Mixed in with my family's photos is a dead man on the floor in a pool of his own blood.
Cosmo Kouris.
They look like crime scene photos. Not official ones, but someone took these immediately after Theo killed him, before the police showed up.
But why would anyone give these to Athena? These aren't the kind of images you hand to a grieving daughter.
Something's not adding up.
There are two more things buried in this impossibly deep center console. I reach for the first, and it's three cream-colored envelopes. I open one. A wedding invitation. Theo and Stassi's wedding. The other two envelopes are the same. Between them there are at least a dozen identical copies, as if someone wanted to make sure they could show it to get in without issue.
Guest list was tight. Security was tighter. Someone had to get a real invitation to be able to do this, or Athena would have never made it past the gate.
My mind snaps to her in her red dress. The perfect trap. Beautiful woman at a family event, with access she shouldn't have had.
I shake my head. Forging a wedding invitation. Nothing is off limits anymore. Times are changing.
The final thing is a thin green folder. I open it, and it's a medical examiner's report on Cosmo Kouris. My eyes narrow as I skim the details.
It's fake. It's got most of the right details, but under cause of death, in black block letters, it reads: Gunshot wound by Dimitrios "Dimitri" Kastaris.
This isn't just inaccurate, it's impossible. Medical examiners don't list killers on death reports. That's not how these forms work. This is fabricated, and badly.
Someone built this narrative and fed it to her. If I didn't think she was in over her head before, it's clear as day now.
She's been fed manufactured evidence by someone with a very specific agenda. Someone who knew exactly how to manipulate a grieving daughter with talk of revenge.
John G. Whoever the fuck he is, he's using her.
And now I have to figure out why.
I run my hand over my face, considering what to do next. I need to find out everything she knows about this John G. character. See if?—
A loud crash erupts from inside the house. Glass shattering, something heavy hitting something else.
I'm on my feet instantly. My gun is in my hand, and I'm running toward the house.
My mind empties of everything except the target and the threat.
Athena.
I don't know if it's an ambush or another stupid move, but either way, she's mine to deal with now.
10
ATHENA
Itwist my wrists against the ropes, the fibers rubbing against my skin, making them feel raw. My arms feel tired, but I don't stop. I wiggle, jerk, twist again.
Dimitri's been gone for nearly ten minutes, enough time for me to work at these restraints.
He thinks he's so smart. So capable. But men always underestimate women like me.
I rotate my wrists again, and the rope around my left wrist loosens. Not much, but enough.
I pull, ignoring the pain, and my hand slips free.
"Yes," I say, triumph flooding through me.