Page 80 of Remy

“And after a temperamental—or more accurately, confrontational—conversation, I learned of the agreement that was made with my father.”

The room falls quiet.

The prickle of foreboding grows.

I want to step in. Take over. Fix this.

“Did you also learn that the agreement had strict stipulations where your father was never to bear witness to our work while on your premises—for reasons of incrimination as well as safety?” Lorenzo asks.

“Yes.” She sits taller in the face of danger. “I’m aware.”

“And yet you seem to be taking this turn of events quite well.” My uncle raises a brow. “Why is that?”

“I’ve had my moments. But I trust my father. Like you said, he’s a good man. He wouldn’t have walked into this without careful consideration. My faith is in his judgment.”

For some fucked up reason her response fills me with pride. She’s walking this tightrope with cautious precision. Perfectly drip-feeding the truth.

“And where was your father during this?” Salvatore asks. “Because, to me, this situation seems like a fucking red flag of mismanagement. Or maybe even a setup.”

“He was in hospital.” She takes my brother’s stare head-on.

“Hospital?” Lorenzo directs at me.

“Yes. He had a fall after chemo treatment.”

“So Olivia is now aware of his health situation?”

“I am,” she answers.

“She knows he has cancer,” I affirm. “I was there when he told her the news.”

Lorenzo nods slowly, mulling over my response. “It must have been quite the night of revelations for you, mia cara.” He pushes to stand, giving Ollie a slight squeeze to the shoulder before circling the desk and taking his office chair. “Is Carlo okay?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Her voice waivers. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday afternoon.”

“Because?” Salvatore prods.

“I gave Remy my phone so he knew I wouldn’t call the cops.”

Slow your roll, Ollie. Be fucking careful.

“That was necessary?” Lorenzo pins me with narrowed eyes.

“It was a precaution.” I don’t look away. Don’t hint to my building unease.

“But the police showed anyway.” Salvatore throws his hands skyward in theatrical mockery.

“Because of a nosy neighbor,” I grate. “We shut it down without issue.”

Salvatore scoffs and shares a glance with Lorenzo.

A knowing, ominous glance.

Not good. Not fucking good.

“What?” I sneer. “Spit it out.”

Lorenzo raises an unimpressed brow. “Obviously this situation is concerning. She was never meant to find out.”

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