“That might be good for all of us if he does. Yuri Antakov and Nicola were vicious but smart, and with his death, if someone like Sacha takes over, the business will be taken a piece at a time. The feds will get their share, and their rivals will get the rest.” He stood and pointed to the door of the private dining room. It opened to a quiet balcony that was glassed in. “If he takes your advice, it’ll be me who owes you a favor. These assholes have been a pain in my ass for years. Believe what you want about me, but I’m not into little girls and human trafficking.”

“Cain,” Lou said from the door. “I hate to bother you, but I need a minute.”

“Excuse me,” she said, glancing at Remi. Her friend smiled and offered Angelo a Cuban Cohiba.

“Finley called. There was an incident at Delmonico’s. Someone opened fire, and there are two dead at the scene.”

“Is Nicola one of those two?” Nothing in life was ever this easy, but you never knew.

“Oblonsky swears she went down, but the two dead are the valet workers from the restaurant. Fin is checking with hospitals, but the place is crawling with cops. I’ll let you know if Fin calls with anything else. The two guys we sent to the scene pretty much said the same thing. The valets went down, but the witnesses said there were a few others who got shot.”

“It’s time to wrap this up, so get ready to move.” She went back out and told Angelo and Remi what happened. Angelo understood her need to go and wanted to make a few calls of his own.

“Thank you for everything,” she said, kissing both his cheeks.

“The next time we meet in New Orleans,” Angelo said. “I think our families are meant to do business.”

They moved out in three different cars with Lou and Simon seeming trigger happy. As they got in, Cain noticed the FBI team led by Joe and Shelby right across the street in an SUV. She could imagine the conversation going on in there as they tried to figure out what she was doing meeting with such illustrious company. The drivers Angelo had provided didn’t stop until they were back at the hotel.

“She’s not dead?” Abigail asked when they were in the suite. “Are you kidding me?”

“We don’t know that, but according to her idiot cousin, she was shot. I’ve checked with every hospital, and she’s not in the morgue,” Finley said.

“You’re asking the wrong people,” Cain said. She took out the card Angelo had given her and called him. “I hate to bother you after such a great meal, but I have a question.”

“Like you said, we’re friends, so ask.”

“Who’s your doctor?”