My eyes glide over the page once, twice, then a third time before reality seeps in. “He left the family…to me…” My head spins…or maybe it’s the world around me. I clutch the edge of the counter. “Why didn’t you show me this before?”
Connor begins gathering and reorganizing all the papers. “I hadn’t read it yet.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, struggling to breathe. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I swear.” He touches my arm. “Listen to me. It was in the vault with the diamond, and I took it. Then your brother or an enforcer beat me over the head and locked me up. Andwhen you set me free, someone had already murdered your dad. My priorities shifted, and I shoved this in the drawer with the tongs and the soup ladles?—”
I push off the stool and stumble away on weak knees. “I don’t believe you.”
How can I?
Does it matter? Whether he told me then or now doesn’t change the contents of the will.
My father…
Connor reaches out to cup my chin, tilting my eyes up to meet his. “I was going to wait to open this with you, but I had it out with your brother, and he?—”
“I don’t believe you, Connor.” I pull away and hug myself.
I’ve never felt so small, so alone. First Nino all but kicks me out of the kitchen, and now Connor’s hiding things from me.
Even if he’s not lying…what do I do with this information?
Connor clicks his tongue. “Believe me or don’t. The point is, you’re in charge. You’re the boss.”
An electric charge zips up my spine. Heat floods my cheeks, my neck.
The fuzz in my brain fades, just a little.
I’m the boss?
Connor drifts toward me, placing both his hands on my arms. “I think Nino found out about this. And I think he killed Eduardo because of it.”
I jerk back again, a boulder forming in my stomach. “What the fuck?”
He raises his hands. “Cat, listen. I really think?—”
“No!” I spin and rush to the sink, hunching over it as I retch.
Nothing comes up, but I’ve never felt so sick in my life.
Nino? My Nino? The little boy I taught to swim?
I run the water and sip down the cool liquid, which helps, if only a little.
Connor hovers at my side, rubbing small circles on my back. The warmth from his palm does nothing to melt the ice ball in my gut. “Have you talked to your father’s lawyer? To the executor? Maybe if you meet with them and?—”
I skitter away. “Shut up so I can think!” When I whirl back around, Connor’s retreated to the island, his face blank.
I bury my hands in my hair.
Is my brother capable of such a vile deed?
Could he be the murderer we’re hunting for? Is that why no one’s actively seeking the real killer?
Why my brother hasn’t uttered a word about Tony’s disappearance?
No…no. I can’t believe such an awful thing.
