Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Once the FBI was done trying to poke holes in that story, the conversation turned toward Jean’s family. Here they were infinitely more interested in what Jean had to say, but he only had so many answers for them. He’d spent most of his childhood on the court, not watching his father’s meetings. He knew vague details of what businesses his father invested in but nothing at all about his partners.
His saving grace was that Hervé Moreau was not even half the man Nathan Wesninski was. Tracking his interests and dealings would be easier and didn’t require Jean’s insights to piece it together. What the FBI seemed most concerned with was simply determining how the two families were tied together and whether Jean was going to be a problem for them. They couldn’t afford hiccups when Nathan’s case was already a nightmare and a half to work on. Jean had to believe Stuart’s assurances that the evidence linking the Moreau and Wesninski families was set in place, and he held his ground against the agents’ prying questions.
Eventually Neil let them circle back to Stuart’s visit in the city, and he pressed a shoe against the side of Jean’s foot as he offered the best—worst—excuse he could. Neil had supposedly asked Stuart months ago to locate Jean’s sister. Stuart finally found where her trail ended, and he’d brought them both to the city so he could deliver the bad news in person. Here Neil injected a bit of venom into his story, that the agents had further ruined an already horrible day by forcing them into this interrogation, and one of them had the good grace to look guilty.
After four exhausting hours of arguing, including some long breaks to check in with Interpol, the agents finally decided Jean was the luckiest break they’d had in weeks. Jean himself was deemed a nonthreat thanks to his ignorance and clean history. Now they could set to work dismantling Hervé’s ring and drive another nail in Nathan’s coffin.
Jean weathered their smug satisfaction with fracturing control. He was two smart remarks from breaking when he and Neil were finally escorted out of the building and stuffed back into the car.
Ten minutes later, they were kicked out in front of the restaurant they’d been abducted from. Jean watched the SUV disappear into evening traffic, but Neil tipped his head back to stare at the sky. Jean couldn’t remember where the garage was from here, so he waited in silence for Neil to come back to him.
“I’m sorry,” Neil said at last. “It shouldn’t have fallen on you.”
“I am a Moreau,” Jean said. “My family exists to serve.”
“Shit existence,” Neil said, as if he was somehow better off. He set off down the sidewalk, knowing Jean would fall in alongside him. Jean was half-sure he was getting them lost, because none of this looked familiar, but then he spotted the ATM Neil had used a few hours ago. “Are you going to keep it as-is, then? Jean Moreau?”
“This is all I am, you ignorant child.”
“We’re the same age,” Neil pointed out, and Jean waved that aside as irrelevant. “I just mean… I changed my name because I didn’t want to be associated with my family, but they stole yours from you. If you don’t want to change it back, that’s your choice, but don’t choose based on what Riko wanted for you.”
“I do not need advice from you,” Jean warned him.
“He’s dead,” Neil reminded him as he turned into the parking garage. “The rules have changed. As long as you deliver what was promised, why would Ichirou care what you call yourself? Exercise a little freedom once in a while. You might like how it feels.”
“You’ll lose that boldness when he finds out about your goalkeeper.”
“I’m sure he knows. Andrew was with me when I came clean with the FBI in Baltimore, and it’s obvious to me that at least one person in that office is on the wrong payroll. If someone thought to make a note of him as a person of interest, then of course it would’ve made it up the chain. I’m not worried,” Neil added with a slight shrug. “The more people I hold onto, the less of a threat I am, because I won’t want to endanger them by acting out.”
“I would believe that from anyone but you,” Jean said as they got in the car.
“Who is the safer investment?” Neil challenged him. “A man with a dozen reasons not to slip the leash or a man holding on simply because he was told he couldn’t let go?”
Jean ignored him, and Neil let it drop. The drive back to Laila’s house passed in tense silence. There was room at the curb for Neil to park in front of Jeremy’s car, but he stopped in the middle of the street and put his hazards on. Jean reached for his buckle but went still when Neil caught hold of his sleeve. It took a minute before Neil looked at him. Jean didn’t think it was the night that made him look so far away, but Neil’s voice was calm when he said,