I shouldn’t ask. I’ve had enough Blackstone drama without her dragging me into more. But I can’t ignore the desperation in her voice.
I make the go-ahead gesture. "Go ahead.”
"I know you know about the FBI meeting today. And yes, Voss will be there to handle the legal strategy." She pauses, her fingers twisting together. "But yesterday, when I saw Thorne at the distillery, he was spiraling. Back to day drinking. He talked like he was preparing to fall on the sword to protect the distillery."
My stomach pitches. For a man who views himself as the devil, he sure loves to save others.
"I think Madison should be at the FBI meeting," Lillianna continues, looking at my sister. "You're the only one who can establish that we didn't know about Dad's crimes until you told us. The FBI needs to hear that from you directly, not filtered through Thorne or a lawyer."
Madison sits up straighter. "I can do that."
"And honestly?" Lillianna turns back to me. "I need you there too, Ivy. I know I have no right to ask after what he did to you. But if Thorne walks into that building in the state he was in yesterday, he's going to take all the blame. He'll confess to things he didn't do just to protect the rest of us. Voss has the legal side covered, but we need to handle Thorne."
The lawyer in me knows she's right. The woman who's still furious wants to tell them both to deal with it themselves. But I can't ignore the knot of dread forming in my stomach
My phone is still open to Morrison Legal Group. I should close the tab, go upstairs, figure out my next move. Instead, I'm standing here deciding whether to save a man who won't save himself.
My gaze moves from my sister to Lillianna. She's waiting for my answer, and the raw pleading on her face makes my chest ache.
Thorne made a choice for me. Took away my agency because he thought he knew what was best.
And now I have to choose: let him face the consequences alone, or step in one more time.
Even though I'm furious.
Even though part of me wants to let him crash and burn.
But Madison's testimony could keep him out of prison. And my presence could show the FBI that this family is trying to make things right.
"Right. We're all going." I meet Lillianna's eyes. "But I might strangle him after I help him."
Madison grins. "Fair."
Chapter Thirty-One
Thorne
The FBI field office in Louisville looks more like a high school than a place where lives get dissected. Voss and I arrive fifteen minutes early. He's in his charcoal suit, burgundy tie, and carrying a pristine briefcase.
“Remember what we discussed,” he says as we walk through the parking lot. “Let me handle the talking. You remember how well it went last time you ad-libbed?"
"I remember you bitching about it for twenty minutes when we set up the meeting.”
"And I'll bitch for twenty more if you pull that shit again. If Rivera asks about Williams, you look at me. If I nod, answer briefly. If I don't, I'll redirect. Clear?"
"I know the drill."
"Do you?" He stops before we reach the entrance. "Because last time we strategized, you went completely off-script with Williams and turned a defensible legal outreach into an explicit quid pro quo."
I meet his eyes. "He needed to hear it from me."
"And now Rivera might have heard it too, depending on what surveillance they had." Voss adjusts his tie. "So today? You follow my lead. Understood?"
"Understood."
We check in at the front desk. A receptionist leads us down a hallway with industrial carpet and fluorescent lights that hum too loudly. Everything about this place is designed to make you feel small.
Agent Rivera's conference room is at the end of the hall. She's already inside, reviewing files spread across the table. Mid-forties, dark hair pulled back, expression that gives nothing away. She looks up when we enter.
