He reached down and touched the edge of the yellowed deed on the table.

“I can sign this over to you right now,” he said, his voice quiet and flat. “No courts, no delays.”

I stared at the document that bore my grandfather’s original signature.

“And what do you want in return?” I asked.

“The red ledgers,” Nico said. “And the digital backups of the offshore accounts.”

My chest tightened as I looked at him.

“You want me to obstruct a federal investigation,” I said.

“I want to keep my freedom,” Nico replied. “You want your family’s restaurant back, and you want Lila’s name cleared.”

He took a silver pen from his pocket and laid it precisely beside the deed.

“If those ledgers reach the District Attorney, I go to prison,” he said. “But if they disappear, my lawyers can handle the rest.”

I looked at Denise, waiting for her professional counsel.

Denise stepped closer to me, her boots clicking softly on the damp concrete floor.

She looked at the deed, then pulled me a few feet away, near the racks of dusty Barolo.