“Nah, man. This wasn’t a safe full of money. It was a small one. A fireproof document safe. Probably held all their sensitive records like who they pay off, secret bank accounts, their second set of books. I bet there were things in there the Mafia didn’t want anyone to find. The Mob pissed off the wrong person this time. Let me tell you, someone has a vendetta against them. Maybe they plan on stealing all the Wolf Street Mob’s supporters, or maybe they’re out there with all those dirty secrets just waiting to unleash hell on Dante.”
A muscle twitched in the governor’s jaw.
The bartender handed us our martinis and the governor his whiskey. Brandon continued, slurring a little. “I mean, why else would he throw this big-ass party? He wants us to think everything’s business as usual, make out as if cracks aren’t appearing everywhere he looks.” Brandon gave a bitter laugh and spilled a little of his martini. He leaned in close to the governor. “If I were Dante Moretti, I wouldn’t be worried about the cracks. I’d be worried about the ten tons of dynamite that’s about to blow the lid off his entire operation. When everything in that safe is out in the open, it’ll be interesting days, hey?”
“Mm. Excuse me.” The governor made a tight-lipped smile before departing into the crowd and leaving his untouched whiskey at the bar.
Brandon leaned an elbow on the counter and tilted his head. “Was it something I said?”
“You were brilliant.” I smiled, cupped his jaw between my hands, and went in for an awkward kiss where our masks bumped.
He took a measured sip of the martini. “And so the game begins.”