Page 15 of Whatever It Takes

At the same exact second, Keir asks, “What did you find on Bianca Manzo?”

Both their heads whip in my direction.

“Who is Bianca Manzo in relation to the Manzo family, and why were you looking into her to begin with?” Easton growls.

“Well, I don’t know what she would have to do with whatever you were talking about with Arden, but I was looking into herbecause—you know what? It might be better if I just show you.” I snag my laptop, wiggle my finger over the trackpad, and pull up the side-by-side I put together of Bianca Manzo and Briar.

Easton stomps around the desk to stand by Keir, and I shove myself out of my chair to show them the images.

“Motherfucker,” Keir whispers. “That dickhead at the diner was right. There’s no mistaking it—that’s Briar.”

“I would have caught it upon her hiring, but you”—I nod at Easton—“told me not to bother with her background check.”

“Moving on,” Easton growls.

“The government did her no favors…” I go on to explain what I found about the massacre that occurred on her wedding day. “The feds seem to think it was the Russians who killed her husband-to-be, but I’ve studied Ivanov,” I say, referencing the head of the family that used to control New York. I guess they do again with the Barretts out of the way. “The massacre at Bianca’s wedding to Avan Barrett didn’t scream Ivanov and the Russians to me.” I shrug. “It wasn’t their style. It was far too clean for that. The entire operation…” I try to find a way to explain it. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. They didn’t kill Bianca. She was smuggled out by an undercover agent the DEA had in place with the Barrett family.”

“Jesus Christ,” Keir mutters, swiping a hand over his face.

I nod, because after reading the reports, it makes a lot more sense why Briar reacted to the car backfiring the first day she came in. I would be shocked if she doesn’t have some type of PTSD following her wedding. The pictures were gruesome, and I’m mostly desensitized to gore.

“Go on,” Easton grinds out.

“The feds promised her complete immunity and a brand-new life. Only, that fell apart when they realized she knew nothing of value. They put her out with a passable fabricated identity and let her claim a few of the tip rewards to have some cash to startover.” Balancing my laptop on one hand, I use the other to flip over to the crime scene photos. “The guy she was set to marry—Avan—they found his body at the crime scene, but his head was missing. The same for Tomlin Manzo, Bianca’s father. That’s probably why they blamed the Russians. It’s the only thing about the entire operation that screamedmafia killto me.”

“And if everyone is dead, why is Briar living in fear?” East asks, studying the computer screen.

“Her brother.” I flip the device back around and pull him up. “Titus Manzo was not in attendance. I’m going to guess he wasn’t pleased that his sister spent so much time in federal custody. He might even believe she had something to do with the setup. For the record, I don’t buy that for a second, but if she did, it would have been justified. The world didn’t lose a thing worth missing that night.”

Keir curses under his breath. “She knows someone from her old life spotted her. She’s going to run.”

Easton growls. “That’s not fucking happening. Someone, get Jameson on the phoneright fucking now.” The unnatural calmness that takes over on the second sentence sends a shiver down my spine.

This is going to be a shit show.

Chapter Seven

Briar

The cab ride back to Jameson’s penthouse is a blur. The trip up the elevator passes with me trying to remember where my suitcases are and wondering if it’s even worth grabbing the few belongings I’ve accumulated.

I’ve built up a small wardrobe since working at Shadow Security. Outside of my clothes and shoes, I don’t have anything that I couldn’t bring myself to leave behind. I’d ditch those as well if money wasn’t an issue. It kills me knowing I’ll never have access to my baby pictures or any mementos from my mom.

It’s better to be alive to be sad about it than to be stupid and get caught trying to retrieve those things.It sucks, but it’s true. I can live without them, even if it hurts.

The elevator doors open, and I step out, taking the right toward Jameson’s penthouse. This place has never felt like home, and I wonder if it’s because I never let it.

Did I subconsciously keep myself from settling in because I always knew something like this could happen? It’s possible, but it ultimately doesn’t matter.

This life has come to an end.

I’m going to have to spend most of the money I’ve saved to secure a new identity. That’s why leaving without my clotheswould be a stupid move. Or maybe I’m hoping Jameson will see me and beg me to stay. He’ll notice something is wrong or see me planning to flee, and he’ll plead with me to level with him. He might even say something cliché like,all you have to do is trust me.

And I might.

It’s scary being completely alone in the world.

My hand shakes as I pull my key from my coat pocket and work on getting into the top lock. It might be a blessing if Jameson isn’t here. That way, I can get in and out without any distractions.

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