"Mr. Blackstone. Mr. Voss." She gestures to the chairs across from her. "Thank you for coming in."
"Agent Rivera." Voss extends his hand. She shakes it. "My client is here voluntarily, as promised. We're happy to cooperate however we can."
"Good." She opens a file folder. "Let's start with—"
The door opens behind us.
I turn, irritated at the interruption.
Lillianna sweeps in, and I'm not even surprised. Why would my sister let something like FBI protocol stop her? She gives Rivera a look that could freeze bourbon mid-pour.
"Ms. Blackstone," Rivera says, clearly recognizing her. "No one told me you'd be part of this interview."
"I'm not the only one." Lillianna steps aside.
Madison walks through the door, chin up, looking far older than fourteen in her navy dress. Behind her—
Ivy.
Black suit. Hair pulled back. Every inch the lawyer. Professional. Polished. Untouchable.
The air leaves my lungs.
She's here. In this federal building, walking into this mess, when last night she'd locked her door against me.
Voss stands immediately. "Agent Rivera, I'm going to need a moment with my client."
Rivera's eyes move from the three women to me, assessing. "This is highly irregular."
"Five minutes." Voss's tone makes it clear it's not a request.
Rivera sighs but stands. "I'll be right outside." She leaves, closing the door behind her.
Voss turns to me. "Did you know they were coming?"
"No."
“Jesus Christ." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Do any of you Blackstones believe in strategy? Or do you just wing everything and hope money fixes it?" He shakes his head. “We need to discuss how this changes our strategy—"
"There's no strategy to change," Lillianna says. "Madison tells the truth about when she told us about Dad's crimes. Ivy provides context about the remediation efforts. You keep my brother from saying something stupid. Simple."
“That’s never been easy or simple,” Voss mutters.
I snort and mutter, “Asshole.”
Voss’s grin is quick—there and gone, then he looks at Ivy. "Ms. West, as environmental counsel for Blackstone Bourbon, you have standing to be here. But Madison—" He turns to my youngest sister. "You're a minor. I need to know you understand you don't have to answer anything you're not comfortable with."
"I understand," she replies. "But I want to help Thorne."
Six weeks ago, this kid was nothing but a complication. Now she's here, defending me to my lawyer. The FBI.
Voss studies all three of them, clearly calculating angles. Finally, he nods. "All right. But when Rivera comes back, I'm doing the talking unless she directly addresses one of you. Understood?"
We all nod, and Voss retrieves Rivera.
She takes in our expanded group, her expression shifting to mild irritation. "Well. Quite the family reunion."
"Agent Rivera, I'm Lawrence Voss, representing Mr. Blackstone." He hands her his card. "Ms. West is here as environmental counsel for Blackstone Bourbon. Ms. Madison Payne has relevant testimony regarding the timeline of events. And Ms. Lillianna Blackstone is here as a family representative and co-owner of the company."
