I sank into an armchair. "I know you don't trust me."
"Damn right we don't." Stone moved from the window, positioning himself where he could see both me and the door."You lied about everything. Came here to kill him. Had spy equipment in your desk."
"I wasn't planning—"
"Save it." He held up a hand. "I don't care what you were planning. I care about what happens now. You say someone's trying to kill both of you. That you have one week to find Big Sal's real killer. Fine. We work the problem. But understand this—" He leaned forward, and I saw the soldier beneath the security chief. "The second I think you're playing him, the second I think this is a setup, I will end you. Personally. Are we clear?"
"Crystal."
"Good."
Quentin returned with coffee, and we all sat down around the table. He set a mug in front of me. Our fingers brushed, and I noticed Stone's gaze track the movement.
"Let's get to work." Quentin pulled up a chair, opening his laptop. "Julia, start from the beginning. Tell us exactly what happened at the family meeting."
I wrapped my hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth. "Carlo called me back Friday night. Made me fly to New York immediately. He gathered the whole family—my cousins, aunt, uncles, even my grandfather."
"The grandfather who wants Quentin dead?" Serenity asked.
"Yes. Don Nonno. He's ninety-one, has cancer and dementia, but he's still the patriarch. His opinion carries weight." I took a sip of coffee. "The meeting was about determining if Quentin actually killed my father. Carlo gave me a chance to present my case."
"And?" Forrest looked up from his laptop for the first time.
"I told them everything I'd found. The business deals between you and my father that were still profitable. The fact that Papa's death cost Quentin millions."
"How'd they react?" Quentin asked.
"Carlo believed me. Or—at least, he's open to the possibility. He gave me one week to find concrete proof." I set down the coffee. "But my aunt Filomena—she's convinced you're guilty. She has sources she won't reveal, even to Carlo. She pushed hard for immediate action."
"Meaning killing me," Quentin said flatly.
"Yes." I met his gaze. "She wanted Silvio to finish the job then and there. Carlo overruled her. Barely."
Stone pulled out a notebook. "Tell me about Filomena. Background, position in the family, why she'd want Quentin dead specifically."
"She's my father's older sister. They were close. She took on an important role for the family." I licked my lips. "She became the family enforcer. The one who handles discipline, training, strategy. She trained me, actually. Everything I know about this life, she taught me."
"Convenient," Stone muttered.
I ignored him. "She's fiercely protective of family. When my father died, she was devastated. Now she’s certain that Quentin killed him, and nothing will stop her from seeking revenge."
"But why is she so certain?" Serenity leaned forward. "You said she has sources she won't reveal. What sources?"
"She wouldn’t tell us. Not even Carlo. She says revealing her sources would compromise her intelligence network."
Quentin and Stone exchanged a glance.
"That's convenient," Quentin said. "Almost like she doesn't have proof at all."
"Or like she's hiding something," Stone added.
I closed my eyes. Needed to share what I’d found at my father’s house, but it was hard to say the words out loud. She’d been like a mother to me. Taught me so much. Was this how it ended?
"I think—" Quentin stood, walking to the window. "I think the person who killed your father and framed me for it had access to information about both our families. A person who knew enough about our business dealings to make it look plausible."
"An insider," I whispered.
"An insider," he confirmed.
