He’s a monster. That’s what he is. A lying, thieving, murderous monster who tried to have Sofia killed.
Fuck.
It’s still hard to believe. My father, the man I once thought could pretty much walk on water, tried to have the woman I lovekilled.
I thought it was bad enough, what he’d already done. But this?
How could he?
He hired a damn hitman to take Sofia out. If not for noticing the glint of the sniper rifle, she would have been shot right in front of me. Given where the bullet hit the car, she would have been shot straight through the heart if I hadn’t pulled her down just in time.
My nightmares have been filled by images of Sofia lying on the street, me desperately shouting for help while trying to stem the bleeding. I keep waking up in a cold sweat, terrified that I didn’t save her, and she’s actually gone. That I’ll turn over to see an empty space on the bed instead of her.
Andhedid that.
I know it’s not about me, not really, but I can’t help asking myself,Did he ever care about me at all?Or was I just a commodity?
He wanted my computer skills for his company; that was no secret. He said it when I went into the Army, and again when I left.“Come work with me,”he would say.“We can take Parisi Protective Services to the next level. With my experience and your skills, we’ll be unstoppable.”
But I just thought he wanted to expand his business. I thought—foolishly—that he just wanted his son to work with him.
How wrong I was. About everything.
Because the hunch Sofia had about his company? I’m ninety-nine percent sure she was right.
It makes sense. She investigates four home invasion slash thefts, with my father’s company as the link between them. And not even a day later, she’s brutally attacked after coming to visit me. To ask me face to face if I had any involvement, because even after what I’d done to her, she didn’t want to believe it.
Shit.
She believed in me.
She didn’t think I could be responsible for such a terrible thing.
God. The guilt.
It’s suffocating.
Forcing my attention back to the road, I drive past the driveway to my parents’ house, then cut the headlights and pull to a stop along the trees just beyond it. In their neighborhood, the houses are set back from the road and spaced a good distance apart, with swathes of mature trees surrounding them for added privacy.
Parked here, we should avoid notice in this exclusive community. And if my car isnoticed by a neighbor, it’ll fit right in with other Mercedes and BMWs and Range Rovers. They won’t think I’m here to break into my parents’ house.
That’s why we’re here—to get into my father’s office and find the rest of the evidence we need to have him sent to prison. Before, when I found out about what he did to Sofia in high school, I wasn’t sure I could turn in my father. But now? Knowing the truth of everything he’s done? There’s no question of it.
I could have gone to the police with the confession I got from the sniper. But I don’t think it would have been enough to ensure a conviction. Not with my father’s connections. Not when all I have going into this is a recorded confession, the number of a burner phone I’m sure my father disposed of already, and a whole lot of circumstantial evidence that might not hold up in court.
Over the last two days, since Sofia got her memory back, I’ve found plenty of evidence that points to my father being guilty of dozens of crimes. Home invasions, kidnappings, burglaries—all at propertiesallegedlyprotected by Parisi Protective Services. And when I hacked into his financials, I found a staggering number of offshore accounts, perfect for funneling illegal money into.
Even if I didn’t believe Sofia, it would be enough to convince me. But I believe Sofia. And the timing of her attack, just after those calls she made…
I wish therewasanother explanation. But I don’t think there is.
So the only option I have is to find more evidence myself. And someone like my father wouldn’t save his important documents online. He’d keep them on his home computer or in his safe. The safe I know he has in his office, though he’s never given me the combination to it. But with Houdini here to break the safe, Jester as lookout, and me to check my father’s computer—we’ll find what we need. And once I do, I’m turning him in.
Shutting off the ignition, I pocket the key fob and turn to my friends. My brothers. Two men who, once I told them what I needed, didn’t hesitate to offer their help.
“Okay,” I tell them. “First, I’ll hack into the security cameras and set them on a loop. Then I’ll deactivate the motion detectors and bypass the lock on the back door. We’ll loop around theeastern side of the property, along the treeline. With the motion detectors off, the lights shouldn’t come on as we approach.”
Houdini gives me a quick nod. “Okay. Anything else in the house we should be aware of?”
