“If he went to Corrado, he’s already behind closed doors,” Vincent finished.

We stood there in the quiet room for several minutes.

The only sound was the steady patter of the storm.

I thought of my mother’s locket, the only thing I had left of her.

Paul knew how much it meant to me.

He had threatened to melt it down once when he was drunk.

Now it was in his pocket, a bargaining chip.

“What will Corrado do if Paul offers him information?” I asked.

Vincent looked at his phone on the table.

“Corrado will listen,” he said. “Then he will verify.”

“And then?”

“Then he will try to take what I have,” Vincent said.

He walked over to his desk and pulled out a small drawer.

He took out a silver key and unlocked a lower cabinet.

Inside was a heavy black pistol.

He didn’t pick it up, but he stared at it for a moment.

“I promised your father I would keep you safe, Lena,” he said softly.

“I know,” I said.

“That promise becomes very expensive if your husband starts talking,” he said.