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“Except some files are missing. Most of the ones I need.”
I looked over where her fingers pointed at one of the pages. “Pertaining to Platinum Holdings. I’ve never heard of it.” Which was strange. I knew all the major players in my city.
She slapped her hand down. “I’m not discussing it with you. Why are you here?”
“You were attacked.” I fought hard not to show the simmering anger inside me. I’d replay the image of someone shooting at her in my head for years to come. “I figured I’d ask a few questions.”
She just stared at me.
“London?”
“You’re…looking out for me?”
I hated that she sounded so surprised. “Doesn’t anyone look out for you?”
“It’s just me and my sister, and I look out for her.”
Ah, the oldest sister, and overachiever. That made sense. Dante was the same way, even though he was the second oldest of us after Beau.
“My mom died when my sister Lexxie was sixteen. She stayed with me until she turned eighteen and graduated.”
I pressed a hand over hers. “That’s admirable, London. It’s a big responsibility. I admire you. My brothers and I were in foster care, and when our situation turned…untenable, we had each other. We left, and made new lives for ourselves.”
Her gaze moved over my face. “Foster care was bad for you?”
“Very bad.” I looked away. “What about your father?” The one who got lured into crime.
She stiffened. “He’s been out of the picture since I was nine. When he went to prison. We didn’t need him. My mom was amazing.”
I lowered my voice. “What happened to her?”
“Heart failure.” London shook her head and looked back at the files. “I need to do more digging on Platinum Holdings.”
“I can help.”
There was a spark in her light-brown eyes. “I…can’t.”
“London, you’ve been investigating me for weeks. You know I’m not laundering money.”
She pushed a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“I have better resources and connections. I want to help.” I stroked her fingers. “Let me help.”
“You’re too used to getting your own way.”
Her words hit me. “Because once upon a time, I never got my way. Ever.”
“Kavner…” She wrapped her hand around mine and squeezed. “It was that bad?”
“Not always. And even at its worst, foster care was better than living on the streets.”
Her eyes widened. “You lived on the streets?”
It was something I never shared with anybody. Only my brothers knew. “For several years.”
“That’s not mentioned anywhere.”
“And I work hard to keep it that way.”
