Page 44

Story: Novo

"He's a natural," Maria said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Been helping all morning."
I ruffled Matty's hair, noting how relaxed he seemed. "Having fun?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "Maria showed me how to crack eggs without getting shells in the batter. And Ellie let me use the mixer all by myself."
"Very impressive," I said, accepting the cupcake he thrust into my hands. I took a bite, making an exaggerated sound of appreciation that made him giggle. "Delicious."
Daisy appeared from the pantry, her arms full of baking supplies. "Oh good, you're back. We were just about to start on cookies." She gave me a meaningful look. "Jono's in the office. Wants a word when you get a chance."
I nodded, understanding her subtle message. "I'll go see him after I finish this masterpiece," I said, taking another bite of cupcake.
Matty beamed at the praise, then turned back to his frosting with renewed concentration. I watched him for a moment, the contrast between this happy, flour-dusted young man andCoombes's dismissive description making my chest ache with anger.
"I'll be right back, little one," I promised, touching his shoulder gently. "You keep helping Maria. I know you'll make the best cookies."
Matty nodded seriously. "I'm gonna make dinosaur ones if Maria has the right cutters."
"I'm sure she'll find something," I assured him before making my way to Jono's office.
I found my president behind his desk, papers spread out before him, his expression grim. He looked up when I entered, gesturing for me to close the door.
"You met with Coombes," he said. Not a question.
"He found me at The Last Keg," I confirmed, dropping into the chair across from him. "Offered me seven hundred and fifty thousand to divorce Matty and walk away."
Jono's eyebrows shot up. "That's a lot of cash."
"He's desperate," I said, leaning forward. "I played along, told him I'd consider it. Gave us a week's breathing room."
"Smart," Jono nodded. "Digger's been digging deeper into his finances. It's worse than we thought."
"How bad?"
Jono pushed a folder across the desk. "He's been systematically draining not just Matty's trust, but several other accounts connected to the Coombes estate. We're talking at least twelve million over the past five years."
I let out a low whistle, flipping through the documents. "Embezzlement on top of attempted murder."
"And that's not all," Jono continued, his voice hardening. "We found a connection between Coombes and Degrassi that goes back years. They were involved in some real estate deals together—deals that look suspiciously like money laundering fronts."
"So Coombes wasn't just setting Matty up with an abuser," I growled. "He was bringing Degrassi into the family business."
"Looks that way," Jono agreed. "If Matty had married Degrassi, they would have had complete control over the trust fund and could have drained it legally."
I closed the folder, disgust churning in my gut. "Did you get eyes on Coombes after he left the bar?"
"Tex is tailing him. So far he's just headed back to his estate." Jono leaned back in his chair. "What's your play here, Novo? You stringing Coombes along to get evidence on him?" he huffed. "I'm sure you've noticed we haven't had any cops wanting any sort of statement about the accident with the car."
I grunted. "That, and keeping him from making another move on Matty while we build our case." I hesitated, then added, "There's something else. When we talked, he mentioned Matty's 'childish episodes.' He knew about his Little side and talked about it like it was something shameful."
Jono's face darkened. "Bastard."
"Yeah," I agreed, the memory reigniting my anger. "The way he talked about Matty... like he was a burden, a problem, but what I want to know is how did he know?"
"How is Matty doing?" Jono asked, his voice softening slightly, obviously not having an answer to my question.
"Better than you'd expect," I admitted. "The Little space seems to be protecting him from the full impact of what's happened. He's happy baking cupcakes with the old ladies, coloring dinosaurs, playing with his stuffies." I ran a hand over my beard. "Bolt says it's a coping mechanism."
"And when he comes out of it?"