Page 60 of Steal My Heart

“Of course. Let me run the comps and work up a detailed assessment before we come up with our valuation?—”

“Time is of the essence, and money is no object.” Because I want to dangle this new carrot in front of a certain little pickpocket.

“Understood.”

I end the call as we pull into the secured parking area. Mentally gearing up for battle, I pass through security and enter the visitation room. Fabien’s already there, in his mind waiting on Al.

His look of surprise can’t be hidden, which I find extremely satisfying. “Expecting someone else?” I sit across from him, making a show of looking around. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. Sibling manipulation, I meanvisitation, has come to an end.”

Fabien leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. “All that unchecked power has gone to your head, little brother.”

I place my hands on the table, leaning over. “And you think you’ll be the one to check me?”

“No need. Pride before the fall.”

“You speaking from experience?”

“Yes,” he admits, disarming me. Fabien Calvani has never admitted to a mistake his entire life.

“I’m going to ask you more time: did you send me a message?” I press.

“Still no clue what you’re talking about, but I received yours loud and clear.”

Fabien silently rises and stalks across the room. He and the corrections officer exchange something, and the secure doorbuzzesopen, with my brother disappearing.

An uneasy feeling settles over me as I exit the building. “Want my two cents?” Maks offers when we’re both in the vehicle, sandwiched between our security convoy.

My fingers tap a nervous melody on the arm rest.“Let’s hear it.”

“End him while you still have the upper hand. Some vows aren’t worth keeping.”

All the way back to the city, I gnaw over Maks’ words like gristle on a cheap steak. On the one hand, he has a hell of a point. But on the other, Al would never forgive me if she so much as thought I killed our brother.

God, I fucking hate Fabien for bringing her into the middle of this.

Arriving at the apartment in a pensive mood, I find Remi on the couch, hanging her head upside down and staring at the mannequin.

“You need a break.” Or maybe I’m the one who needs a break.

“But—”

She squeals as I scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder, carrying her up the stairs and onto the rooftop patio. “You have to stop doing that!” she cries as I place her in a chair.

Taking my seat, I grab Remi’s chair leg, scooting her closer. For whatever reason, it settles me having the little pickpocket nearby; absurd, considering it increases my chances of being robbed.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, eyeing me speculatively.

“Earlier, I met with my brother in prison. Things between us have always been…tense,” I admit.

“Alessandra said that he’s getting released soon,” she comments.

I sigh heavily. “A worry for another day. Do you feel confident about tomorrow night?”

“The belt clip is trickier than I thought,” she admits, worrying her bottom lip. “But maybe I can get the mayor to show me his phone somehow? I don’t know, ask for a selfie of the two of us, distract him, and then swipe it.”

“Distract him how?”

“By any means necessary,” she says.