He hung up and turned, stopping short when he saw me.
"Hi," I said, suddenly self-conscious.
“Julia.” He spoke my name like a prayer, and I hurried to his side. Sliding into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like I belonged.
“What’s going on?”
"Isobel wants to meet tonight," he said finally. "Seven p.m. At a restaurant.”
My heart stopped. “Serenity’s vision?”
“Looks like it. She says she has a proof pointing to the killer. But it’s… touchy."
My head snapped up. "What kind of proof?"
"She wouldn't say over the phone. But she sounded—" He hesitated. "Concerned."
"Concerned how?"
"Like she'd found something she wished she hadn't."
A chill ran through me. "This must be it. Serenity’s vision coming true. We should cancel. Meet Isobel somewhere else."
“Let me call Stone. I need to tell him anyway. I’d like to know what he thinks.”
Quentin put the call through. A few minutes later, Stone came into the office.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Isobel called to set up a meeting at a restaurant tonight,” Quentin said.
“Shit. The vision.”
I nodded. “Exactly. I think we should cancel, or at least meet somewhere else.”
Stone considered it. “It might not change the outcome. But—I’m not sure we should. If this is a trap, we need to know who set it. If we control the situation, choose our positions, and be ready, it could be our chance to catch whoever’s after you.”
"Or it could be our chance to die," I countered.
"Julia's right," Quentin said. "It's too risky."
"Everything's risky." Stone's voice softened slightly. "But Serenity said you both survive. And afterward, you have the proof you need. What restaurant did she say?"
Quentin’s jaw tightened. "Il Giardino. Downtown. Private dining room in the back. Owned by the Moretti family."
The pieces clicked together in my mind. I sucked in a breath. "Chiara's family owns that restaurant. If Filomena thinks I've been compromised, if she thinks I've turned on the family—"
"She could have reached out to the Morettis," Quentin finished. "Told them you're a traitor. Told them to eliminate both of us."
"Or," Stone said, "the Morettis were in on it from the beginning. Maybe they're the ones who paid for the hit on Big Sal."
My head was spinning. "But Chiara—"
"Might not know," Quentin said quietly. "If her family's involved, they wouldn't tell her. Not if she's your friend."
Unless she was lying to me. Unless our entire friendship was a cover.
"We should go," Quentin said suddenly.
