Page 33 of A Cobbled Conspiracy
“Extensive,” Blake said carefully. “They weren’t gentle during the search. I have photos if you want to see them, but… it might be better to just move forward.”
“That bad?” Dominic’s voice was controlled, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. “Damn. I liked that apartment.”
“I’ve identified several secure housing options,” Blake continued, going to retrieve his tablet. “There’s a corporate penthouse in my building with excellent security, or a safe house in the suburbs that my firm uses for client protection. And there’s that place in the mountains you acquired last year. All three have been cleared by my security protocols.”
I already knew where this conversation was heading, and my spine straightened in preparation for battle. “And my apartment above the shop? It has a security system now.”
Dominic turned, his expression immediately sharpening. “But no controlled access, and windows that face a public street.”
Blake’s tone carried the kind of careful patience usually reserved for explaining things to children. “After everything that’s happened, with organized crime connections and federal investigations, it’s not safe.”
“It’s already been targeted once before,” Dominic said, reminding me of the night the brick was tossed through the display window. The night he took my virginity, only to vanish without explanation three days later.
“It’s been my family’s home for five generations,” I said quietly. “My great-great-grandfathers renovated it when they combined their businesses. My grandfather was born there. It’s not just where I live—it’s who I am.”
Dominic moved to stand beside me, his coffee forgotten. “And I want you somewhere I know you’ll be protected,” he said, alpha authority creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent five weeks in a concrete box knowing you were in danger and being completely helpless to protect you. I can’t do that again.”
“The corporate apartment in my building is perfect,” Blake continued, his business executive mindset taking over. “Twenty-fourth floor, controlled access, security cameras in all common areas. You’ll both be safe there.”
“Speaking of the shop,” I said, changing tactics, “I need to reopen it immediately. Victor’s commission requires my grandfather’s tools and records, and Penny and I are hemorrhaging money every day we stay closed.”
Both Blake and Dominic’s expressions shifted to alarm. “No,” Dominic said immediately. “It’s not safe to?—”
“I can’t work from this penthouse,” I interrupted. “The commission requires specific equipment, historical records, even the original shoe forms from my grandfather’s collection. Everything I need is in the shop basement.”
Blake looked uncomfortable. “We could have the materials moved?—”
“You want to move a century’s worth of cobbling tools and records to this apartment? Some of those forms are hand-carved and irreplaceable.” I shook my head.
“Morning, everyone!” Penny appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing patterned pajamas that were probably authentic 1960's gents and sporting impressive bedhead, his pink hair sticking up at odd angles.
“Did someone say something about reopening the shops?” He mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee machine.
“We’re losing money every day,” I said. “It’s not sustainable.”
Penny prepared his coffee with the careful movements of someone not fully awake. “With our regular customers going elsewhere, we’re looking at significant daily losses.”
“Rent still needs to be paid, utilities, insurance,” I continued. “The longer we stay away, the harder it’ll be to catch up.”
Blake and Dominic exchanged a look.
“What if we covered your expenses?” Dominic offered immediately. “Both shops, all overhead costs, until this situation resolves.”
“Absolutely,” Blake agreed. “You shouldn’t have to worry about money on top of everything else.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “Absolutely not.”
Penny looked equally offended. “We’re not charity cases. These are our businesses, our livelihoods.”
“It’s not charity,” Blake said carefully. “It’s practical support during an extraordinary situation?—”
“And you’re my mate,” Dominic said, his voice carrying that particular alpha timbre that made my spine straighten. “It’s not charity.”
“Maybe not for Leo,” Penny said, crossing his arms, “but it would be for me. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Blake, but I don’t want anyone to pay my way when I’m perfectly capable of working.”
“It’s exactly charity,” I added, backing up my best friend. “And it’s not happening. Blake, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I’m not going to become anyone’s dependent.”
My eyes slid to Dominic, jaw tightening as our gazes locked in silent confrontation. “Even my mate’s.”