Page 83 of Righteous Deceit

“I don’t know why you’re putting all this on my husband. He was at risk in that forest,justlike me. He protected me. He saved me, and then I saved myself.”

CJ is quiet on the line for a beat. “I was worried.”

“Well, your worry sounds a lot like blame. Don’t be so narrow-minded. I’ll come by the office next week and sign the paperwork to restore ownership of Lincoln Incorporated. I’m married now, and the stipulations are what they are. I do wish you would have gotten married before I did, though. Maybe you wouldn’t be so heartless.”

“Alessia.”

I hang up and walk back out to the living area. Diego has finished his conversation and sits silently, his face creased in worry as he works. His eyes move as fast as his fingers, flicking between screens.

“What did Lorenzo say?”

“Not much,” he answers absently. “Told me to find him something he can use, called me a few inventive insults for prioritizing mylittle games, as he called them, over the safety of the family, and hung up.”

He doesn’t seem concerned by Lorenzo’s disapproval.

“Salvatore told me they’d agreed to send the head of the man’s skull I crushed to Oisin as a declaration of war. I told him I’d update him tomorrow with anything you find. I assume New York isn’t planning on gatekeeping information?” I ask.

“No.”

“Good. CJ also confirmed that their systems haven’t been breached. It looks as though I was targeted directly.”

Diego’s fingers pause, and he inhales heavily before closing his eyes on an exhale. “I don’t like that. Are your passwords as easy to guess as the one to unlock your phone?”

I frown at him. “Jesus. Okay. I need to overhaul your cybersecurity as well. Until I have time to do that, don’t send anything important via email or text. And turn off your location services.”

I nod once and grab my phone to do as he says. “Coffee?”

“That’d be good.”

I remain silent while I make coffee, afraid to disrupt him. He’s different when he works. More stoic and outwardly unapproachable. He erects a guard that is impossible to maneuver around. He speaks very little, and the few words you can pry from him are sharp and reluctant. I saw it the first time we met face to face, and I can see it now. He lets work become his whole focus, and while admirable, it puts me on edge.

He doesn’t look up as I place his coffee beside him. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

“You don’t have to,” he shocks me by saying. “My search parameters are on auto. I won’t look at you because my eyes need to be here, but I’m listening.”

“Can I look, too?”

He shrugs. “Go for it.”

I pull up a seat beside him and watch as photos flick through at an alarming speed. “Gosh. How do you do this? I feel dizzy already.”

He barks out a laugh. “You get used to it.”

“How did you learn all this?”

He gifts me his trademark lift of his shoulder. “School. Friends. Self-taught. The software also helps.”

“Does your dad help with this type of work for the family too?”

“Fuck no. My dad wouldn’t know how to turn a computer on. He runs point on another facet of our business.”

Limited details, fair enough.

“Are you close?”

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