“I left a file with my associate.”

Nico smiled, a small, cruel curve of his lips.

“You mean the file in your desk drawer at your office on Walnut Street?”

“My men visited your office an hour ago, Denise.”

“They took the spare keys and the digital backups.”

Denise gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

The isolation of the cellar felt heavier now, pressing down on us like the tons of brick above.

I looked at the leather folder, then at Nico’s dark, calm eyes.

“What do you want, Nico?” I asked.

“If you wanted to kill us, you would have done it when you walked in.”

Nico took a slow breath, letting the gun rest at his side.

“You are smarter than your mother was, Harper,” he said.

“She was emotional.”

“She tried to fight my father with ethics and tears.”

“You fought with patience and silence.”

He leaned against a support pillar, his gaze steady.

“I am a businessman,” Nico said.

“I look at costs and benefits.”

“Right now, the cost of dealing with two bodies in my basement is high.”