"Good. Because I just mastered the coffee mug situation. Baby steps."
"We have twelve mugs. You've mastered nothing."
"I'm working on acceptance."
Quentin's phone buzzed on the counter. Unknown number. He glanced at it, frowning. "Probably spam."
"Could be important," I said.
He answered, putting it on speaker out of habit. "Hello?"
"Quin?" A woman's voice, shaking. "It's Bianca."
His whole body went rigid. "Bianca? What’s wrong?"
"I'm so sorry to call like this. I know you're probably busy, and it's only been three months since the wedding, and I promised I'd stay out of your life, but I—I don't know what else to do."
Quentin turned up the volume. "Bianca, slow down. What's wrong?"
"Everything. Everything's wrong." A shaky breath. "Remember how I said I'd tell you everything the day after your wedding? And then I—I got scared and left before we could talk?"
"I remember."
"I should have told you then. Should have asked for help. But I thought—I thought I could handle it myself. Thought if I just stayed in LA, kept my head down, it would blow over."
"What would blow over?" Quentin's voice had gone sharp. Protective.
"Roman. His family. All of it." She was crying now. "Gosh, Quin, I've been so stupid. I fell in love with him and I didn't—I didn't see what he was until it was too late."
"Who's Roman?"
"Roman Sterling. Or at least, that's what he told me." Her voice shook. "He's an actor. We've been together for six months. Living together. Planning a future. Or at least—I thought we were." A bitter laugh. "Yesterday I found out his real name isn't Sterling at all. It's RomanSantoro. I saw it on some legal documents at his place. When I googled it, I found—Ugh, Quin, his family has connections. East Coast. Organized crime. And he's been lying to me this whole time. About everything. Even his name."
Quentin and I exchanged looks. This was bad.
"Where are you right now?" Quentin asked.
"My house. In LA. But Quin—they know who I am. They know I'm your sister. They know about the Vanetti family. And I think—" She took a shaky breath. "I think Roman's family wants to use me. To get to you. And to get access to East Coast operations, or territory, or I don't even know what."
"Did Roman tell you this?"
"No. I overheard a phone call. He was talking to someone—his brother, maybe his father—about 'the Vanetti connection.' About how I was 'in deep enough that she won't walk away now.' About—" Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "About how I'm 'too valuable to lose.'"
My heart sank. I'd seen this play out before. People used as pawns, caught between families, leverage in games they didn't understand.
"Bianca," I said gently. "Does Roman know you heard this?"
"I don't think so. I left before he saw me. Told him I had an emergency meeting. But he keeps calling. Texting. Says he needs to see me. That we need to talk." She was clearly spiraling. "I don't know if he ever loved me or if it was all—if I was just a mark. A way to get to my family." Her voice wavered. "But that's the thing. Sometimes he'd look at me like... like he wasterrified of losing me. And he never pushed to meet my family, never asked about the Vanetti business. It was almost like he was avoiding it. Maybe I'm just making excuses because I don't want to believe—"
"Listen to me," Quentin said firmly. "You did the right thing calling. We're going to help you. But I need you to do exactly what I say, okay?"
"Okay."
"First, did you give Roman a key to your house?"
"No. I never—" She paused. "I never gave him one because some part of me knew not to trust him completely. But the weird thing is, he never asked for one either. Six months together and he never pushed. He'd say things like 'I respect your space' or 'take your time.' At the time I thought it was sweet, but now..." She laughed bitterly. "Dammit, maybe I'm not as stupid as I thought. Or maybe I'm being stupid right now, looking for reasons to believe he's not—"
"You're not stupid. You're careful. That's good." Quentin was already moving, grabbing his phone, texting someone—probably Stone. "Second, I'm sending someone to LA. Stone. You remember him from the wedding?"
