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Maybe I’m fooling myself. Maybe this is love and maybe Liya is nestling under my skin, getting cozy inside my body. I said I never felt love before. How do I know that isn’t exactly what’s happening?
And if I am falling in love, then I’m in trouble.
A lotof trouble.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Felix
“How many?” I ask the kid standing across from my desk. “Spit it out, Lucio. I don’t have all fuckin’ day.”
Lucio scrolls through his phone and then scratches his head. He nods and then focuses on me, not quite meeting my gaze. “Five galleries, Don Cardona.”
“Five,” I repeat while reclining in the desk chair. “Five fuckin’ galleries. And how much was stolen?”
Lucio starts to speak when I wave my hand.
“Forget about it. Doesn’t matter. I need to know how this shit happened, Lucio. Tell me what thefuckwent wrong.”
He slouches over his phone and becomes a goddamn hunchback when he’s under pressure. I expect better.
I snap my fingers, regaining his attention. “Straighten your back. Be a goddamn man.”
“Yes, Don Cardona.”
“Now, tell me,” I say in a calmer voice while threading my fingers together. “What happened?”
“Daza was supposed to move the money to the Rose Gallery.”
I stare at him when he goes silent. While my lips twist with disappointment, he rushes to add, “But he didn’t show up.”
“And why the fuck didn’t he show up?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t answer his phone.” He shrugs, his suspenders digging into the white button-down shirt. He sets his phone down and rolls up his sleeves while grunting, “It was late, Don Cardona. I figured he fucked off to the bar.”
I snort. “Fucked off to the bar? You mean he fucked off toQueens.”
Lucio laughs and lifts his phone. “He likes that whorehouse. It’s nice.”
“It’s nice because it’smine, dumbass.”
“Yeah, so he likes it. Familiar territory. Good chicks. Good whiskey.”
I growl as I grab a handkerchief from my pocket and sweep it over my forehead. “Goddamn heat is about to kill me in this office. Did you call Donnie?”
He flicks sweat from his brow. “Yeah, I called Donnie.”
“And is he a fucking ghost or what? I don’t see him fixing anything in here.”
Lucio scrolls through his phone again. “I’ll text him, Don Cardona.”
“Don’t text. Call him. Wake him up. Splash him with water. Use jumper cables. I don’tcare. Just get him in here to fix the A/C before I water the damn carpet with sweat.”
“Yes, Don Cardona.”
I nod. “And get a hold of Daza, too. That many galleries getting hit aren’t a fuckin’ coincidence.”
It takes two minutes for Lucio to do what I’ve asked. Seeing him shout at Donnie to get the fuck over here makes me proud. I’ve instilled in him the right kind of urgency for the job, taught him to be proud but not too cocky. He’s a good kid. He gets it right when it’s important.
