Regina looked nothing like the woman who had screamed at me in Bellarosa’s hallway.
Her makeup was gone.
Her hair hung loose around her face.
One heel was broken.
There was a bruise across her cheek.
For a few seconds, I didn’t recognize her.
Then she looked at me.
“Emma.”
Every terrible memory came rushing back.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I had nowhere else.”
“You had Tony.”
Her face crumpled.
“That’s why I’m here.”
Vincent stood beside the fireplace.
Marco remained near the door.
Two guards waited outside.
Nobody had let Regina inside casually.
She took one step toward me.
I stepped back.
She stopped.
Good.
At least she understood that much.
“Tony thinks I kept something from him.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
The word hung in the room.
Vincent’s voice was calm.
“What?”
Regina looked at him.
“You’ll protect me?”
“No.”
Her face drained.
“You said—”
“I said you could speak without Tony’s people entering my property. I didn’t promise anything beyond that.”
She looked at me.
“Emma, please.”
“You tried to sell me.”
“I was desperate.”
“You told men to drag me out by my hair.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You always mean it until somebody stronger walks into the room.”
She flinched.
I had imagined confronting Regina hundreds of times.
In every version, I screamed.
I cried.
I demanded an apology.
Standing in front of her now, I felt something stranger.
Distance.
She had spent so long making herself enormous in my life.
Suddenly, she looked small.
“What did you keep from Tony?”
Regina swallowed.
“A ledger.”
Vincent became completely still.
Marco looked at him.
“What kind of ledger?”
Regina hugged her arms around herself.
“Payments. Property deals. Names. Amounts. Tony writes things down because he trusts paper more than computers.”
“Where is it?”
“I hid it.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
I almost laughed.
“You helped him ruin people and kept evidence in case he turned on you.”
Regina’s eyes filled with tears.
“I knew eventually he would.”
“You still helped him.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
She started crying.
For years, tears had worked on my father.
They had worked on landlords.
Creditors.
Friends.
Not tonight.
“Where is the ledger?”
I asked.
Regina looked at Vincent.
He said nothing.
“It’s in your father’s old hardware store.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“There was a loose floorboard beneath the office desk. Your father used to hide emergency cash there.”
I knew the board.
Dad kept spare keys under it.
“I put the ledger there before Tony took over the property.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Why hasn’t Tony found it?”
“He doesn’t know about the compartment.”
Marco spoke.
“He will now.”
Regina’s face changed.
“Why?”
“You came here.”
She went pale.
“They followed me?”
“Assume they did.”
Vincent turned to Marco.
“Get surveillance footage from the road.”
I stepped forward.
“The ledger could prove everything.”
Vincent looked at me.
“It could also be bait.”
“She’s lying?”
“I don’t know.”
Regina shook her head violently.
“I’m not.”
“You have before,” I said.
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
The admission surprised me.
Then she whispered, “Your father knew.”
I froze.
“Knew what?”
“That I was stealing.”
The room disappeared around me.
“What?”
“Not everything. At first.”
Regina’s voice shook.
“He found a credit card I opened in his name. We fought. He told me he was changing the will.”
My stomach turned.
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
Vincent’s gaze sharpened.
Regina continued.
“He left almost everything to you.”
I already knew I was the legal heir.
But something in her tone warned me there was more.
“What did you do?”
She looked at the floor.
“I hid the new will.”
My breath caught.
“You told me Dad left no updated will.”
“I lied.”
My eyes burned.
“Where is it?”
“I destroyed my copy.”
I lunged forward before I knew I was moving.
Vincent caught my arm—not hard, just enough.
“Emma.”
“She burned my father’s will!”
Regina cried harder.
“I was scared!”
“You were greedy!”
“Yes!”
The scream shocked all of us.
Regina pressed both hands to her face.
“Yes. I was greedy. I was jealous. Your father loved you in a way he never loved me, and every time he looked at you, I knew if he had to choose, he would choose you.”
My voice became cold.
“He was my father.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
I pulled away from Vincent.
“I spent years believing Dad left chaos behind. I thought he trusted you. I thought maybe I had disappointed him somehow.”
“You didn’t.”
Regina’s voice broke.
“He was proud of you.”
Tears finally slipped down my face.
“You don’t get to tell me that.”
She nodded miserably.
“You’re right.”
The silence lasted a long time.
Then Vincent asked, “Who witnessed the new will?”
Regina looked up.
“Samuel Rosen.”
I stared.
“Dad’s attorney.”
“Is he alive?”
Vincent asked.
“Yes.”
Claire was on the phone within minutes.
By midnight, she confirmed Samuel Rosen had retired to Florida.
By one in the morning, she had reached him.
He remembered the will.
He had a certified copy.
For the first time, Regina’s story had produced something true.
The next question was the ledger.
Vincent wanted professionals to retrieve it.
I refused.
“It’s my father’s store.”
“It’s Tony’s property for now.”
“Fraudulently.”
“That distinction will not stop his men.”
“I know the building.”
“So?”
“So I know an old basement entrance through the neighboring alley.”
Vincent stared at me.
“No.”
“You promised not to order me around.”
“I changed my mind.”
“That isn’t how promises work.”
“Apparently neither are six-year-old engagements, yet here we are.”
Even Marco looked impressed.
I pointed at Vincent.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll go without you.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That is the worst argument you could have made.”
“Why?”
“Because now I know you’re reckless enough to attempt it.”
I crossed my arms.
Regina whispered, “You two sound married.”
We both turned.
She looked away.
At four in the morning, we had a plan.
Not a good plan.
But a legal one.
Claire contacted investigators.
They obtained an emergency warrant connected to the fraud evidence and the possibility that records were being destroyed.
Law enforcement would enter through the front.
I would not be going inside.
That was the agreement.
At six thirty, I stood across the street from Dad’s old hardware store.
The sign was gone.
TONY’S PROPERTY MANAGEMENT covered the front windows.
I hated it.
Vincent stood beside me.
“You don’t have to watch.”
“Yes, I do.”
Police vehicles turned the corner.
Investigators approached the door.
Then smoke appeared from the second-floor window.
“No.”
I stepped toward the street.
Vincent caught my elbow.
“Stay here.”
“They’re burning it!”
Fire alarms started screaming.
One investigator shouted.
People moved.
A side door burst open.
A man ran into the alley carrying a black leather book.
“Vincent!”
“I see him.”
Everything happened quickly.
Marco and two security men moved.
Police shouted commands.
The runner stopped when he realized both exits were blocked.
He dropped the ledger.
Nobody fired.
Nobody needed to.
Ten minutes later, the fire department entered.
The fire had been started in an office trash bin.
It was contained before the building suffered major damage.
The black ledger survived.
I watched Claire turn pages at the precinct later that morning.
Her expression became more serious with each one.
“This is bigger than your property.”
“How much bigger?”
“Extortion. Fraud. Bribery. Illegal loans. Payoffs.”
Vincent stood across the room.
Claire tapped one page.
“And Regina’s name appears repeatedly.”
Regina sat in another interview room.
I felt no satisfaction.
Only exhaustion.
“Will she go to prison?”
“Possibly.”
“Even if she cooperates?”
“That will matter.”
“What about Tony?”
Claire looked at me.
“This could put him away for a long time.”
I should have felt relief.
Instead, I looked toward the window.
“What?”
Vincent asked.
“I keep waiting.”
“For what?”
“For something else to happen.”
His expression softened.
“That feeling takes time.”
“How do you know?”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
For the first time, I wondered how many years Vincent had spent expecting doors to open with bad news behind them.
That evening, Noah ran toward me the second we returned.
“You’re back!”
He wrapped both arms around my waist.
I held him tightly.
“Yes.”
“Did you fight bad guys?”
“No.”
He looked disappointed.
“Lawyers did.”
“That’s boring.”
“Very.”
Vincent walked past us.
Noah whispered, “Dad was worried.”
“I know.”
“He gets quiet when he’s worried.”
I looked at Vincent’s back.
“Your father is quiet most of the time.”
“Exactly.”
That night, I found him alone in the kitchen.
“Noah says you were worried.”
“He talks too much.”
“He gets that from you.”
Vincent looked offended.
I smiled.
Then the smile faded.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For helping me without turning this into something I owed you.”
His gaze held mine.
“You don’t owe me.”
“I know.”
That answer mattered.
I stepped closer.
“So why are you helping me?”
He was silent for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer.
Then:
“Because when I imagine you leaving this house, I dislike the thought more than I should.”
My breath caught.
“Vincent.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
He took one slow step forward.
“Then tell me.”
My heart hammered.
“You are the worst possible person for me to become attached to.”
“I’m aware.”
“You terrify half the city.”
“Less than half.”
“This is not helping.”
His eyes warmed.
“I’m trying.”
“You have enemies.”
“Yes.”
“You have a six-year-old who thinks marriage is a rescue operation.”
“That is your fault now.”
I laughed.
And then Vincent touched my face.
Not possessively.
Not suddenly.
His fingertips brushed my cheek like he was asking permission.
I didn’t move away.
He leaned toward me.
The kiss was soft.
Almost careful.
Which was the last thing I expected from Vincent Moretti.
When it ended, neither of us spoke.
Then Noah’s sleepy voice came from the doorway.
“Does this mean the wedding is back on?”
I covered my face.
Vincent looked toward the ceiling.
“Noah.”
“What?”
“Bed.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Noah shuffled away.
Before disappearing, he looked at me and gave an enormous thumbs-up.