◆ Let Me Help You ◆

◆ MAGNUS ◆

Pressure points.  Certain areas on the human body that could be manipulated to cause pain or other significant effects.

I was no masseur, but in this world I lived in, using specific pressure points to deal with people from all walks of life helped me get to where I am today.

Privileged.  Comfortable.  Somewhat influential.  Running my own businesses.  Free to do whatever I wanted.  Whenever.  Wherever possible.

Growing up in a family of hardened criminals could be the major catalyst, but I wasn't one to dwell on the past.  Not anymore.  Most people who knew me did things for me because I helped them see their future.  Not the opposite.

Being a bit of a fortune-teller didn't always amuse me, but dealing with people became particularly easy once I figured out what really made them tick.  Most of them actually wanted the same old things:

Money.  Protection and stability. The power to choose.  And most importantly, time.

Niccolo Vinciguerra...not that different.  I didn't have any issues with the kid. But if he didn't return the favor I did for him and the Falcos, I might resort to rather uncivilized measures.  He should know where exactly Maximiliano had been hiding my long-lost sister.

It's possible her family in New York already knew everything about the Italian mafia clans Mykaela had unfortunately come across, and now her family's also doing their best to protect her.  Whichever the case, I had a good reason to believe that Niccolo was privy to such information.

For one, the Falcos turned him into a double-agent in just months.  They taught him to betray Ilya—of all people.  Stefano Falco's clever tactics in play, no doubt.  Most likely his son forced Niccolo to help hide Mykaela from peering eyes and ears.

Like mine. "Where are you?" I put the phone on speaker as I sat alone in the balcony, enjoying the warm summer breeze.

"Why?"

"Humor me."

"Why'd you call?" Niccolo muttered on the other line, his monotone sounding leery. "You know why I'm still hiding."

"Got a warrant out?" I chuckled. "Archambault didn't offer you a good deal?"

"He doesn't know how much the Tomassinis hate rats."

"And I suppose you do?"

"Leandro found out I secretly work for Stefano." Niccolo sighed.  Then silence.  The palpable terror in his near trembling voice made him sound like he's about to cry now.  "Now that Stefano's on the run,   Leandro probably knows what we did to his shipment."

"If he and his clan bribed enough people on the force and on the street, yeah. I would expect the same."

"And what we did to help the kids his dumb pimps bought and tried to sell."

"Quite admirable what you and Maximiliano did, to be honest. You don't even know any of those people."

"They're just poor kids. Starving immigrants." Niccolo sniveled. "They don't deserve hell."

"I agree."

"Why'd you call?" Niccolo sighed and cleared his throat.

"Do you really have to ask?" I laughed a little, keeping up a calm, friendly tone.  Just to reassure him I wasn't on the enemy's side.  I was merely an outsider trying to help their cause, and only expecting a few small favors in return.

"Ilya called you again?"

"He told me Mykaela called him a few weeks ago. Promised him they would meet up in New York. Now that number she used is no longer in service. Care to explain?"

"I dunno. Maybe she got a new phone or line."

Alright, then.  This one's not gonna be as easy as I imagined.  Obviously he wasn't going to just give up the information I needed.  Time to move on to a more efficient pressure point.  "Maximiliano told you to help hide her location?"

"No." Niccolo scoffed.  "I've been busy trying not to get killed, like I said."

"I'm guessing you're scared of what the Falcos would do to you?"

"For what?"

"Relax. I just wanna meet her," I replied, faking another chuckle.  "Chat over coffee. Catch up.  Ask about her childhood.  Yada yada."

"Sure," Niccolo murmured.

"Email me her current address. I'll wait."

"Sorry, man. I really don't know."

Lies.  Huge stinking bullshit left and right.  But I knew why he felt he had to protect Mykaela, too.  I could pay another private investigator to do the looking and digging, but that would mean wasting more money and at least another couple weeks of waiting.

Time wasn't on Ilya's side—as much as I was getting impatient.  Finding my half-sister wasn't the only big issue I currently had on my plate.  After this call, I would have to scour the streets to pull some strings again.  A young rogue just committed a double homicide in the dead of night.

Not exactly my typical Saturday.  "Where in New York?" I asked Niccolo.  I sat back and watched the calm sky, trying to keep my voice down while keeping my thoughts cool, positive, and orderly.

Evonne's in the bedroom, only a few steps away, napping after a doctor's appointment.  The third fertility doctor we'd seen.  I'd rather leave the house than disturb her peace of mind again with another slew of unpleasant news.

"I thought you got lots of eyes and ears in the force now. Only in the California area?"

"I just need Mykaela's new number.  I'll only talk to her.  I won't do anything that would trigger your ex's  temper tantrums. Alright?" I snickered.

"If I had it, I would send it to you now." Niccolo sighed. "I can't even get a hold of Maxim.  I haven't talked to Kel since I last saw her, in the Falcos' estate with Stefano and Eleana. She said she's renting a small apartment. But that's it. She didn't say where."

"You scared of them, too? Or Maximiliano paid you to help him hide her location?"

"No."

I grinned.  The half-second pause before Niccolo replied said enough.  Perhaps he just didn't want to betray his ex-boyfriend's trust.  Fine.  Time to use another pressure point.  The best one for this type of situation.  "How much do your parents owe the Bôžičs? In total and remaining balances?"

"I don't know."

"I can help you with the money. Zero interest."

"Look. All I know's she's back in New York, still in med school, and she's graduating next year. That's it. I don't even know which city or town her family lives."

Another bunch of bullcrap.  I shook my head and grinned to myself.  "Ten mil? Double? Or Alex upped the interest?"  My money-hungry brother, Alex, started out in the family business as a part-time loan shark. Perhaps that's how Niccolo's parents tragically ended up owing the Bôžičs real money.  "Just tell me, Nicco. I'd find out anyway."

"Ask Ilya. I haven't talked to him or my folks in months. Okay?" Niccolo droned on with a loud sigh, sounding believably exasperated now.

"I'll wire you three million now.  Send me your bank account details and Mykaela's new mobile number."

"Seriously, man. I don't know. I-I don't even know the name of her school. Or where in New York. And I highly doubt Maxim or Kel would just tell me. I mean, I have her old emails but she doesn't use them anymore."

"If you give me her current address first thing, then I'll send you the rest of the money."

◆