"Thank you for seeing us," Quentin said.
"Thank Jules. I'm doing this for her, not you." Carlo gestured to the chairs across from him. "Sit. We have a lot to discuss."
We sat. A server materialized with wine, filling glasses before disappearing again.
Carlo lifted his glass. "To family. And to decisions that will either be brilliant or get us all killed."
We all drank. The wine was excellent. It tasted like anxiety.
Carlo set down his glass, fixing us with a stare that probably made grown men confess to crimes they'd only thought about committing.
"So. You're married."
"Yes," I said.
"After barely a month of knowing each other."
"About that."
"While you were supposed to be investigating whether he killed our father."
"Yes."
"Makes perfect sense. No notes."
I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic. With Carlo, it was always hard to tell.
"I know how this looks," I started.
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like my sister fell for her assignment and decided to marry him instead of figuring out if he's a murderer. That's what it looks like from here."
"He's not a murderer."
"You don't know that."
"I do, actually. I have documents that point elsewhere. That’s part of why we needed this meeting. And of course, to get your blessing.”
"I've seen the paperwork you already sent," Carlo acknowledged. "Now you have more? Is it actual proof? Can you tell me who did this?"
"No," I admitted. "It's not definitive, but we've narrowed it down to a few people. That's why we need the wedding."
Carlo's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"
Quentin leaned forward. "With respect, Carlo, let us explain. Then you can tell us we're insane."
"Already leaning in that direction, but go ahead."
"Julia and I are married. That's already done." Quentin's voice was steady, confident in a way that made me fall a little more in love with him. "But we're proposing a small, traditional event. Here in New York. A family affair."
"And?"
"And someone’s been trying to kill us both. They failed. But they'll try again."
Carlo's expression hardened. "You're using the wedding as bait."
"We're using it to draw out whoever wants us dead," I said. "Someone with resources and connections. We think—" I hesitated.
"You think it's someone in the family," Carlo finished. His tone was ice.
