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“What do you mean?” Sofia asks.
“There isn’t an extradition agreement between Russia and the United States—”
“There isn’t?”
“No.”
“Just great.” Sofia’s brow puckers with annoyance, matching her tone.
“It would be difficult to force the Russians to extradite Brad’s wife. It’s the same for the money. We can’t force her to hand it over without solid proof she was Brad’s partner in crime or at the very least, she knows of the origin of the money. I’m sure in Russia anyone can hide behind plausible deniability. And even then, it would cost an obscene amount of money for us to go after her.”
A long silence ensues.
“Does the police know who killed Brad?” Sofia asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet. They found him in an alley last night. He bled to death from his knife wounds.”
“God!” Sofia gasps.
“Jesus,” Cassie mumbles.
“There were other horrific injuries to his body, but I’ll spare you,” I say.
“It could’ve been his wife so she could get her hands on the money.” Cassie says. “What if she hired a hitman? With Brad out of the picture, she doesn’t have to share. She’s a rich widow. That’s motivation.”
“Or it could have been any of the long list of people Brad conned,” I say. “We don’t know how he got his hands on the eight million dollars.”
Sofia crosses her arms over her chest. “A part of me wants to say he won, but he’s six feet under.”
“He didn’t win,” Cassie says, “neither did all the people he defrauded. His Russian wife, on the other hand, won the jackpot.” Sarcasm drips from her words.
A sardonic smile touches Sofia’s lips. “Case closed. Brad’s Russian wife gets to enjoy the fruit of the labor of people who trusted her asshole husband.” Resentment pours off her in waves.
“Sadly, yes.” My hand balls into a fist. “Greed is this second of the seven deadly sins. Brad Hyler paid with his life. If his wife’s hands are dirty… karma is a bitch. She’ll get what’s coming to her.”
Chapter 44
Bryce
Two months later
I lift my champagne flute.
Sofia does the same.
“Here’s to me returning to my roots!” I say.
“Here’s to you moving back to NYC!” Sofia cheers. “And here’s to your new kickass Upper East Side penthouse! And here’s to my first experience of visiting a Fifth Avenue luxury apartment, with a stunning view of Central Park!”
“After a month of renovations, I can finally call this place, home.”
“I hope you’re okay if I come visit often.”
I chuckle. “The door is always open for you.”
“I’ll take you up on that, Mr. Billionaire.”
“I’ll count on it,” I say. “But we’re not done with the cheers.”
