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“You said you’d meet me here. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Cristina. I’m taking a risk too.”

“Why can’t we just talk here?”

“Because I’m not alone.”

He turns to the car. I follow his gaze to the passenger side window. It slides halfway down and sitting inside is, of all people, my uncle.21Damian“Is everything ready?”

“Just waiting on your call.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

I climb into the SUV and we head to the restaurant where I’ll meet Arthur Clementi at his request. The old man claims to have information for me. If it’s what I think it is, he will have bought leniency for his sons. I wonder if my dad would do for me what he’s doing for his boys.

No, no need to wonder.

I know that answer.

The restaurant is about an hour out of town. Only three other cars occupy spaces in the parking lot. It’s closed this time of day and when I walk inside, I find the dining room empty but for the table in the back where Arthur is seated. At a quick count, I see he has the agreed upon number of men who are standing not so discreetly around the room.

He’s scared.

That’s good.

Tobias and his men fan out and Clementi stands.

“Arthur,” I say in greeting once I reach the table. He’s aged since I last saw him and now looks every bit his seventy-five years.

“Damian.”

He extends his hand. This is good. I take it, gripping it firmly.

“Thank you for coming,” he says.

“The men who set the fire are dead,” I tell him. He turned them over himself. Men who worked for his sons. A gesture of goodwill, or so he called it.

“Short life spans in our business,” he says casually.

“Not for all of us, I hope.” I wonder if the soldiers working for him know how easily they will be sacrificed if it comes to that.

“Listen, Damian, my boys—”

“Are not boys but men.”

“They made a mistake. I—”

“I assume I’m here because you have information you believe I’ll want?”

I had a gut feeling about the contents of that container not belonging to the Clementi family. I’d been right. Arthur has left the running of the business to his sons for just over a year now. They’ve managed to fuck it up royally.

Of course, that’s my opinion, but I can tell you after this, they’ll be out of business. In fact, they’ll be lucky to walk away at all. Well, hobble away.

In this case, his sons had made the arrangements without their father’s knowledge. When things went south, they asked him to lie and told him it was life or death. And it will be if the information Arthur gathered doesn’t line up with what I’m thinking. Just not old man Clementi’s life. I’ll take one of his boys. They can decide which one between them.

I remember Lucas suggesting the same thing just a few days ago, but if Clementi confirms my suspicion then I have bigger fish to fry.

Clementi raises a finger, and one of the men—I guess his attorney because he’s definitely not the muscle—steps forward and produces a folder.

“Thank you,” Clementi says, and the man steps away. He passes the folder to me, and I open it.

“Cash trail. Your enemy is much closer to home than me or my family, Damian. My sons were used.”

“Your sons let themselves be used,” I say as I leaf through the pages. I’ve known about my enemies being close to home for a long time. This just confirms it. “I appreciate you being up front with me, Arthur.” I close the folder and stand.

He reaches out to place his age-spotted hand over mine. “I gave you the information. I condemn what they did. Let me punish them. My sons—”

“I will punish your sons, but their lives will be spared. I gave you my word and you know I’m good for it.”

I hope he won’t stoop to begging. My answer won’t change, and he’ll only humiliate himself.

He nods his head. “I trust your word. Thank you, Damian.”

I gesture to Tobias. A moment later, I’m back in the SUV.

“Where’s my brother?”22CristinaI meet my uncle’s eyes as soon as I’m on the sidewalk. “Uncle Adam?”

“We should get off the street before anyone sees us together. Get in the car. It’s safe,” my uncle says.

I turn from him to Lucas and back. “With him?”

He nods.

“Are you sure?”

“Please, Cristina. We don’t have much time.”

Lucas opens the back door and after a moment’s hesitation, I climb in. Although I’m not sure it is safe because I’m not sure I trust my uncle. But I need to hear what Lucas has to say.

As soon as he closes the door, I lean toward the front seat. “What’s going on? Why are you here with him?”

“We’ll talk soon,” he says, half-turning his head, the look on his face worried. I notice he has a few more grays around his temples and the line between his eyebrows seems to have deepened.

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