I know Uncle Oran said to let Josh do it, but I already started on the purchase agreements, and we need them finished before we can move into Phase Two of the South Shore Project. That’s my family’s number one priority right now, and the Gallos’ too. We’ve sunk everything we have into it. I can’t risk an idiot like Josh fucking it up.

* * *

8

Raylan

I drive Riona back over to the Griffins’ modern mansion on the Gold Coast. It’s a palace of glass and steel, a monument to how their family has grown and flourished in Chicago.

As we enter the huge, bright kitchen, I remember that this is where Riona and I first met. I glance over at her to see if she’s thinking the same thing. I catch her eye, making a little tinge of pink appear on her pale cheeks.

I don’t know why I get such a kick from getting a rise out of her. I guess it’s because she’s so determined to keep that perfectly composed demeanor at all times. It’s like she’s setting up a challenge for me. And I’ve always been one to rise to a challenge.

Imogen Griffin is just finishing her breakfast. She’s already dressed for the day in one of those classy business-style sheath dresses, her blonde bob as smooth and sleek as glass.

Riona and her mother look a lot alike. Riona’s a little taller, with red hair instead of blonde. But looking at Imogen is like looking twenty or thirty years into Riona’s future—proof of how gracefully she’ll age. Like an iconic actress who only seems to become more regal with time.

I could have guessed that without ever seeing Imogen, though—Riona’s too stubborn to ever let herself look less than her best.

Imogen comes over to Riona at once and kisses her on the cheek.

“How are you, love?” she says. Imogen strokes her hand gently down Riona’s hair.

I’m surprised to see that Riona allows this. In fact, she rests her cheek against her mother’s for a moment. She obviously respects Imogen.

But she still won’t admit that someone trying to murder her has affected her in the slightest.

“I’m fine, Mom,” she says.

“Imogen Griffin,” Imogen says, holding out her slim hand to me.

“Raylan Boone.”

“Thank you for coming to help us,” she says. “Dante speaks very highly of you.”

“I’m surprised,” I say. “He’s usually so honest.”

Imogen smiles, her blue eyes fixed on mine. “He is honest,” she says. “I’ve come to trust him. It never ceases to amaze me how even the bitterest of enemies can become friends. Or the reverse.”

She checks the delicate gold watch on her wrist.

“I’ve got to go,” she says. “I have a board meeting for the Chicago Library Association. Riona—Butcher and Meecham are here to keep an eye on things.”

I assume that’s her security team. I plan to give them a once-over before I leave, though I’m sure the Griffins are supremely careful who they hire for that type of position.