The Don's Deadliest Obsession

”Ah, yes. We’re here concerning the death of the capo, Nico Moretti.”

I lift an eyebrow.

”Okay. And?”

”We have a few questions regarding the circumstances surrounding his death.”

”Then ask.”

The investigator studies me for a moment, perhaps expecting me to become nervous or demand to know why they are questioning me.

Instead, I wait.

My expression remains calm, my posture relaxed. I have spent enough years in this business to understand that the moment you allow another man to see your discomfort, he begins to believe he has power over you.

And I do not give away power. I own it.

”Your family was expected to join Mr Nico’s family through your sister’s marriage to Mr. Nico,” he begins.

”Correct.”

”Would you say you had a good relationship with the deceased?”

”Business was good.”

”That wasn’t quite what I asked.”

”And I answered the question I thought was relevant.”

His jaw tightens.

”You understand that Mr. Moretti’s death has raised several concerns,” he continues. ”Particularly because of the alliance between your families.”

I give a small shrug.

”You do realize my sister was supposed to marry Nico, don’t you? Our families j had profitable business arrangements, and his death has done nothing but complicate matters for myself and my family. What possible reason would I have to jeopardize that by killing him?”

The investigator doesn’t look away from me.

”Well, there are certain inconsistencies in the information we’ve gathered, and.....”

”If that’s all, I’d prefer you return when I’m with my lawyer.”

”Mr. Sanchez, we haven’t finished.....”

”And I haven’t agreed to spend my afternoon entertaining questions that could have been sent to my legal representative.”

His expression hardens.

”We’re conducting an investigation into a serious crime.”

”And I’m cooperating by allowing you into my office. Don’t mistake my courtesy for an obligation to answer every question you have without counsel present.”

The silence stretches between us.

I smile.

”Anything else?”

The man looks as though he wants to argue. His colleague, however, places a hand on his arm and gives a barely perceptible shake of his head.

Finally, the investigator exhales sharply and pushes his chair back.

”Very well. We’ll be in touch.”

”I look forward to it.”

He rises, motioning for the others to follow him.

They file toward the door, their shoes tapping against the floor.

I wait until the last man disappears before allowing my smile to fade.

Something about the visit bothers me.

Not the questions. I expected those eventually.

Nico’s death has left a hole in the underworld, and every ambitious man with a badge or a gun will want to know who is responsible. Nico’s family have enemies in every corner of the city, and the fact that Nico was supposed to become my brother-in-law m makes me an obvious person to investigate.

The door opens again and Jerry steps inside, his brows drawn together. He closes the door behind him and looks at me.

”What’s going on?”

”They’re here about Nico’s death.”

His mouth opens to speak but I lift a finger to my lips to silence him.

Jerry stops speaking immediately.

I push away from my desk and rise, circling it slowly. My gaze settles on the chair the investigator occupied.

I saw it happen.

One of the men had moved behind his colleague while the latter kept my attention with his questions. It was subtle, almost convincing. A hand slipping beneath the chair. A brief adjustment of his jacket. Nothing that would have attracted the attention of an ordinary man.

Unfortunately for him, I am no ordinary man.

I bend down and reach beneath the seat.

My fingers cl close around a small object.

A listening device.

I straighten and hold it between two fingers.

Jerry’s expression darkens.

”Those bastards.”

”Quiet.”

I drop the device onto the floor, then bring my heel down on it.

A sharp crunch breaks the silence as I grind the remains beneath my shoe until there is nothing left worth salvaging.

They thought t they were clever, they thought they could walk into my club, question me about a dead man, plant a listening device in my office, and leave with something useful.

I almost admire the confidence.

I return to my desk and wipe my shoe against the edge of the rug.

”Did you recognize any of them?” Jerry asks.

”No.”

”Should I have the boys look into it?”

”Already on it.”

I pick up my phone and scroll through my contacts, searching for the number of a man who owes me a considerable favor. If those investigators are legitimate, they will have records, superiors, and a trail I can follow. If they are not, I want to know who sent them and what they hope to find.

Either way, I refuse to sit around waiting for them to make their next move.

”Do you think they suspect you?” Jerry asks.

I glance up.

”Of course they suspect me. My sister was supposed to marry the man who died. I have the resources to kill him, the motive to benefit from his absence, and enough enemies to make a convincing suspect.”

”But you didn’t.....”

I give him a look.

He shuts his mouth.

The less he says aloud, the better.

Nico Moretti is dead. That much is undeniable.

What remains is the question of who will benefit from his death, who will inherit what he left behind, and who will be foolish enough to believe they can use the investigation to bring me down.

I have no intention of making their work easy.

”Get someone to check the club’s security footage,” I tell Jerry. ”I want thei their vehicle registrations, and every detail we can find about how they got here. Quietly. If they have someone watching the club, I don’t want that person realizing we’ve noticed.”

Jerry nods.

”And the listening device?”

”Find out where it was transmitting. If we can identify who was receiving the signal, we’ll have somewhere to start working from.”