Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
KENNEDY
I push open the heavy door to Dante’s club. Dim lights cast fleeting shadows over the opulent leather booths and the glistening marble bar. It’s nearly empty, a stark contrast to the last time I was here when the place buzzed, body to body, pulsing with music.
“Kennedy?” Dante emerges from a hallway, his surprise evident as he kisses me on the cheek. “I didn’t expect to see you. Enzo isn’t here. He’s”—he considers his words carefully—“a little fucked up.”
“He is?”
“Just, after your little couple’s therapy session went south, he decided to go after our uncle. Something about photographs. He’s trying not to involve us, but I’m pretty sure he’s about to get himself killed.” His eyes meet mine. He winces. “Too soon?”
I smirk. “A little.” A flutter of nerves kicks up in my chest. Stop stalling, Kennedy. Just ask. “I, um, have this flash drive, but I don’t own a computer, and I can’t risk anyone else seeing what’s on it. At least, not until I do. Do you think you can help me?”
He rubs the back of his neck, suspicion etched around a twisted grin. “You don’t own a computer? Then why do you have a flash drive?”
“It’s not mine,” I reply, sheepishly.
His eyes light up with intrigue. “Is it porn?”
Awkwardly, I shrug. “Honestly, I’m not sure. It belongs to Knox.” God help me, what if it is?
“Ooh,” He rubs his scruff, mischief burning behind his bright eyes. “Hacking into FBI property feels like a felony,” he says, chuckling as if it’s the best idea ever.
I sigh, pulling the drive from my pocket. The second he catches sight of what’s written on it, his smile vanishes, replaced by a deep, intense frown.
Enzo .