The first thing my new husband did after marrying me was give me a bedroom across the hall from his

“Drop it!” the lead man barked, his rifle aimed directly at my chest.

I froze, the small black ledger clutched tightly in my hand.

Nico moved faster than I could process.

He stepped smoothly in front of me, shielding me with his body while his right hand hovered near his holster.

“Who the hell are you?” Nico demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

“FBI,” the lead agent said, flashing a badge with his left hand while keeping his weapon trained on us. “Agent Miller. We have a warrant for this premises. Hands where I can see them, Caruso.”

Agent Miller.

The man my father had supposedly called the morning of my wedding.

Nico slowly raised his hands, his eyes narrowed.

“A warrant for what, exactly?”

“Evidence of wire fraud, racketeering, and conspiracy,” Miller said, stepping closer. “And it looks like your wife just found exactly what we're looking for.”

He gestured toward me.

“Hand over the book, Mrs. Caruso.”

I looked at Nico.

His expression was utterly unreadable, but I saw a faint, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Do not give it to them.

But I had a rifle pointed at me.

“I said, hand it over,” Miller repeated, his tone sharpening.

I slowly moved out from behind Nico, my hands shaking as I held out the ledger.

Miller snatched it from my grasp, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” he sneered. “Now, both of you, against the wall.”

We were quickly patted down.

They found Nico’s weapon and confiscated it.

They didn't find the burner phone, which was tucked securely in the hidden pocket of my skirt.

“What happens now?” I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

“Now, you both come with us for a little chat,” Miller said.

We were escorted out of the building through a back exit, bypassing Nico’s men entirely.

They shoved us into an unmarked van and drove for what felt like hours, finally arriving at a sterile, nondescript government building.

We were separated immediately.

I was placed in a small, windowless interrogation room with a steel table and two chairs.

I sat there for a long time, the silence pressing in on me, my mind racing.

Miller had the ledger.

If my father had detailed his thefts and my supposed involvement, I was going to prison.

The door finally opened, and Agent Miller walked in, tossing the black ledger onto the table with a loud smack.

“Let’s talk about your father, Evelyn,” he said, sitting down opposite me.

“I want a lawyer,” I said immediately.

“You don't need a lawyer if you cooperate,” Miller countered smoothly. “We know James Hart set you up. We know he transferred the access codes to you without your knowledge.”

I blinked, genuinely surprised.

“You do?”

“We have the wiretap transcripts. We know he was trying to use you as a scapegoat to get the Carusos off his back.”

Relief washed over me, so potent it made me lightheaded.

“So... I’m not under arrest?”

“Not for the theft, no,” Miller said, leaning forward, his eyes boring into mine. “But you are currently married to the head of the most powerful crime syndicate on the East Coast.”

“I was forced into it.”

“We know that too. Which is why we want to make you a deal.”

He tapped the ledger.

“This book details a lot of dirty money moving through Hart Meridian. But it also details payouts. Payouts to judges, politicians, and police commissioners. All funded by the Caruso organization.”

“I don't know anything about that.”

“I know. But Nico does. And we want him.”

Miller leaned back, folding his arms.

“We want you to wear a wire, Evelyn. We want you to go back to that house, play the dutiful wife, and get him on tape admitting to his family’s illegal operations.”

“Are you insane?” I hissed. “He’ll kill me.”

“We will protect you. Once we have enough evidence, we pull you out, put you in witness protection, and you get a brand new life. Far away from your father and the Carusos.”

It was a lifeline.

A way out of this nightmare.

But it required betraying the man who had just stood between me and a bullet.

“I need to think about it,” I said.

“You don't have time to think,” Miller pressed. “Nico’s lawyers will have him out of here in an hour. You need to decide now. Are you going to help us tear down his empire, or are you going down with him?”

I stared at the ledger, then at Miller.

Before I could answer, my burner phone vibrated in my pocket.

One short, sharp buzz.

Miller didn't notice.

I shifted in my chair, surreptitiously slipping my hand into my pocket and clicking the side button to read the preview on the lock screen.

The message wasn't from the extortionist.