Page 28 of Made in Love and Blood

“Right on time, actually,” Salvatore told Larkin as the man saddled beside him.

The two sat side by side on the bench.

“First, keys,” Larkin said, handing over a wrist-sized lanyard attached to various keychains, one fob, and two keys. “His Mercedes and the vintage Mustang are both at the estate in the garage.”

“And his Ducati?”

“Sitting out in the parking lot,” Larkin said, grinning. “Brought it here myself. That thing really goes.”

Salvatore shook his head, laughing. “Seriously?”

“I felt like I might meet God on the freeway. That’s all I’m saying.”

Salvatore nodded. “As long as he doesn’t meet God out there on the way home. Do you think he’s earned these back?”

“That’s up to you. You call the shots.”

“Give it to me straight,” Salvatore said.

Larkin lifted one shoulder. “Honestly, I think he needs something to do. He gets so bored down there by himself that he finds things to be entertained. What nineteen-year-old is scrubbing tile grout with a toothbrush at night?”

He gave Larkin a look who widened his arms as if to silently say, See?

“Yesterday,” Larkin added, “he turned his Zippo...you know that golden one he has, right?”

“Yeah.”

“He turned it into a burner phone by basically trading up with the guys until he got what he wanted. The Zippo was worth twenty bucks at a gas station.”

By guys, Larkin meant the estate’s security. Salvatore’s head swung sideways at the mention of a phone. Phones were still way off limits for Nico.

“No worries, he was just playing that stupid candy game. We checked.”

“You took the phone, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. We took the phone. Kinda shows he’s got a brain between those shoulders, though,” Larkin added quieter. “If you think about it. That was a Zippo. A lighter, Sal. The phone had to be worth a couple of hundred, at least. I bet he’d hustle a kid out of candy if someone said he couldn’t. Put something that’s got value into his hands and see what he could do with it.”

Salvatore glanced at the folder Larkin had brought into the stands with him. “What did you find out about his Miami mess?”

“That took some work.”

He asked for that information a month ago, and it never took Larkin this long to dig when needed. But...Salvatore had to know, and the boss didn’t seem very interested in having a conversation about his youngest son, or the private university that expelled him.

“Is it bad?” he asked.

Larkin didn’t reply.

“It is, isn’t it?”

Without a word, Larkin picked up the folder and handed it over. Sal opened the file. It took two-point-five seconds of scanning for him to slam it shut.

“Holy shit.”

“Yep,” Larkin muttered.

Salvatore opened the file again, flipping through to the second page where a few screen caps of a live stream that had been shown for a short while, according to the information included, were pasted. He could not blink enough times to let his mind process the images on the paper.

“He drugged, restrained, and then live streamed the President’s nephew admitting to drugging and date raping freshman on campus during frat parties?”