strengthening stability. “I haven’t met your husband yet. Is he anything like his brother?”
I’m fishing, hoping to catch a trail that leads to confirmation of my suspicions. One clue to wipe away my insanity would be enough.
“He’s a good man. And an even better father.” She leans against the plaster beside me, looming close. “I can’t count how many times he’s put his life on the line for me and my family.”
I wince. This isn’t the information I want.
“I miss him,” she continues. “Even more now that the stakes are rising. But he always has to be in the thick of everything, trying to save the world.”
“He sounds a lot like Luc.” I lower my head, hiding my remorse. She’s making me question myself even more.
“He is. But don’t get me wrong—he has his days.”
“What does that mean?” I shoot her a glance.
“He’s great, but in the end he’s still a man.” She shrugs. “Sometimes he leaves the toilet seat up or doesn’t listen to a word I say. Or he’ll tell Stella she can have ice cream when I’ve already told her she can’t. Nobody is perfect. What’s important is that we’re good together, which says a lot when we’re usually in each other’s pockets, at home and with the family business.”
“The family business… I haven’t been told what that involves exactly.”
She falls quiet, the seconds stretching until she releases a sigh. “It’s complicated. I want you to know it’s nothing like what my father was doing, though, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I feign indifference. “No, it wasn’t. I was only curious. Luca hasn’t said much about his brother. He hasn’t heard from him either. I think he’s worried.”
“Nobody has heard much from Benji lately. Not even me. Apart from being in and out of phone range, he’s needed space.” She crosses the hall to look at me head-on. “He hasn’t told me as much, but I think he holds himself responsible for what happened to you and the other women. He feels guilty for not figuring out what my father was up to. I do, too.”
I wince with renewed remorse. Her husband sounds honorable, despite how relative that term can be in this world. If only I could quit questioning Abi’s death. “I’m sure it’s a heavy burden to bear.”
“Sorry.” She cringes. “I don’t mean to be insensitive if that’s how it came across.”
“Not at all.” I offer a half-hearted smile. “I appreciate you trying to make conversation.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to approach you for hours.” She lets out a whisper of a chuckle. “This situation isn’t easy.”
I nod, no longer capable of words. Every kindness she utters makes me question my theory about Abi’s suicide. I don’t want to lose faith in my sister. I refuse. The Torian family are still my enemy.
“Why don’t you come cook with me and the kids?” Layla waves for me to get up. “I’ve been left in charge of making lunch, and it may not be edible if I don’t get an extra set of hands to keep Stella and Tobias under control. I still have no idea when the nanny will show up.”
My heart stutters. Not only at the kind offer, but the carefree image of Toby she inspires. I want to see that side of him again. I yearn to be involved. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. It will give me an opportunity to get to know you.”
Yes. And it will give me the ability to shed my weakness and dig deeper on her husband.
21
Luca
I’m relegated to a private room at the back of the house with my MacBook, given a burner phone, and told to substantiate Penny’s claims.
It’s my job to prove Robert is alive.
I’m also left to establish whether Abi’s death was murder or suicide, and I don’t know which conclusion is preferred when I can’t get hold of my fucking brother.
Penny has gotten into my head. Those instinctive feelings of hers are wearing me down. She’s making me question everything—Robert’s execution, the protection I’ve provided, and worst of all, Benji.
I haven’t doubted him before.
His sanity, maybe. His loyalty? Never.
I can’t quit scrutinizing Robert’s actions as I scour hours of video surveillance. I fast forward and rewind unending vision from the gas station, trying to get a better view of the man who stole the money. Or his fucking car. I watch different angles of the same timespan over and over, attempting to catch a glimpse of familiarity until my headache builds into a