“No, that’s not true. My father would have told me,” she said in disbelief.

“I’m sure your father didn’t want to stress you out, but I assure you, that was the case.” He smiled, adding, “Hard to believe, I know, but I’m a sentimental old man. And I knew my son here would hate to see that brand off the shelves.” He stole a look at me. “Not that I knew the real reason why.”

Flustered, Juliette dropped back on the couch. “What happened?”

“I had no interest in running a bourbon business, so I didn’t offer to buy him out or to become an investor,” he went on.

“He called asking what I wanted him to do. I was on a job in South America for the CIA.” Handling an issue with a cartel that left a lot of blood on my hands, in the very literal sense. I’d keep that thought to myself. “I told my father to give Carmichael whatever he needed and then some to stay afloat. And to do it as an anonymous donor.”

Other details I didn’t plan to share: I’d ended the call and taken a shower, watching the blood go down the drain, feeling as dead on the inside as the lives I’d taken, even if they were all men who deserved to die.

She leaned forward, holding the sides of her temples while murmuring, “We’ve been like two ships passing in the night all this time. It’s almost becoming cruel at this point.”

“You two were meant to find your way to one another, but it wasn’t your time before,” my father said as if the ground was finally steady beneath his feet and understanding had taken over.

He met my eyes, then angled his head for the hall, letting me know he’d give us a moment to talk.

I sat on the couch next to her and held her hand.

“Whoever wrote our story . . . I’d really like to have a word with them,” she cry-laughed while sniffling.

I brought our clasped palms to my lips and kissed her knuckles. “Well, Bianca was a writer.”

Her teary eyes met mine as she whispered, “Then let’s put in a request. Can she write us a happy ending?”

40. Constantine

Chapter 40

Constantine

“We have news.” Izzy and her timing . . .

She circled the sofa as I pulled my mouth away from Juliette’s.

“Oh shit, sorry.” Izzy sent me an innocent shoulder shrug. “Although, I suppose a little payback is due for all the times you’ve walked in on me, don’t you think?” She couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t in her nature. And she wasn’t wrong.

I maintained hold of Juliette’s hand as we stood. “What’s up?”