Page 110 of Once Upon a Lie

Fuck.

The SWAT guys move their conversation to some random bullshit that has them laughing, and I can hardly focus on the last two pages of paperwork Tracy is waiting for me to sign.

My hand shakes, and the signature goes crooked across the second-to-last page.

Tracy notices. “You need a minute, honey?”

“No.” I clear my throat and force my hand to finish the last line. “I’m good.”

But I’m not okay. My mind is already sprinting ahead, already trying to connect dots that don’t want to connect. If Tommy and Damon are the ones laundering money through her shop, and if the case is over, why in the fuck is SWAT pulling overtime for a Cordone Freight gala?

If it’s handled, why are they bracing for something big enough to warrant a team that kicks down doors?

And where does that leave Valentina? Walking into a room filled with her father’s world while it could be a trapdoor?

The thought hits me so hard it makes my stomach turn.

I slide the folder back to Tracy. “All set.”

She flips through it quickly. “Okay. I’ll get this filed. Thanks, Shane.”

“No problem.”

I turn away from her desk and walk out of the bullpen like I’m made of glass.

Out into the hallway, I stop with my shoulder against the wall and stare at nothing.

Because I feel fucking helpless. I can’t call her. I can’t show up. I can’t warn her without exposing everything and getting her hurt in a different way.

And apparently I can’t even trust that this is truly over.

Sure, I have no certified proof of anything. It’s possible that Tommy Cordone has simply requested SWAT to protect his precious fucking gala because he knows the criminal shit he’s hiding beneath his billion-dollar company.

Mike and his Fed goons kept me enough in the dark about the case as a whole that I don’t have enough intel to make educated assumptions about what’s going down.

But fuck, I can’t shake the feeling that something is off—that Valentina Cordone might be walking into something a lot worse than heartbreak at that gala Saturday night.

40

Valentina

Thursday, November 4

6:00 p.m.

Alfred tucks the blanket higher under my chin and sets a warm cup of tea on the coffee table in front of me. I curl deeper into a ball, and Pip scoots up from the end of the couch to stay touching my feet.

My phone buzzes against the cushion beside me, and I hate how quickly I scramble to look at it. To see who it’s from. But the name on the screen makes my heart plummet to my feet.

Nico: ​​How’s it going, Teeny?​​

I frown.

It’s not like my brother to check in without a reason, but surely he’s just trying to find another way to force a meeting with the mystery guy I said I was sort of dating.

Great news, Nico! You don’t need to worry about him, because he’s gone!

I toss my phone back onto the cushion without answering.