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Dimi: The girl doesn’t want a handout, so you automatically assume she’s up to no good. Paranoid much?

Kas: Not paranoid. Thorough.

Mak: You need to get laid.

Me: Enough already. Six o’clock at Quantum. Bring your appetite.

I slid the phone back into the inside pocket of my suit jacket, and folded my arms over my chest. Five minutes went by. The whole time I could feel Daria’s eyes boring a hole in the side of my head, but she kept her mouth shut. Finally, I’d had enough of her stares and barked, “What?”

“Did you tell her?”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Did you tell Pru that you hired a private physical therapist?”

“No. I thought I’d surprise her.”

She snickered, “It’s your funeral.”

Changing the subject, I asked, “Have you heard from your ex since you moved?”

Daria’s shoulders drooped. A clear answer. The Turner sisters had fire, though it was the younger of the two who gave me the most grief. Within three days of arriving in Atlantic City, she confronted me about Alexsei. Daria fought me tooth and nail over having a bodyguard since the hospital she’d be working at had its own security. I relented. A week later, she came to me again, citing the fact I controlled the city as the reason she didn’t need Alexsei at all. I let her think she’d won, but little did she know, I merely changed things up. I switched Alexsei out for someone she’d never met and instructed him to keep a low profile. Maybe that was a mistake.

“He texted. I blocked his number, but he started texting from a different number.”

“I’ll have Dimi get you a new phone.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Does your sister know?”

“No.”

“Dimi will get you a new phone.”

Even though my tone was soft, my meaning wasn’t. I wasn’t taking no for an answer. Daria picked up on the implied ultimatum. Rather than the expected defeat, fire lit inside her hazel eyes.

“You’re ruthless, Gangster. I don’t think I’m on Team Zak anymore.”

Quantum was my pride and joy. Sleek black walls surrounded an open-concept dining area where two fully functioning kitchens were on display. Within days of the opening, the kitchens had begun a nightly competition with each other to see who received the highest scores from the guests. The manager came to me with the idea, and we ran with it. The chefs became the entertainment. “Elevated elegance” was what the first restaurant critic dubbed it in his article. With those words, the waitlist to get a table at Quantum went from two weeks to two months.

Everyone arrived on time, even Kas, despite his earlier reluctance. Pru sat in her wheelchair on my right, with Daria next to her. My brothers filled in the chairs across from us with Mak positioning himself so the entire room was in view. Once we were settled, Ellen––one of two servers I asked to work this evening––presented a bottle of Opus One for my approval. It was a bold, Bordeaux-style blend from a vineyard in Napa Valley. A single bottle ran for just shy of five hundred bucks.

I gave a slight nod. “Good choice, Ellen. Thank you.”

“Thank you for doing this, Zak,” Pru said softly.

“If she’s as good as you say, I’ll be the one thanking you.”

The offer to Lennon hadn’t been made out of the blue. One of the head chefs would be moving out of the country soon with her new husband. She’d given us three months to fill the position and train her replacement. When I read Pru’s letter, I immediately began investigating the woman. Like Kas, I had trust issues, though mine didn’t run nearly as deep. No one except Mak and I knew the results of her background check, not even Kas. She had a rough life, that was all anyone needed to know unless she chose to disclose her past. Fate had brought her into Pru’s life for a reason. Who was I to stand in the way? Besides, she earned my respect when she insisted on interviewing for the job.

A three-course meal for six could be a daunting task for one person to handle, but from what I could see, the future head chef was the epitome of grace under pressure. She hadn’t so much as blinked when Pru introduced everyone at the table. In fact, Lennon’s nervousness only showed when she came out to introduce the first course.

“Good evening.” Her voice wobbled faintly as she spoke. “To start, you have fresh sea scallops drizzled with a lime vinaigrette and avocado mash. Enjoy.”

“You sure were holding back at the rehab, Lennon,” Pru teased.

“Holy crap, this looks amazing,” Daria gushed.