Page 130 of When We Were Us

Jonah's eyes met mine, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. "You're not going to like this."

I clenched my jaw, gesturing towards my office. "I don't like it already. My office. Now."

As we walked, the sound of Jonah's chewing grated on my nerves. I closed the heavy wooden door behind us, watching as my brother tossed the peel into the garbage can by my desk. He sprawled across my leather couch, stretching his arms along the back and crossing his jean-clad legs as if he owned the place.

I remained standing, my posture rigid. "This isn't a fun gathering, and you're not a guest. Spill it and get out."

Jonah's casual demeanor faltered for a moment. "Antonio Caruso knew our father."

I frowned, my hand unconsciously moving to stroke the stubble on my chin. "What do you mean 'knew'?"

"Our father was in bed with Caruso," Jonah said, his voice unnervingly calm.

My frown deepened. "In bed how? I don't remember our father being anything but an honest businessman."

Jonah leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "And so was Ryleigh's, but he was dirty too. Our father was in debt, and he borrowed some money from Caruso to get out of it."

I shook my head, disbelief coursing through me. "I don't believe that. The estate was in the plus when he died, enough to pay most of my tuition and the mortgage on the house."

"That might be," Jonah conceded, "but Dad had a problem. He liked to overspend."

I sank into my black leather chair, my mind racing back to those final years. The new sports cars, the constant trips, the lavish meals... Had it all been a facade?

"But we were solvent," I muttered, more to myself than to Jonah. "I saw the final figures."

Jonah shrugged. "Maybe he pulled something out in those last few months."

My eyes narrowed. "How did you find this shit out while you were lurking around and hiding?"

A bitter smile played on Jonah's lips. "You'd be surprised who you meet when people are in the same boat as you. Caruso wants revenge for Raphael."

Anger flared within me. "Fuck him. He almost killed me, and the only reason his ass isn't in jail was because he was in Italy at the time. The police have no evidence he was involved."

Jonah’s voice dropping to a near-whisper. "He was involved, and he wasn't in Italy until three days before."

"Two weeks," I corrected automatically.

"Three days," Jonah insisted. "He was in St. Croix helping with the planning."

The truth hit me like a physical blow. "That motherfucker," I spat. "He isn't going to destroy what we've been trying to build. Our marriage is better, and I won't let him interfere."

Jonah stood, wiping his hands on his black t-shirt. "I just wanted you to know."

As he turned to leave, I called out, "Hey, do you need anything?"

He paused, his hand on the doorknob. "This time, no. I've been working on a few things. Me and a couple of buddies from the construction crew got together a fishing outfit. We just started tours."

I felt a flicker of concern. "What about Caruso? He still wants a piece of you."

Jonah's shoulders straightened, a newfound determination in his voice. "Fuck him. It's time I stopped being afraid. If he wants to come after me, then let him."

"I can protect you," I offered, surprising myself with the sincerity in my voice.

Jonah shook his head. "I don't want protection. I want to live my life. Too much bullshit over the past twenty years. I'm done. I can't blame you or our parents or anyone else for my behavior. It was all me. I'm finished with that shit." He paused, then added, "I heard you're selling the island."

I sighed heavily, the weight of recent events pressing down on me. "I had to sell the island after what happened. There was no way Ryleigh would ever go back."

Jonah's eyes softened, a hint of understanding in his gaze. "She's good for you, Oliver. Don't let her go."

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