Chapter 24
Quentin
Over the past couple of nights, Julia and I had started seeing each other—in secret, driving separately, being careful. After the chaos of Monday and the investigation that followed, we'd both needed something normal, something just for us. We drove separately to the office each morning, left at different times. An impossible secret to keep long-term, but for now, it felt prudent.
This Friday morning, Stone arrived at my office before Serenity, just like I'd asked when I called them both last night—from Julia's apartment, not that Stone knew it. He would've had my head if he'd known where I'd been spending my evenings.
I'd have to come clean at some point.
"Good morning." Stone's eyes narrowed. "You're looking younger, Quentin. Something's different."
My pulse kicked. Did he know? "Nothing's different. Same barber, same cut. Been seeing Chuy for nearly twelve years—every Wednesday at eleven."
Stone's brow furrowed. "I wasn't talking about your haircut. But since you mention it, that routine is too predictable."
"The guy puts a straight razor to my throat every week. I'm not changing barbers because someone's after me."
“It’s just with this assassin still out there—”
“Your job is to find him. You and Serenity.” I glared at him, irritation flashing hot. “That’s what I pay you for.”
Serenity walked in at that moment. “What’s that?”
“I was telling Nate that I pay you and him to handle problems. Someone's gunning for Julia and me. I want them found and dealt with. Permanently.”
Stone raised both hands, palms out. "We're working on it." He crossed to Serenity, pulling her into a brief embrace. "Morning, Babe. Got you coffee." He gestured to the second cup on the table.
I stared at the coffee table. The couch. The armchairs arranged like we were hosting book club. My fingers drummed against my desk. “Should've made this office smaller. It's turning into a damn café.”
Stone dropped back into his seat, his eyes locking on mine. "You're wound tight. I get it." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "But taking it out on our coffee isn't helping anyone. We need to focus—who wants you dead? Who benefits? Who's got a grudge big enough to go after Julia too?"
Serenity took the chair across from Stone, worry etched in the lines around her eyes. “Stone's right. We're playing defense, and that's dangerous. I can read you and Julia, even scope out your meetings ahead of time. But we're one step behind.” She paused. “We need to go on offense. Find them first.”
My fingers drummed against the desk—once, twice—before I caught myself and stopped. They weren't wrong. But knowing they were right didn't ease the knot in my chest.
Julia. The shattered windshield. How easily that bullet could have found its mark.
I pushed to my feet, needing to move, pacing to the window. “So what do you suggest?”
In the glass reflection, I caught Stone watching me. His eyes narrowed slightly—recognition. He'd seen me worried about business before, about territory, about deals.
This wasn't that. This was personal.
And I couldn't tell them why. Couldn't admit that the thought of Julia getting hurt because of me made it hard to breathe.
I stepped back to my desk and sat down before meeting Serenity's gaze. "We can deal with my meetings as they come up. I've increased security at La Crumbedonna, but no more Friday zeppoles—at least not until we catch whoever did this." I tried to keep the regret out of my voice. It was just a pastry tradition, but it had beenmytradition.
I glanced at Stone. "Anything else to report?"
"The cars are handled," Stone said, pulling out his phone to reference notes. "And that blue sedan?" He grimaced. "Like I said when we found it Wednesday morning—abandoned about thirty miles outside city limits, completely torched. Professionally done—accelerant used, burned so hot the VIN was obliterated, plates were gone, no prints, no fibers, nothing. Fire department said it burned for hours before anyone noticed. We have zero leads on who owned it or where it came from."
Serenity frowned. "So, whoever took those shots knew exactly how to cover their tracks."
"Down to the last detail." Stone's expression darkened. "This wasn't some hired muscle. Whoever you traded shots with in that field? They're a pro. High-level. They planned every step and left us with nothing. No mistakes."
My jaw tightened. "Which means they'll try again."
"Yeah." Stone met my gaze. "And next time, they'll be even more careful."
