Chapter 33 · Snow

"Meant to protect you," Luca says, and I want to laugh in his face.

"Protect me." I slap the printout back onto his desk so hard the edge of it skids into his glass of scotch. "You opened a shell account eight months before you put a ring on me, Luca. That's not protection. That's a plan."

"It's both." His jaw ticks. Outside the window behind him, snow is coming down sideways, fat and fast, sticking to the glass like it's trying to get in. "Dominic's been bleeding my accounts since before I knew your name. I built that account to catch him doing it. I didn't know it'd end up wearing your brother's debt like a coat."

"Convenient."

"True." He steps around the desk. Close enough that I smell cedar and gun oil and something colder underneath, something that's been sitting in the snow. "You think I wanted this? A wife who does my books better than the men I pay to do them?"

"I think you wanted a signature." My voice cracks and I hate it. "I think you wanted somebody who'd shut up and cash the check.