Page 137 of Hidden Memories

“I have names, accounts, recordings. Since coming to talk to you here…” he clears his throat, a change in his disposition, “I’ve been working with the FBI, but I thought…” He pauses, gazing at me. “I thought you deserved to know as much as I do. I brought copies of everything so you’re looped in, Kat. GhostEye, the FBI… they have it all now.”

Enzo nods, affirmative but unimpressed.

Santi gives no mercy. “Too little, too late, don’t you think, Paul?”

My dad’s eyes search mine. “It’s the only thing I have left to give.”

The sincerity in his voice moves me. I wish it didn’t, but for all his flaws, and all his failures, this man is still my father. And maybe, just maybe, he knows this is the last thing he’ll ever get to give me.

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” my father says quickly, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

The words catch me off guard.

Santi’s jaw tics, his eyes are dark with barely restrained anger. I’m sure he thinks my father is only here to cover his ass. Maybe to get on a path to saving his reputation. To participate, so he doesn’t get incriminated himself, or at least has the option of a plea bargain.

Santi doesn’t believe he’s changed. I wish I was that resolved but I’m not. Blood is a powerful connection not quick to break.

My father continues. “I don’t want you left in the dark, Katinka. Not when you’re worried about Theo. You deserve to be in the know. So much of this is out of our control; I hope this gives at least some of that feeling back.” He says it carefully. Not like a father offering guidance but like a man asking permission. “Would you like to see what I have?”

Santi takes my hand. “What do you think?”

The power is all mine.

In reality, I want to see the information. Playing the waiting game will kill me, and I can’t interfere with constant questions for Enzo, Ava, and Rio. They’re not even the only ones working on things. Honestly, it would empower me, just a little, to have a glimpse at the bigger story.

“I’ll take a look.”

My father’s shoulders sag in relief. “Thank you.”

My dad shifts his weight, his hands trembling as he reaches into the car. He retrieves a briefcase—still high-end, rich leather, but the design is at least a decade old. This is where he holds the evidence? How long has he lived with suspicion? How long has he let a rat nest in his coop?

“It’s all here,” he says. “Everything I handed over.Drives, copies of documents… everything that could tie Nic to the Mafia.” His eyes widen over dark circles deep with exhaustion. “I swear, I never saw this coming… but now? Now, it all adds up.”

Rio budges him aside and snatches the briefcase out of his hand.

His tone is dark and unforgiving. “Let me tell you something I learned about greed, Paul. A little greed can make a man ambitious, but too much? It rots him from the inside, makes him blind to the things heshouldbe fighting for.” He lifts the briefcase toward us. “GhostEye will check this over first if that’s okay?”

I nod with a thin-lipped smile then meet my father’s gaze, searching for any trace of deceit. But all I see is a man desperate to fix what he’s broken.

Santi points his finger like a dagger at my dad. “If you’re lying, if any of this is bullshit—I won’t need the FBI. You’ll answer to me. And I don’t deal in plea bargains.”

Something shifts in my father’s eyes. Not just fear. Understanding. The kind of understanding that only comes when a man realizes he’s finally met someone he can’t buy, manipulate, or escape.

Then, Santi gives a curt nod. “Go.”

Dad nods quickly, taking one last glance at me, gaze full of loss until he crumples himself back into his vehicle and we watch him drive away.

Gabriel, Enzo, and Rio handle the rest, their efficiency a sharp contrast to the emotional storm still raging inside me. As we step back toward the house, I glance over my shoulder one last time, but my father is already gone.

Santi’s arm curls around my shoulders, his strength anchoring me to the moment, pulling me away from the past that clings like smoke. The air I breathe feels lighter,the weight of what’s behind me giving way to the fragile, undeniable spark of what lies ahead—not just survival, but the quiet, steady promise of something I thought I’d lost forever.

Hope.

Chapter Thirty-Five

PRESENT

A weekafter the big showdown with Nic, I ventured into town for some nice coffees, muffins, and donuts from Café Luna. Kat, Theo, and I hadn’t quite settled into a new rhythm of normal. Theo started new nightmares, sadly about being taken. Kat can’t sleep, and neither can I. We haven’t left the ranch.

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