"And the co-executor." He pulled up another document. "Filomena Russo."
Julia’s face went white. I pulled a chair out for her and she sat down.
“Filomena had access to my father's money. Millions of dollars she could move around without anyone noticing. Money she could use to pay for—"
"A hit," I breathed. "She could have paid someone five million to do it."
"That's the theory.” Forrest's brows dipped.
I nodded. "But we need proof. Real proof. Bank records, communications, something that ties her directly to the payment."
Julia met my gaze. "How do we get that?"
I rubbed a hand through my hair. “Without raising red flags…” I shook my head. “I asked Isobel—she’s my lawyer—to come in. She has access to legal channels we don't. If anyone can pull those records without raising red flags—it’s her."
∞∞∞
An hour later, Isobel came into my office. I introduced her to Julia and they took an instant liking to each other. Julia asked about her outfit. “Is that from the new Theory collection?”
“You have a good eye.”
“I think the charcoal gray sets off your eyes beautifully.”
The two women chit-chatted about clothes and shoes for several minutes. I enjoyed watching Julia relax, but I was readyto get down to business. I cleared my throat and Isobel glanced my way.
“You want to talk about women's fashion too?”
I scoffed. “No. And I hope you were off the clock during the time Julia was giving you makeup advice.”
“Of course I was.” Isobel smiled at Julia. “In fact, darling, you should bill me. I knew I should try switching out the Ruby Woo but I wasn’t sure to what.”
“Try the Armani 400 Heat, that hint of coral will do the trick.”
Julia winked at me as I turned toward my office—I couldn’t tell if Isobel caught it or not—but when she sat down in front of my desk, she brought it up.
“So, you’re having a fling with Julia, or is it something serious?” She pulled out her notebook.
“It’s not a fling.” I took my chair behind my desk.
“Okay.” She wrote down something and glanced my way with a raised brow. “So, tell me what’s going on.”
I began by telling her about my relationship with Julia Russo, who was still on the books as Julia Russell. Every complication, every risk, every detail that could come back to haunt me. That's what attorneys are for—the whole truth, no matter how ugly. When I finished, she went back through my story, questioning points I'd tried to skim over. She was thorough, brutally honest, and pulled no punches.
“There’s more.”
Her jaw dropped. “Of course there is.”
I told her about the time limit Carlo had put on us, along with the records Forrest had just found about Big Sal’s charity and the five million dollars that he’d traced to the corporation here in Salt Lake. “If we can find proof, it could save both our lives.”
“And if you can’t?” Isobel rubbed her forehead.
I’d never seen her lose her composure, but this situation seemed to do the trick.
Isobel stood and began to pace. After walking back and forth a few times, she stopped and turned my way. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “Quentin. What have you done? She’s the freaking daughter of a murdered mafia Don. What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t know that fact at first.”
She shook her head and muttered something under her breath. Stopping, she leaned over my desk and looked me in the eyes. “Tell me one thing. Do you love her?”
