I head back into the bedroom to find my brother with his arms folded across his chest and an irritated look on his face. I open the file and take in the amounts.

“Did Geno Russo pay you to cover up the killing of Vittoria’s rapists, or were you working with Lucien to hire the bastards?”

I’m not sure who is more surprised when they turn toward me, Brady or my brother.

“That was Bruno,” I tell Amadeo. “Judging from the bonuses he was paid, Mr. Brady was a model employee.” I share the figures with Amadeo, who whistles through his teeth. “First one looks like was authorized by Geno. A six-figure ‘bonus.’ Is that normal?”

Brady clears his throat.

“What happened to the righteous ‘I won’t work with crooks’ part?” I ask.

“Mr. Russo wasn’t a crook.” He stands to reach for his shirt.

“Sit,” Amadeo says.

“I’d like to get dressed.”

“And I’d like some answers. Sit.”

He takes a good look at my brother then at me and parks his old ass back down.

“I meant what I said about Vittoria. That girl doesn’t deserve to have anything else happen to her. She’s been through hell.”

“Just to be sure we’re on the same page, you’re talking about the kidnapping, imprisonment, and rape, am I right?” Amadeo asks.

His mouth falls open.

“What was your part in it?” I ask.

“How do you know about that?” he asks, voice quieter.

“Met with Doc Tilbury,” Amadeo says. “Did you know he keeps a video of each session?”

He doesn’t respond to that.

“Back to your role, though. What did you do exactly for the bonus?” Amadeo asks.

“You helped to get rid of the bodies?” I suggest.

“That’s not exactly my area.”

“No, that’s right. You don’t work with criminals.”

“I did it for the child. I made that scum disappear, so as far as the world was concerned, the bastards never existed. Geno took care of getting rid of any physical evidence.”

“Including the bodies.”

He nods.

“And he paid you a hefty sum.”

He hesitates before he nods, and Amadeo and I exchange a look.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Let me get the alcohol to clean that wound,” I say, walking toward the bathroom.

“Wait. I don’t know why I would even cover this up anymore.”

“Go on,” Amadeo says calmly.

“Lucien arranged it. What happened to her was Lucien’s doing.”

It takes my brother and I both a minute to digest that even though on some level we knew.

“He told you that? Geno Russo? I’m guessing Lucien didn’t exactly come to beg forgiveness.”

“He suspected, then found out for sure. There was a money trail.”

“Always is. What about these other payments made to you?” I ask.