Victor Rossi had a brother.
In fourteen months, I had never heard his name.
That fact told me more than any explanation could.
“His name is Adrian,” Victor said.
Finn was asleep upstairs, and we sat in Victor’s private study while security moved through the mansion.
“Older or younger?”
“Younger. Thirty-five.”
“What happened between you?”
Victor poured whiskey.
I stared at the glass.
He noticed.
Then, surprisingly, he put the bottle away.
“Our father died six years ago. Adrian thought the businesses should be divided equally.”
“And you didn’t?”
“My father didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian was reckless.”
“That sounds like a convenient answer.”
Victor almost smiled.
“You always talk to dangerous men like this?”
“Only the ones who employ me.”
His expression darkened slightly at the word employ.
Good.
Maybe it should.
“Adrian gambled,” he continued. “Borrowed money. Made promises using our family name. My father spent years cleaning up after him.”
“And after your father died?”
“I took control.”
“Adrian hated you.”
“He still does.”
“And Elena?”
Victor went still.
It was the first time I had said his late wife’s name directly to him.
Finn talked about her sometimes.
Victor almost never did.
“Did Adrian know her?”
“Of course.”
“What happened to her?”
The room changed.
Victor looked toward the windows.
“Car accident.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
I knew he was lying.
Not necessarily about the accident.
About the simplicity.
Nothing in Victor’s life was simple.
Before I could push, a soft noise came from the doorway.
Finn stood there holding a framed photograph.
I recognized it.
Elena.
She had dark hair, a bright smile, and Finn’s eyes.
“Hey,” I said gently.
Finn walked toward me.
“I want Mom.”
My heart broke.
Victor looked away.
I held out my arms.
Finn climbed onto my lap.
“Dad says you’re leaving.”
My gaze shot toward Victor.
“I said no such thing.”
“You said she should go.”
Victor exhaled.
Children remembered everything.
“I’m staying right now,” I said.
Finn studied me.
“Because somebody bad is outside?”
Victor’s head snapped toward us.
“Who told you that?”
“I heard Dominic.”
Victor muttered something under his breath.
I rubbed Finn’s back.
“There are grown-up problems happening. Your job is to let us handle them.”
“Is Dad gonna hurt somebody?”
Victor’s face tightened.
I refused to answer for him.
Finn looked at his father.
Victor slowly approached.
“No one is going to hurt you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I nearly laughed again.
Victor clearly didn’t find it funny.
He crouched.
“Finn, I’ve made mistakes.”
“Like making Harper cry?”
Victor glanced at me.
“Yes.”
“Say sorry.”
I froze.
Victor Rossi stared at his five-year-old son.
Finn waited.
Victor stood.
“Harper.”
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“You are not apologizing because a five-year-old ordered you to.”
Finn frowned.
“Why not?”
“Because apologies only count if someone chooses them.”
Victor studied me.
Then he said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
No sarcasm.
No excuse.
“I knew what would hurt you, and I said it anyway.”
I hadn’t expected that.
Neither had Finn.
Victor continued.
“You didn’t deserve it.”
I swallowed.
“Thank you.”
Finn looked pleased.
“Now hug.”
“Absolutely not,” Victor and I said simultaneously.
Finn giggled.
It was the first time he had laughed since the night before.
Victor stared at him.
His expression softened.
Then the front door opened downstairs.
Men began speaking.
Dominic appeared.
“Adrian’s here.”
Victor’s entire body changed.
“Why?”
“He says he wants to talk.”
“Send him away.”
“He brought something.”
“What?”
Dominic looked at me.
“A letter from Elena.”
Victor went completely still.
Five minutes later, Adrian Rossi entered the study.
He resembled Victor enough that nobody could mistake them for anything but brothers.
Same dark hair.
Same height.
Same dangerous stillness.
But Adrian smiled more easily.
That smile made me trust him less.
“So,” he said when he saw me. “You’re Harper.”
Victor moved between us.
“Don’t.”
Adrian lifted his hands.
“I came peacefully.”
“You had her photographed.”
Adrian’s smile disappeared.
“I did no such thing.”
“The sedan belongs to your company.”
“A company I sold eight months ago.”
Victor frowned.
“To whom?”
“Ask Dominic. He handled the paperwork.”
Silence.
Dominic’s face changed.
Victor turned slowly.
“You handled it?”
“I reviewed documents.”
Adrian laughed softly.
“This is why Dad always said you trusted the wrong people, Vic.”
Victor looked ready to kill him.
“Letter.”
Adrian removed an envelope from inside his coat.
Victor stared at the handwriting.
I watched color drain from his face.
“Elena gave this to me three days before she died,” Adrian said.
“Why would she give you anything?”
“Because she was afraid of you.”
Victor hit him.
It happened so fast I barely saw the movement.
Adrian crashed against the desk.
Finn screamed.
“Victor!”
I grabbed Finn and pulled him back.
Victor froze.
He looked at his son.
Finn was shaking.
Victor’s fist lowered.
Adrian wiped blood from his lip.
“That,” he said quietly, “is exactly what she was afraid of.”
“Get out.”
“Read the letter.”
“Get out!”
This time Victor did shout.
Finn covered his ears.
I immediately moved into the hallway with him.
“Anchor,” I whispered.
His breathing came too fast.
“Look at me.”
Behind us, the brothers continued arguing.
I shut the study door.
Finn pressed against me.
“Is Dad bad?”
That question again.
This time I couldn’t dodge it forever.
“Your dad does things I don’t understand.”
“Bad things?”
“Sometimes good people do bad things. Sometimes people who’ve done bad things still love someone very much.”
“Is Dad good?”
I looked through the door toward Victor.
“I think your dad is trying to figure that out.”
Later, Adrian left.
Victor remained alone in the study.
The envelope sat unopened on his desk.
Hours passed.
At midnight, I found him in the same chair.
“You haven’t read it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because dead people can’t explain themselves.”
I leaned against the doorway.
“Maybe that’s why they write letters.”
Victor looked exhausted.
“Adrian said Elena feared me.”
“Did she?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not true.”
His eyes lifted.
“You know whether your wife was afraid of you.”
His voice became rough.
“Near the end, she was afraid of everything.”
There it was.
The truth beginning to emerge.
“What happened?”
Victor stared at the envelope.
“She wanted me out.”
“Out of what?”
“The life.”
The words were barely audible.
“She wanted us to leave Chicago. Sell everything. Take Finn somewhere nobody knew our name.”
“And you refused.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought power kept them safe.”
His laugh contained no humor.
“Then she died.”
The room became silent.
Victor picked up the envelope.
His fingers trembled.
I had never seen his hands shake.
“Open it.”
He looked at me.
“Stay.”
It wasn’t an order.
That mattered.
He broke the seal.
The letter was several pages long.
Victor read silently.
Halfway through, his face changed.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
The letter wasn’t about fear of Victor.
Not exactly.
Elena had been afraid of the world surrounding him.
She wrote about Finn.
About wanting him to grow up without armed men in hallways.
Without learning that violence solved problems.
Without wondering whether police sirens meant his father wouldn’t come home.
Then came a sentence underlined twice.
If anything happens to me, do not blame yourself, Victor. But please don’t let grief turn you into the man you keep pretending you have to be. Finn needs his father more than this family needs a king.
I looked up.
Victor’s eyes were wet.
He didn’t cry.
Victor Rossi apparently didn’t know how.
“She knew,” he whispered.
“What?”
“That I’d become worse.”
I sat opposite him.
“You can become something else.”
“You think men like me change?”
“I think fathers can.”
His gaze met mine.
“And what do you think I am?”
The question carried more than one meaning.
I answered carefully.
“I think you’re a man who loves his son so much that you’re terrified to let him see it.”
Victor looked away.
Then I noticed something on the final page.
A name.
Dominic.
I read the paragraph again.
Dominic keeps telling me Adrian is dangerous, but something about him scares me. He knows where Victor is every hour of every day. If we ever leave, Victor must not tell him where we go.
My blood chilled.
“Victor.”
He read it.
Then read it again.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Victor immediately stood.
The study door opened.
Dominic appeared.
“Everything okay?”
Victor folded the letter.
“Yes.”
Dominic’s eyes moved between us.
Then he smiled.
“Good.”
He left.
Victor waited until his footsteps disappeared.
Then he whispered three words.
“Pack Finn’s things.”
“Why?”
Victor looked toward the door.
“Because we’re leaving before Dominic realizes we know.”