“I will have my assistant get this scanned and copies printed out for you,” my attorney said, giving me a nod, then making his way out.

He was just some random guy Bass had picked out based on reviews online, since everyone agreed that linking a mafia lawyer to the legit business that we would be washing our money through was a bad idea. Especially if this new AUSA really was breathing down the family’s back like Renzo said.

“Mr. Vale,” Mitchell said, nodding a bit to his client. “Miss Amato.”

With that, he followed my attorney out.

“God, does your hand hurt too?” I asked, flexing mine.

“I’m used to it at this point,” he said. “Things are going to move fast from this point on,” he told me. “With the project,” he added, his lips quirking up.

“Of course with the project,” I said, chin lifting. “What else would you be talking about?”

He ignored that.

“I am going to have a few crews over at the building tomorrow.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting rid of the rats—and any other pests if they find them.”

“I better not hear you let anyone hurt any pigeons if they’re there.”

“You have a soft spot for pigeons?”

“We failed them.”

“Failed them?”

“We domesticated them. Brought them down from the rocky cliffs that they were native to to keep them in cages in cities. Then used them for their flying skills. And then when we didn’t need them anymore, we just… tossed them out like garbage. It’s not their fault that they hang around us. They rely on us, since they are no longer anywhere near their native area.”

“Do you have pet birds?”

“No. I mean, I would maybe take in a pigeon if I found one that needed a home. But no.”

“Then why the passion about them? Humans have been cruel to animals since the dawn of time.”

“I saw some asshole kick one once. Killed it.” I went ahead and left out the part where I’d almost killed him for it. “And I dunno. I was so upset about it that I started to look into why so many people hate pigeons. Read a few books. Watched a lot of videos. And that’s when I learned about what we did to them. I, uh, actually feed the pigeons in the park near my apartment.”

I hauled fifty-pound birdseed bags to my apartment every two weeks to always have on hand for those trips. It was the closest I got to a gym routine.

“With all the old ladies?” Soren asked, a smile warm enough to make his eyes look all gooey.

“Hey, those old ladies are a good time. I met one once who confessed to killing her first husband.”

“Seriously?”