Chapter 38 · Counting House Law

"Say it again," Dominic said.

"Three seats." I tapped the dull end of my pencil against the carbon transfer. "Lucchesi, Ferro, and Bruno Pell. All three took Victor’s wire. Same shell account, same reference string, four days ago."

He didn't move.

That was worse than yelling.

The dehumidifier rattled against the concrete in the corner. The green desk lamp threw his silhouette across the cot, over my ledger, swallowing me whole. Three in the morning. The counting room smelled like stale coffee, wet lime, and graphite dust.

He reached for the burner on the desk.

"Don't." I slammed my palm down over the screen before it could wake.

His gaze dropped to my fingers. Then dragged up to my eyes. Heavy. Dark.

"Mara."

"You kick their doors in tonight, you've got nothing." My voice held, even if my pulse was tripping. "You've got an accusation. Victor walks into the high-rise at noon and tells the commission the Castellanes lost their minds. Tells them you're executing your own table out of sheer panic."

"They took his cash."

"Maybe they took it.