She’s nervous but not lying.
I glance at Audrey. “So, Sal wasn’t just in it for the money. And he wasn’t just upset that you’ve let me possess you.”
Chrissy’s cheeks go pink at my frank claim. A fire lights in Audrey’s eyes—one that, I’m sure if we were alone, she’d let me smother by putting her under me.
"He wanted the keys," she says. "Not the vault. The money was bait. The accounts... how you fund everything, Konstantin... that’s what he really wanted. Sal knows now how to bring down your operations from the ground up."
That name on her lips makes something inside me snap taut. I move closer, lowering my voice as I lean over her, hands braced on the back of the couch.
"You could have told me this sooner."
"I didn’t know. I swear. I thought he just wanted the money."
"You think I need proof to burn someone alive?"
Chrissy makes a quiet noise and stands.
"I should go."
"Yes," I say.
Audrey gives me a glare but doesn’t stop her friend. They murmur quietly to one another, a familiar rhythm to the quiet conversation that I can read from here: Chrissy regrets telling me. Or at least, being in the middle of Audrey and I. Audrey is reassuring her. Chrissy is scared anyway.
As she should be.
I’m not known for forgiving mistakes, and Chrissy letting someone get into the Petrovia file is a mistake.
Once the door clicks shut behind the accountant, I let the silence stretch
Audrey looks at me, jaw tight, matching me inch for inch.
"Sal started asking questions about the Spire right after I borrowed the money. Not just about what I did, but who I reported to. What systems I had access to. He made it seem like he just wanted the money, but..."
"He wanted intel."
She nods. "I think he was a middleman."
I watch her closely, trying to gauge just how much she knows versus how much she suspects. " “You think this has something to do with Giuseppe."
Audrey doesn’t flinch at the name. Brave, this one.
“It doesn’t.”
“…How do you know?”
She doesn’t move from the doorway between the foyer and the living room. She’s tense, holding her body as if she’s expecting Sal to appear at any moment; as if she’s back in his destructive, manipulative path.
It’s clear how much her Nana meant to her. I can’t imagine losing someone who raised and truly loved you, only to be taken advantage of in the throes of grief.
She crosses to the kitchen and pours herself water. Her hands are shaking. She’s trying to hide it, but I see everything.
"Why didn’t you tell me he was pressuring you?"
Audrey scoffs. "Before all of…” she gestures between us, at her belly, “this? Because I didn’t want to be a pawn again. I wanted to fix it, and I thought he’d stop when he got his money back."
"You can’t fix what you don’t control."
She turns. "I did control it. That’s why I let Duscha catch me."
