“So he let me leave so they wouldn’t corner me at the estate,” I said.

“He let you run because he couldn’t protect you under his own roof anymore,” Luca said. “But he isn’t going to let you go without a safety net.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Marcus has been liquidating his legitimate holdings,” Luca said. “The real estate. The overseas funds that have nothing to do with the docks or the clubs.”

I watched Luca’s face, looking for any sign of a lie in his tired eyes.

“He wants to give it to you,” Luca said. “All of it. Legally. Clean money.”

“I don’t want his money,” I said.

“You’ll need it,” Luca said. “For the child. For a life where you don’t have to look over your shoulder every ten seconds.”

The burner phone buzzed again on the table, the vibrations rattling against the old wood.

The screen lit up with another message.

This time, there was no name, just a string of geographic coordinates.

“What is that?” Luca asked, leaning forward.

“Coordinates,” I said, reading the digits on the small screen.