Page 43 of Made in Love and Blood

“Nico.”

He scowled. “Sorry. How’s the four hundred k?”

Salvatore’s brow jumped higher. “Okay, so he really doesn’t know about that, does he?”

Nico gave his warden a pointed look. “You mean my bank account? Fuck no. That had nothing to do with him anyway. Not a cent came or was made from my inheritance. I made that—”

“Hustling molly and coke through your cousin’s connection to Big Mike in New Jersey, right?” Salvatore interrupted.

Oh, okay.

Nico saw right where this would go.

He loosened up a bit, crossed his ankle onto his knee, and used the armrest as a spot to prop his elbow. His tilted head found his waiting hand, and he eyed Salvatore down.

“So what? I profited a few hundred thousand dealing drugs to university-aged students. Big deal. It wasn’t serious money, just play. And that’s exactly what I did with it. If not me, then someone else would’ve supplied. Plus, I know where that shit comes from and apparently, so do you. It’s clean, real drugs. Do you know how many of these kids are ODing on bad cuts?”

“Two things. One, I’m impressed at the profit. Second, that’s going to have to stop. At least, the way you were doing it. We’ll get back to that. Moving on.”

Salvatore tossed the folder and cards Nico’s way, keeping the one meant to be destroyed. He then reached for the second, and it’s accompanying key, fob and charms.

“Moving on?” Nico asked, confused. “What did you want to ask?”

“You answered it all. The bank account is explained, it matches what I know from the Secret Service information that came through. Simple. Moving on now.”

“Right,” he replied.

Salvatore held the keys up higher. “These are yours again.”

“Without restriction?”

The other man nodded once. “You can freely come and go, but you should know, if you are not back at the gates by three A.M., you will not be allowed inside the estate and if you are living on my property, you will be home at the time you are expected to be.”

Nico leaned forward to grab the offered keys. “Got it.”

Salvatore handed over the folder. “All paperwork for the vehicles. Something else I had to wait for from the Secret Service.”

He kept mentioning that.

Nico cringed. “So, you know?”

“I know.”

“They did get the livestream replay down within an hour,” Nico offered, hoping that helped whatever this might be. Salvatore did not look impressed. “I mean, it takes a second for a screenshot. A few for live recording a clip. How long did it take them to scrub it off the net?”

“Two weeks. Algorithms were built overnight for it, apparently.”

“Damn.”

“And even if it is gone,” Sal started to say.

Nico laughed. “It’s somewhere. Deep net. Dark web. Somewhere. People are downloading ZIP files right now of crazy shit that’s been on the internet, and I bet that clip of him tied to that bed, telling everyone he’s a rapist is at the very top.”

He swallowed the pride that edged his tone. “I should be sorry. I probably traumatized him like he did them.”

“You think?”

“Oh, definitely. Did you see it?”