Lorenzo #3
Tony nods once. "At first I thought she was just angry.
" A bitter laugh escapes him. "Then I realized she enjoyed it.
Daire likes finding people's weaknesses," he says quietly.
"She likes knowing she can make them do what she wants.
" His eyes meet mine. "Frederick didn't teach her that.
They were the perfect match." Daithí's jaw clenches.
Tony looks down at his hands. "When Frederick came along, he didn't change her.
" He lets out a bitter laugh. "That's the mistake everyone makes.
" His eyes lift to mine. "He just showed her how much further she could go.
" The room falls silent. "Frederick had money, connections, and access to people Daire couldn't reach on her own.
He taught her how to hide things, how to move money, how to use information properly.
" His expression twists. "Before him, she'd ruin lives one person at a time.
After him..." He shakes his head. "After him she started thinking bigger. "
"How much bigger?" I ask.
"Everything."
Daithí folds his arms. "Explain."
Tony swallows. "Daire always wanted to be the center of everything. If she wasn't getting attention, she'd create a reason to get it." His face darkens. "When she was fifteen she told Bridget she'd been assaulted."
The room goes still and Daithí's eyes narrow.
Tony stares at the floor. "It never happened."
My jaw tightens. "She made it up?”
Tony nods. "Bridget believed her."
"Of course she did," Daithí says quietly.
"She said Quinn was a reminder of it."
Something cold settles in my chest.
"Why Quinn?"
Tony laughs bitterly. "Because Bridget was with Quinn that day."
The pieces start falling into place. Years of resentment, years of favoritism, years of Quinn paying for something she didn't even know she'd supposedly done.
Tony drags a hand over his face. "Bridget spent years protecting Daire because she thought she was protecting a damaged child.
" His voice hardens. "The problem was Daire knew exactly what she was doing. Then she found out she was pregnant, supposedly from the assault. But the truth is, she had no idea who the father was.”
Daithí's head snaps up. "What happened?"
"Bridget took care of it. She paid for everything, kept it quiet, and made sure Ronan never found out."
"Bridget covered for her," I say.
Tony nods. "Over and over again. Every lie worked, so she told a bigger one. By the time Frederick came along, she'd spent years learning there were no consequences." His expression turns grim. "And Frederick gave her exactly what she'd always wanted."
"Power," Daithí says.
Tony shakes his head. "Control. They're the same person," Tony says quietly. "That's why they work."
A chill crawls down my spine. "They don't love each other."
"No."
"They don't trust each other?" I ask, wondering if that’s the case.
Tony laughs. "Not even a little."
"Then why stay together?"
His eyes meet mine. "Because they both want the same thing."
The room falls silent. "What?" Daithí asks.
Tony's expression hardens. "Everything."
The single word settles over the room like a death sentence, because people like Frederick Hightower and Daire Delaney don't stop when they have enough. They stop when there's nothing left to take.
Tony looks between us, and hope flickers across his face. He thinks he's helped himself, he thinks cooperation changes what happens next. It doesn't. "Where is Claudette?" I ask.
His eyes widen with fear.
"I don't know."
I backhand him hard enough to knock him sideways in the chair, blood sprays across the armrest. Daithí doesn't move.
Tony spits blood onto the floor. "I don't know."
I grab him by the front of his shirt and haul him upright. "You've spent the last hour telling us things nobody else knows."
Tony's breathing comes fast and panicked. "They killed her."
Daithí freezes and I stare at Tony. "What?"
Tony's eyes close. "They killed her."
"When?" Daithí asks.
Tony swallows. "A long time ago."
"Who?" I ask.
Tony laughs bitterly. "Frederick arranged it."
Daithí's face hardens. "Daire knew." It's not a question.
Tony doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, the silence tells us everything.
"Why?" I ask.
Tony looks down at his blood-covered hands. "Because Claudette found out."
"Found out what?"
His jaw clenches. For a second I think he's going to lie again, but he doesn’t. "She knew Daire was sleeping with me." Daithí doesn't react, not yet. "She knew Daire was involved with Frederick."
"And?" I push.
Tony looks directly at me. "Claudette threatened to expose all of it. They couldn't allow that."
"No," I agree quietly. "They couldn't." I pull my gun from the holster beneath my jacket and level it at him.
"No." His voice cracks. "No, Lorenzo, please. You said you'd let me explain."
"You did explain."
Tony's face drains of color. "I helped you."
"No," I say quietly. "You helped yourself."
Tony's eyes fill with panic. My finger slides to the trigger and Tony's eyes lock on it. "Please."
I think about Quinn and all the shit that this bastard helped cover to make her life hell. No, he deserves no fucking mercy. I pull the trigger and watch as the bullet sinks between his eyes.
I step over Tony's body and walk out of the house.
Daithí falls into step beside me. "Where now?"
I open the car door. “We go home, and we find out where that cunt is. He dies next,” I say simply.
Daithí gives me a nod. "Then Frederick Hightower's running out of time.”