Page 55 of The Cost of Silence

I lean back in my chair, exhaling slowly. “She thinks she was the one poking the beast,” I murmur. “But someone pointed her right at it.”

Matteo frowns. “You think the original tip came from Domenico?”

“It fits,” I say. “He feeds her enough breadcrumbs to get our name in the papers, taint the company, make us look dirty, weaken our position. Orlov takes the opportunity to come at us sideways while we’re busy doing damage control. When she doesn’t back down, they escalate. Car, apartment, fire.”

“And now?” Adi asks.

“Now the girl is in our house,” Matteo says. “Protected. And for the first time, they’re on the back foot. They don’t know what you know.” Matteo clears his throat, unusually hesitant, fingers drumming against the table instead of spinning the chair like he usually does. “There’s something else. I, uh… found something at Dad’s place,” he says finally.

I look up sharply. Matteo only hesitates like that when something is seriously wrong.

Adi stills too. “Found what?”

Matteo reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, folded square of yellowed newsprint. He places it on the table. Even from across the counter, I recognize the brittle edges, the way time has browned it.

Adi leans forward first. “Is this…”

“An obituary,” Matteo says quietly, gaze flicking to me. “For Marcus Romano.”

Isabella’s father. My stomach drops. “Where did you get this?” I ask, voice low.

Matteo swallows. “In Dad’s study. Back behind the old cigar humidor, where he kept the stuff he didn’t want us or Mom to find.” He hesitates again. “It wasn’t filed with business things. It was separate. Hidden.”

Adi frowns, pulling the paper closer. “Why would Dad keep this?”

Matteo shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it bothered me. Dad didn’t keep clippings unless something about them mattered.”

My jaw tightens. Hard. “And you’re sure he didn’t know the Romanos personally?”

“Not that I ever heard,” Matteo says. “But look,” he taps the top edge of the clipping, “this was trimmed down. The corners cut. Like someone saved just the part they cared about.”

A thread pulls tight in my chest.

Adi exhales, brows furrowed. “Romano died in what, some kind of unsolved mugging? Wrong place, wrong time?”

“That’s what the reports said,” Matteo mutters. “But Dad didn’t collect strangers’ obituaries.”

The silence stretches.

Charged. Sharp. A crack in the foundation.

I fight to keep my voice even. “You think there’s a connection.”

Matteo doesn’t flinch. “I think it’s strange timing that Isabella’s being targeted, that someone fed her a story about us, and suddenly her family name is showing up in our father’s hidden files.”

Adi closes the clipping gently, like it’s something alive. “It could be nothing. Or it could be the start of something we don’t want to look at.”

I stare at the brittle square of paper.

If this clipping has anything to do with why she’s in danger now… If her father’s death wasn’t random… If this goes deeper, then how can I start something with her, even if it’s just a fling? Am I being selfish here, keeping this from her? Or am I protecting her from something which might be nothing?

A cold, sharp certainty slices through me. “We keep this between us,” I say quietly. “Isabella doesn’t hear a word.”

My brothers nod immediately.

“Not until we know what the hell it means,” Matteo adds.

“And not until we know why Dad kept it,” Adi finishes.