Page 292 of Ricardo

Mario says, “Her phone is still unaccounted for. Likely with police or in the apartment.”

Roberto looks displeased. “Find it before the police decide it is evidence someone else deserves to interpret.”

“I have people on it,” Lorenzo says.

Roberto’s gaze moves to him. “We can help.”

Lorenzo’s face remains pleasant. “I am sure we can share.”

Diego murmurs, “Family already.”

Roberto glances at him, smiling now. “Careful. I bill by the hour.”

Diego’s eyebrows lift. “For relatives?”

“Especially for relatives.”

The exchange would almost be amusing in any other room, on any other day, with my son anywhere but a hospital bed.

Vito does not smile.

Neither do I.

His eyes settle on me again. “You want Harrison.”

“Yes.”

“You want him dead?”

Mario turns his head toward me.

Vito ignores the movement and waits for my answer.

I could lie.

There would be no point.

“Eventually.”

A slow, terrifying smile moves across Vito's face.

For the first time, I see the man inside. And for one second, I feel the sheer terror of being the man that smile is meant for.

“I think that can be arranged,” Vito says.

“But not right away,” Roberto says. “For the moment, I strongly suggest you do not touch him.”

I'm getting really sick of people telling me that.

Roberto continues. “Harrison Winthrop is protected by a family apparatus designed to absorb scandal, redirect blame, and punish anyone who threatens the name. If he vanishes, bleeds, or dies in a way that points toward you, the Winthrops will not need proof. All they will need is a narrative. Organized crime pursuing a political family over a woman’s accusation gives them one.”

My hands curl beneath the table.

“So we do not give them that,” Roberto says. “We give them something they cannot survive so easily or quietly.”

Lorenzo leans forward. “Such as?”

Roberto taps the folder once. “Pattern.”