All I saw was a terrified woman who looked like she hadn't slept in days.
"You disappeared," I said quietly. "One minute we're at dinner, you're confessing you were sent to kill me, and the next you're justgone. No explanation. Nothing."
"I know." Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Quentin. I wanted to explain. I tried to call you—"
"I blocked you."
She flinched like I'd slapped her. "I deserved that."
"Yeah. You did."
Silence stretched between us. Heavy. Painful.
"Carlo called me away," she said finally. "Texted me during dinner. Said I had ninety seconds to get in Silvio's car or—" Her voice broke. "Or you were going to have a really bad night. I didn't have time to explain. I just—I ran."
My chest tightened. "To protect me."
"To protect you," she confirmed. "I thought they were going to kill you right there. I thought Silvio was waiting outside to—" She pressed her hands to her face. "I thought I'd never see you again."
"But you're here now."
"I'm here now." She lowered her hands, meeting my eyes. "Silvio’s been watching me. He told Carlo we were… together. That’s why Carlo pulled me out. They don’t know I told you the truth… well… Aunt Filomena knows, but no one else. I told Carlo you were innocent. He gave me one week."
"For what?"
Her voice was steady now, but I could see her hands shaking. "To find concrete proof you didn't kill my father. If I can't proveit—" She swallowed hard. "If I can't prove it, Silvio comes back. And he finishes the job."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
"One week," I repeated.
"One week." She took a step toward me, then stopped, like she'd remembered she didn't have the right anymore. "I'm so sorry, Quentin. For lying to you. For deceiving you. For—for all of it. But I need you to know something."
"What?"
"When I told you I loved you—" Her voice cracked. "That wasn't a lie. That was never a lie. Everything else, yes. But not that. Never that."
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe her so badly it physically hurt.
But I'd found the thumb drive hidden in her lipstick.
"Stone found your drive," I said quietly.
Her eyes widened. "My—oh. The lipstick."
"The lipstick." I pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us by one careful step. "Professional-grade spy equipment. What was on it, Julia?"
"Nothing that would harm you." She said it so quickly, so desperately. "I was supposed to be gathering intel on you, but instead, the only things I copied were things that would prove your innocence. I didn’t put anything on there that my family could use against you. I couldn't…" She swallowed.
"Couldn't what?"
"Couldn't betray you like that." Tears spilled down her cheeks now. "I was already betraying my family by falling for you. By choosing not to kill you. By believing you were innocent. I couldn't—I wouldn't—give them anything that could hurt you."
I studied her face. The raw honesty there. The fear.
"Forrest checked the drive," I said. “The files you copied didn’t make a lot of sense. Now they do."
Relief crashed over her features. "Thank God."
