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“I’m trying to have fun,” he grumbled.
“You are acting like an asshole.” Matteo’s scowl deepened. I didn’t get what the fuck crawled up his ass. After all, I was the one whose life was currently in shambles.
But I couldn’t even have that to myself. Matteo was trying to co-opt my upset for his own devices.
“Did you look at the USB?”
I sighed and downed the scotch that I’d stolen from him. I slid the empty glass back to the bartender. “Don’t serve him,” I snapped. “He’s underage.”
Matteo snorted, but he didn’t argue with me.
“I looked at it,” I grumbled.
I hadn’t been able to help myself. The moment that I returned home, I’d gone through all the information Matteo got for me. Sometimes, I had to hand it to my brother. He was smarter than we all gave him credit for. Carla’s father might have thought he scrubbed everything from the media, but Matteo was able to dig up information that even Moreno didn’t have access to.
And there had been a lot.
I was still trying to process all of it, especially the police report. The detective on the case clearly wasn’t sure how Carla was connected to her mother and brother’s murders, but he was sure that she was involved in some way.
After reading the police report, I could see why. Carla’s memory was allegedly screwed up, which made sense considering the number of drugs she’d been on, but the detective thought it odd that she was left mostly unscathed.
I agreed. Knowing what I knew about the cartel, if they had been behind this, they would not have allowed her to survive.
“And?”
“And nothing.” I wanted nothing more than to get another drink, but our father was looking over at us with narrowed eyes.
These past few weeks, he’d mostly left me alone, but I knew that my father was always watching. It wouldn’t surprise me if he knew that Carla and I had hooked up.
“Don’t tell me that you aren’t pissed. Mom and Dad potentially allowed a murderer in our home,” he hissed.
My brow rose, and I looked at my brother with a slightly sardonic smile. “Are you serious?” Our father was a murderer. Just because he dressed himself up in a suit and went to an office in a high-rise didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten his hands stained with blood.
“I’m not going to discuss this with you,” I told my brother.
Matteo shook his head. “I knew you were going to say some shit like that. I was worried you’d bury your head in the sand on this.”
“I’m not burying anything.” And I wasn’t. Yes, Carla and I were attached in a way that was more than just me watching her on behalf of the family, but I wasn’t stupid. As the spare to the Blanchi empire, I did not have the luxury of just ignoring the evidence Matteo accumulated.
“Seems like you are.”
I rolled my eyes, fully prepared to leave my brother to his own devices until I caught Ingrid rushing toward us. Her eyes were wide, and she upset.
“Are you alright?” My back was straight with a bit of fear, and immediately, I began looking around for Luca. I hadn’t seen him, but I wasn’t surprised that he was hiding somewhere. He still didn’t love Ezra Wright, and even I couldn’t fault him on that one considering their past. “Let me find Luca.”
Even Matteo was at attention. By dating Luca, Ingrid was one of us, and it was our job to protect her.
“I don’t need Luca.” She shook me off. “I’m looking for you.”
“Me?” Ingrid and I were more friendly than I was with most people, but at the same time, I kept her at bay. I wasn’t the person who she would turn to when things were difficult.
Ingrid nodded. Her hands were tangled in her dress, and she couldn’t sit still. “Are you alright?” If I didn’t know better, I would be worried that Ingrid was on something. That’s how antsy she’d become.
“It’s about Carla.”
As though I’d been zapped with a taser, I felt myself jerk even further upright. Looking around, I realized that Carla was nowhere in the room, and I would know if she were. That golden dress of hers, which hugged her body like a second skin, was like a beacon to my eyes.
“What happened?”
