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Nodding, I keep my mouth shut. I’m not stupid. I know that wasn’t an empty threat.
“Let’s figure this shit out. I already gave Felix everything my lawyer has. The evidence is shitty—just a picture of me and Francis on the boat with an edited timestamp at the bottom. All we have to do is prove that it’s doctored, and I’m in the clear.”
“Jesus. That’s it?”
Alex nods. “They seem to be getting desperate. Rightly so. The shit on that hard drive would be enough if it wasn’t for Tristan’s connections. Sometimes I hate this goddamned country.”
A while back, we got close to getting David and Tristan arrested and put away for good. But Tristan is the grandson of a senator, and apparently that practically gives you immunity here. At the last moment, the FBI were called off, and we were barely given an explanation as to why.
It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.
“They can’t keep this quiet forever,” I say. “I don’t care how many tricks they have up their sleeves. They won’t get away with this.”
“We need to be careful.” Alex leans against the wall, his eyes sliding shut. He looks exhausted—god knows how much sleep he’s gotten over the past couple days. “If they’re getting desperate, that means they’re getting more dangerous.”
“Let’s just make sure you don’t end up in prison first.”
BY THE TIME SOPHIA comes downstairs, it’s dark. Felix left a while ago, claiming he needed to get to the office and get to work proving Alex’s innocence.
Well, at least disproving the evidence Tristan has against him. Because in truth, Alex is a far cry from innocent.
We hash out the details of our plan: keep Alex out of jail, tail David and Tristan’s men until we can find where they’re operating out of (something conveniently left off the hard drive), and blackmail David’s maid into helping us break into his house.
It’ll give us more evidence—an overwhelming amount. And then from there, we have a few options:
The first is to release everything to a variety of news outlets. If the authorities won’t take action, an angry push from the public will force their hand.
The second is to kill Tristan. If we do that, then there’s nothing stopping the authorities from going after David and putting an end to their operations.
The third is to take care of everything ourselves. Since the authorities have already been so little help, we might have to, but it won’t be an easy cover up. Nor do we have the resources or proper knowledge to help all the people they’ve trafficked.
We’re leaning toward option one—well, Dom and I were. Alex and Felix were gunning for option two. And to be honest, after getting the full scoop on what Tristan did to Soph, it sounds more appealing by the second.
But right now, my first priority is keeping Brooke safe. And getting her home. She hasn’t sat down all night. Either she’s been pacing or standing by the mantel, staring out the window with a haunted look in her eyes.
What I’d do to erase it forever.
Thankfully, Brooke doesn’t protest when I suggest going home. We say our goodbyes, and by the time we get into the car, I’m officially worried.
“What’s wrong?” I reach over the console and slide my hand over Brooke’s thigh.
She sighs. “This is just a lot. Why would Tristan try to pin a murder on Alex when he didn’t do it? And all he gave the authorities was a photo? That’s not a lot of evidence.”
He probably hoped the police had other evidence against him.
“They’re desperate,” I say, copying Alex’s words. “But don’t worry. We’re going to take care of it.”
She lets out a small hum. We don’t speak again during the drive, and when we get home, we enter the house silently. The alarm beeps, and she enters in the code before scooping Angel into her arms.
“I think I’m ready for bed.”
I nod. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” She turns, standing on her tip toes and giving me a small kiss. “Try to get some sleep tonight, okay?”
I shrug. I’m exhausted, but there’s no way I’ll be able to fall asleep.
She heads for the stairs, but I follow her.
