Torres’s restaurant to admit what I’d done and hand over the briefcase before it turned into something worse. Instead, I was already near Amelia’s gate. I stopped, my mind running through everything that could go wrong.
The briefcase was heavy for a reason. It was packed with cash, the kind that only belonged to someone powerful enough to come looking for it. And if they came looking for it, they would come for my brother and me too.
Did Mr. Torres’ twin steal a kidney or something? This wasn’t a one-time payment. He has been paying it every month. No wonder we got fired. If the restaurant was bleeding money like this, it meant Mr. Torres wasn’t keeping anything for himself.
The anger from being fired had worn down into something closer to understanding. Mr. Torres didn’t have a choice. He was just trying to survive. Fuck his brother and the nerve he had.
A low sound made me freeze, every nerve in my body lighting up at once. I glanced down the street, where the pavement stretched dark and slick under the streetlights. The air was still heavy from the rain that had just passed. That was it. I needed to take the briefcase back and wipe my hands clean. Death felt safer than keeping it.
The sound came again, and I turned toward Amelia’s house. I stepped closer, peeking through the wooden gate, and my stomach dropped.
Amelia’s dog stood by the door, tail flicking as it nudged my brother. Cole was curled up on the doormat, a backpack beside him. A suitcase sat nearby, its zipper ripped open, flopped back as if someone had tossed it in frustration.
Panic hit all at once. I shoved the gate open and sprinted inside.
“Cole?” My voice cracked as I dodged discarded clothes, stepping closer. “Cole.”