Page 10 of No Longer Mine (Rags & Riches #2)

Chapter Eight

Dimitri

The entire safe was empty. I knew if the thief came back, she would go for it first. None of the other safes and hidden places had been messed with in my home.

It was almost too easy. I’d removed the flash drive and replaced it with random items of jewelry that I didn’t care for.

The flash drive held all of my pictures of Cassie and me together.

I told Benson to get rid of her digitally, but on the flash drive? That was where she was immortal.

I leaned back in my chair, running my fingers over the edge of my desk, where the real safe was hidden beneath the floorboards. That flash drive? The one that actually mattered?

Tucked away, secure.

Everything else, like most of my money, was in a vault on the other side of Manhattan. I wasn’t stupid enough to keep all of my valuables in one place. I also didn’t care that any of that jewelry went missing.

Either way, I doubted she’d be back.

Still, I wasn’t stupid enough to get comfortable.

Benson was fuming when I called him.

“She got through again?” His voice was sharp, his irritation barely contained.

“She did.”

“You’re too calm about this.”

I smirked as I sipped my coffee. “I could’ve called the cops. Could’ve made a massive spectacle out of the whole thing.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Because I don’t care about the jewelry.” I leaned back in my chair again and stretched lazily. “And, honestly? I’m more curious than anything else.”

Benson let out a sharp breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I saw her.”

That was the part that made this whole thing interesting.

Because for the life of me, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

The way she moved. The way she didn’t panic when I grabbed her. The way her eyes locked onto mine before she disappeared into the night, like she had all the time in the world.

She’d made a mistake, though. One I was willing to bet she hadn’t made before.

She’d let me see her.

And I wasn’t the type to let something like that go.

Benson sighed, his fingers flying across his keyboard on the other end of the call. “I’ll dig deeper, see if I can track her movements from last night.”

“You won’t find anything.”

“You don’t know that.”

“She’s good.” I tapped a finger against the desk. “But we both know she’s not perfect.”

Silence.

Then, Benson cursed under his breath. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

I grinned to myself. “Most excitement I’ve had in months.”

Before Benson could argue, my phone dinged—the familiar chime of my security system finally kicking back in. Someone was at my front door.

I rolled my head on my shoulders and stood, stretching the tension from my spine as I made my way toward the stairs. I ended the call with Benson. We would catch up later.

Don got to the door before I even made it halfway.

It was still strange having someone underfoot at all times, but I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. Don wasn’t like most people—I didn’t have to entertain him and didn’t have to make small talk. He wasn’t here to impress me, and that made him more tolerable than most.

He was good company in the way a sharp blade was—silent, efficient, and deadly when necessary.

Don liked his job. And I respected that.

More than that—he was useful.

He was like me—calculated, with little tolerance for bullshit.

I descended the stairs at an easy pace, my fingers tapping absently against the railing.

Whoever was at my door had shit timing.

Or, depending on who it was, maybe their timing was perfect.

Don pulled the door open, his broad frame blocking my view of the visitor.

I watched him carefully, noting the subtle shift in his stance, the way his shoulders tensed just slightly.

A familiar voice cut through the quiet.

“You have a maid now?”

Griffin.

My youngest brother shoved past Don without waiting for an invitation.

Don shot me a questioning glance, his fingers twitching like he was just waiting for the order to detain my unruly sibling. I shook my head slightly, and though he didn’t look convinced, he backed off, retreating to the kitchen where his laptop waited.

Don made himself at home here, and I didn’t mind it. If anything, it was necessary to have someone like him hanging around. Even if it meant he’d likely get his hands on the thief before I could.

And I so desperately wanted to be the one to catch her. If she even came back.

I closed the door and turned to Griffin, who was already rummaging through my kitchen like he lived here.

“Don is my security detail and my driver,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “Treat him with respect, or I’ll have him throw you out onto your ass.”

Don smirked from his seat, clearly entertained by the threat. And honestly? I knew we’d both enjoy it.

Griffin held up his hands in surrender. “Duly noted.”

He wasn’t a fighter. Never had been. Griffin was a lover, a hopeless romantic who still believed in fairy tales despite being raised in this family. Father used to say it was a good thing Griffin wasn’t in line for the Cristof fortune—he was too soft, too naive.

Most of the time, I would have agreed. But even I knew we needed his brand of recklessness to keep the rest of us from going insane.

I folded my arms, watching as he rifled through my fridge. “What do you want, Griffin?”

He scowled over his shoulder. “Really? That’s it?”

I remained silent.

With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled open the fridge door fully and leaned inside. “Where’s your beer?”

My mouth almost watered at the thought. I wanted a beer. Fuck, I needed a beer. But I had no time for indulgences.

“I don’t keep it in the house anymore.”

Griffin’s head snapped up. He slammed the fridge door shut, his scowl deepening. “What the fuck?”

I spread my hands in a nonchalant shrug.

He shook his head, looking at me like I was some stranger standing in his brother’s place. “I knew this running-for-councilman bullshit was a lie. And I was right. You’re changing—just like everyone else.”

I arched a brow. “Changing?”

“Ace doesn’t answer my calls anymore,” he whined. “Alexei’s suddenly a respectable businessman—” He spat the last part like it offended him. “And now you—you, of all people—are running for office?”

I tilted my head slightly, unimpressed. “And what does that have to do with me?”

Griffin exhaled sharply, and to my complete irritation, his eyes watered slightly.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I didn’t have the patience for tears today.

“Where’s the psychopath we all know and are somewhat afraid of?” His voice cracked, frustration laced between the words. “Why are you running for office? Why is everything changing?”

In three calculated steps, I was in front of him, close enough that he had to tilt his chin up to meet my eyes.

He flinched—just slightly. But enough.

“I am still the psychopath,” I said, voice dropping low enough to make the air between us feel razor-thin. “But I’ve had to bury him a little deeper than usual.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

I leaned in closer, watching his pupils shrink under the weight of my stare. “I have big plans for this family, Griffin. And you’re either going to be on the right side of it—” I paused just long enough to let the words sink in, “—or you’re going to go down with the rest of them.”

A tense silence settled between us.

Griffin straightened, squaring his shoulders like he wanted to act unbothered. But I knew him better. I saw the nerves working beneath his skin, the way his fingers twitched at his sides.

“Yes,” he said, voice tight. “I understand.”

“Good.” I cracked my knuckles, exhaling as I let some of the tension bleed from my stance. “I don’t have time for games, bullshit, or debauchery.”

Griffin’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing.

He knew this wasn’t a conversation. It was a warning. If he was smart, he would listen and obey it.

“Mom wants us all to go to dinner next weekend—upstate.”

Griffin was the only one who called her mom.

I rubbed my temples. I had two fundraisers to attend.

At this point, I wondered how New York City could have so many.

I was getting tired of donating money to causes I didn’t really care about.

If I wanted to give, I wanted it to be something that meant something to me. But alas, I had to keep up appearances.

“I have two fundraisers to attend.” I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay at home for once.

Griffin chewed on his bottom lip, and I realized that this was why he came here all along. He was our mother’s lackey.

“You gonna come to dinner at the estate?” he asked, voice quieter now.

I exhaled sharply. “Do I have a choice?”

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nope.”

Fucking fantastic.