Page 23 of The Godfather’s Christmas Twins
I laugh. “That’s what makes you suspicious.”
“Maybe. The thing is, I don’t have any proof on any of them. We haven’t been able to trace the calls. I’m wondering if you can use your tech skills to see what they’ve been up to.”
“Okay.” During my undergrad, my degree was in computer science and security. Along with my MBA, computer knowledge is helpful when so much of business and finance is done digitally.
"On it. What about surveillance footage near Gia's usual spots? School, shops, that coffee place she likes? You didn’t catch a glimpse of anyone?”
“Those are being compiled now. I'll have it sent over tonight. I want this fucker found, Max. Found and eliminated.”
“You and me both.” I end the call, already pulling up my contact list. Time to put my best people on this, dig through every digital footprint these four have left.
Someone made Gia feel unsafe in her own home. Made her fear for her children. They'll learn why that was a fatal mistake.
Later that afternoon, Alicia Sloan, my admin, knocks on my door. "Boss? Got those phone records you asked for."
I wave her in, scanning the list of numbers that called Gia over the past months. Most are familiar, Nic, the kids' school. But three numbers stand out, all burners, all untraceable.
“Were these cross-referenced with any known calls into the family?”
“Yes. None came up.”
Of course they wouldn’t. Whoever is stalking Gia is too smart for that. I’m wondering if Nic’s focus on four men is too few. There has to be a long list of people who hold a grudge against him. Nic's rise to power left bodies in its wake. But someone specific targeted Gia, chose her deliberately. The question is why. Does it even have to do with Nic? Maybe she has an admirer who is angry that she's not paying him any attention. Or perhaps there’s a woman angry that Gia has the attention of a man.
My phone lights up with a message from Nic. He’s forwarding security footage from areas Gia frequents, her home, the kids’ school, shopping. I lean forward, studying the grainy images outside a coffee cafe. A figure in a hoodie, face covered, loiters, but his attention is on the window of the café. I squint and wonder if the woman in the window is Gia.
Rage builds in me that someone would be following her, menacing her and the kids. I need to put an end to this. Not just to keep her safe, but so that she can go home and live her life and I can go back to mine.
I send the image to my security team to see if they can make out more features of the stalker.
In between stalker hunting, I do my job, but my mind is never far from Gia and the kids. What did she teach them today? Did they make use of the pool?
At six, I’m walking out the door and heading home. It’s the first time I’ve left on time in years.
I walk into chaos. Flour dusts the kitchen counter, and both kids sport white handprints on their clothes. Gia stands in the middle, attempting to salvage what looks like an attempt at cookies.
"We wanted to surprise you," Daniella announces, her green eyes, so like her mother's, sparkling with mischief.
“Well, I have to say you succeeded.”
“It was a school assignment, so I’ve let them do most on their own.” She looks at the dough. “Clearly, something is missing.”
I roll up my sleeves. "Let me help."
"You bake?" Gia's eyebrow arches.
"I have hidden talents." I take stock of their dough. Okay, so I’m not a pastry chef, but I’ve had enough cookie dough to know they need something wet like butter or water.
We work side by side, getting the dough at a cookie consistency and spooning it on the tray. Hell knows if it’s going to turn out alright.
“Did you make cookies when you were little?” Daniella asks as we wait for the cookies to bake.
“Not so much,” I say with a knowing glance at Gia. She’s heard stories about me and Nic as kids. We were little gangsters even at Dario and Daniella’s age. I share sanitized tales about my childhood exploits. The kids laugh, and Gia's shoulders relax. For a moment, it’s almost like we’re a family making cookies.
I've built an empire here in Vegas, but nothing compares to watching these kids taste our creation, their faces lighting up. Even the burnt ones disappear quickly.
Later, instead of heading to my home office like I usually do, I invite Gia and the kids to enjoy a movie. As we watch, my phone buzzes. I check the caller, and when I see that it isn’t Nic, I ignore it. Whatever it is, it can wait because right here, right now, feels more important.
Dario falls asleep against my arm, and Daniella curls up between us on the couch. Despite Gia’s resistance, I help her put the kids to bed. Not wanting the night to end, I invite her to join me on the patio for a glass of wine. I try not to be too disappointed when she declines my offer.