Because somewhere between the job offer and the polygraph and this first week of working beside him, I'd stopped believing he was guilty.
Another text.Fine. But I need results. Clock’s ticking.
I’ll have something soon. In the meantime, back off.
I started the car, pulled out of the parking garage.
At home, I changed into something more comfortable and sat on my couch in the dark.
I needed to reassess what the hell I was doing.
My plans up until now had been successful. Get the job. Prove myself capable. So what was my next step?
I needed to find proof that Quentin had killed my father. The problem? I didn’t think he’d done it.
Over the past week, working beside him, watching him interact with his staff, seeing how he ran his business—nothing added up to a man who'd murder a partner.
He was careful. Strategic. Sometimes ruthless, yes. But calculated ruthless. Not impulsive or violent. That wasn't Quentin's style.
Which meant someone else had killed my father.
And my family had the wrong target.
But who? And how do I prove it in two weeks?
The smart move would be to tell Carlo. Explain my doubts. Ask for more time to investigate properly.
But Carlo had given me one month for a reason. The family was vulnerable after Big Sal's death. They needed to project strength. Needed revenge to prove they weren't weak.
If I came back empty-handed, or worse, if I told Carlo I didn't think Quentin was guilty without proof of who actually did it—
Silvio would take over.
And Quentin would die anyway.
Unless I find the real killer first.
Two weeks.
I sighed. That wasn’t much time. If I was going to clear Quentin's name and identify the actual murderer, I needed a plan. First, I needed to figure out where Quentin was the night my father was murdered. Did he have an alibi? Of course, that wouldn’t mean anything if he’d hired a hit.
What about Stone? He could have been the hitman. But so far, nothing I’d seen pointed in that direction. Sure, he was Quentin’s bodyguard, but to send him out on a hit seemed out of character. Quentin would have wanted to be more discreet. He’d hire a professional.
Maybe I could get a look at his financial transactions during that time and see if a large payment went out? I knew what to look for, so that would be a good place to start. Researching Quentin’s finances might reveal other things as well.
It also wouldn’t hurt to look into the deal he’d ‘supposedly’ made with my father. I knew it had something to do withan expansion Quentin had already begun. I’d seen something about a business development in California and vetting potential partnerships. I could start there.
My shoulders relaxed. Now that I had a plan, maybe I could deal with the rest of what was going on. Namely, managing the attraction between Quentin and me that had almost turned into a kiss. Anyone could have walked into the break room and found us. What was I thinking?
So, for the next two weeks, while working as his assistant and pretending that everything was normal, I had to manage an attraction that was getting harder and harder to resist.
"This conversation isn't over."
Quentin's voice in my head. The way he'd looked at me. The way he'd reached up and tucked that strand of hair behind my ear. The way he said 'Julia' like it's a complete sentence. The way he looked at me in that break room like I was the only person in the world, which was totally ruining everything.
Because I'd wanted him to kiss me. Badly.
You're compromised,Silvio's voice echoed.Too emotional. Too soft.
