Page 84 of The Pawn

He sets his drink down and leans back in his seat, studying me openly. “It’s an unnecessary risk. You could have coexisted.”

“No. That was never an option. I think you know that. Who gave Michael the money to pay me back? I haven’t heard any updates.”

“That’s because there aren’t any. Crypto. Is there a problem, Cassian? I’m getting the feeing there’s a problem.”

“Yeah, there is. Why didn’t Allegra shake your hand?”

He raises his eyebrows like that’s the last thing he was expecting. “I have no idea. I suppose you’d have to ask her. She’s in mourning and if she witnessed whatever you did in here…” He waves his hands around. “Well, I suppose she’s a little traumatized.”

“Let’s have a look at the contract.”

He sighs, pulls his chair closer and sets the folder on the desk. He opens it and begins to talk me through it while I read. It’s a clear-cut contract. Returns the deed to the Atlantic City property to the Blackstone’s.

“Any red flags? Anything in the fine print?” I’ll check it for myself, but I’m not ready for the next part just yet, because if he’s my enemy, what I do will be irreversible. If I’m wrong, well, I can’t be wrong.

“You won’t be handing them your first-born or anything,” he chuckles then must see my face. “Sorry, poor taste.”

I nod, tuck the contract back into the folder and decide I’ll read it over at home.

“Uncle,” I say, setting my arms on the desk. “Do you know where Malek Lombardi is?”

He studies me. He’s not a stupid man, my uncle. “Why would I know that? And if I did, why would I keep it from you?”

“I don’t know the answers to those questions. I wish I did.” I stand up. He follows suit.

“I saw your father earlier,” he says, smoothing down his tie.

“How was he?” I ask as I open the door and gesture for him to go ahead.

“He asked about Seth.”

That wounds me. He knows well that wounds me.

He waits for me to walk alongside him. I keep just a pace behind.

“And what did you answer?” I ask as we approach the front door.

“Oh, you know. Just talked like it was ten years ago.” He turns to me. A soldier opens the front door. I hear the soundof tires on the gravel as his driver pulls up. “You’ll tell me what’s on your mind soon, I hope, Cassian.”

He extends his hand.

I look at it. Am I being insane?

The driver sets the car to idle and steps out to open the back door for my uncle. He’s whistling a tune. One I recognize.

I close my eyes for a long, long minute.

“Severin has surveillance at the houses of all his men. Did you know that?” I say.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about or why I’d care,” he says, taking a step toward his waiting car.

I block him.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I ask.

The driver stops his whistling.

“It was you who sent the gun to a two-year-old child. To Seth’s child.”