Vicious Minds: Part 2 (Children of Vice 5)

She grinned, scrolling through the tablet. “True, but there is a different ring when you do it. I like when unhinged Ethan comes out and starts throwing things.”

“Noted.”

“Good. Your sister called?”

I watched her for a moment before reaching over and touching the plate. It was warm, not hot. “How long were you eavesdropping?”

She shrugged. “Long enough. How is the new princess?”

“Upset I have not called her.”

“This family.” She laughed, shaking her head. “How did they grow up with you and yet not understand you?”

“Are you saying you do?”

“I thought we already established that as reason number 901 as to why you love me?” she had the nerve to say seriously, checking the live feed of the cameras.

“There are 900 other reasons?”

“There are a million, actually.”

I chuckled. “I would like a written list.”

“I do not make written lists. Paper trails,” she replied and held up my tablet. “Am I seeing this right? You have a heroin storehouse under a preschool?”

“Is there a problem with that, asked the drug dealer to the assassin?” I answered.

“Yes!” she replied matter-of-factly. “Your business uses uncut diamorphine hydrochloride, aka white or snow heroin, the purest form of the drug. Which makes it finer and more likely to have residue transferred without noticing or even worse, getting sucked into the air vents. Children in daycare are what, under four? So, Gigi’s age. Breathing that in would cause various issues in minutes. Even if you sealed the rooms, it would still leak. The moment any doctor did a test to figure out what happened to all these sick toddlers, you would have narcotics on you within seconds. They would rip that place apart.” She looked back at me, surprised and confused. “That is a very rookie mistake, and you are not a rookie, so there must be a reasonable explanation, what am I missing?”

“What happened to reason number 901 being you understood me better than anyone else?” I shot back coldly.

But she made a face and stared back to the table

t, looking through the school again. Ignoring me, she searched online for a moment. Her shoulder dropped as she pieced everything together.

“I see.”

“Would you like to share?”

“Are we in class? Are you quizzing me?”

“Would it help to imagine if we were?”

The corner of her lips turned up slightly. “Depends on who’s the student and who’s the teacher.”

“You are the student.”

Her eyebrow raised as her gray eyes glanced back at me. From the way she looked at me, it was clear that she was not pleased with that. “I hope you are trying to say I am the student in some things and the teacher in others. Just like you.”

I looked away from her and to the desk. “What makes sense to you now?”

“Fine.” She huffed and focused again. “I didn’t do my due diligence before asking my question. It’s smart, due to the school shooting that happened there…side note, really? This is why Gigi is being homeschooled. People are crazy. Anyway, you used the shooting to your advantage. You donated anonymously to the city. They do not just clean or close down the school. They will tear it down and build a brand-new school with extra modern security. Something that would have the mayor looking really good, well, before you killed him anyway. He gave the contract to a construction company secretly owned by the Callahan family. With the policies for masks and hard hats at sites, you have a crew working on the school and another crew holding the drugs until they can be moved. They all blend in. Bravo. Well done.”

“I am so happy you approve. From the look on your face, it seemed like you had forgotten I have worked at this all my life,” I reminded her.

She nodded, looking at me. “Exactly, which was why I was so worried. If this wasn’t the case, that would have meant you were an idiot who had been getting by on sheer luck or your parents—”

“Calliope,” I sneered; she was pushing it.