get my alter ego, Roberto Scarpelli, on a flight out of Chicago if necessary.
As I yank open my desk drawer to grab the keys to my bike, my eyes flick over the newspaper I left on my desk months ago, the day we all moved back to Pop’s during the trial. It’s a Chicago Tribune folded back to the page with an article about the governor’s literacy ball. I glance over the picture of Sophie and me standing next to the governor and his wife, then toss it in the trash. That was a lifetime ago. Everything has changed.
I pocket the key and head for the door. Stupidly, I don’t look through the peephole before I rip it open. If I did, I would have seen my welcome party.
His hands are in the air and my Glock is trained on his face in a heartbeat.
“I’m unarmed, Rob,” Oliver says, holding his ground.
My finger tightens on the trigger as I press the muzzle against his forehead. “That was poor planning on your part, then.”
He takes a deep breath, seemingly more perturbed than afraid. “Can I come in?”
His hair is longer than it was last time I saw him, dark waves down the sides of his square face. Impeccably groomed, as usual, he’s in a dark gray suit and slate blue button-down with the collar open, looking every inch the refined businessman.
“Everyone knows you don’t have the stomach for your own dirty work, Savoca. You might be unarmed, but what about the army you have waiting on the street?”
He shakes his head and I push the muzzle tighter against his skin. “No army. Only me.”
I breathe out a sardonic laugh. “And you’re also known for your honesty.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“Because you’d tell me if you were lying? Nice try. How did you know I was here?”
A smile ticks his mouth. “Your doorman’s on my payroll. Has been for years.”
I shake my head at myself. I should have known.
“Let me in, Rob. We need to talk.”
“Talk,” I say, shoving the gun and forcing him back a step.
“We didn’t contract the hit on your family.”
“Why should I believe that?”
“Because I know who did.”
Now he’s got my attention. I back up, keeping my Glock trained on his face. He follows me through the door and closes it.
“Spill it,” I say, gesturing with the gun toward my sofa.
He sits. “First, I’ve got terms.”
“And I’ve got a gun. Who do you think wins?”
“Hear me out,” he says, leaning deeper into the cushions. His casual confidence tells me he’s lying either about being unarmed or about the army outside, because the other alternative is he’s a moron, and I know better.
Oliver is a strategist. If he’s got a flaw, it’s that he overthinks things. He’s slippery and dangerous, and I’m not going to make the mistake of underestimating him.
But I need to know what he knows.
I settle into the armchair next to the sofa, keeping my gun trained on him. “Talk.”
“Our fathers are gone. This is our time, Rob,” he says with a wave of his manicured hand between us. “Our fathers’ ways are antiquated. Crime is a business now, pure and simple. There’s no need for all the bloodshed. It’s time we stared acting like members of civilized society.”
I laugh again. “It’s all about image to you.”
He gives a single nod. “As it is to you. Your family has used you to clean up their image. Now it’s time to clean up the business too.”
“Really?” I say, lifting a brow at him. “How, exactly, is that going to work?”
“You and I declare a truce.”
I give him a disillusioned stare. “In case you haven’t noticed, my family is being hunted like dogs by yours. That’s hardly a truce.”
“I told you, it’s not my family.”
“And I told you I don’t believe you.”
A cocky smile tilts his mouth as he leans forward, elbows on knees. “If I wanted to take you down, I would have done it on the business end. Killing you is far less satisfying than destroying you and gloating as your empire burns to the ground all around you.”
“Lee always said you were a pompous ass.”
He tips his head. “And how is your lovely sister? I’ve missed her since Kellogg. Not too many people have the brains to give me a run for my money.”
I blow out a humorless laugh. “Is that why you want her dead? Because she showed you up in grad school?”
He rolls his eyes wearily. “I don’t want her or any of