Hunter's POV
Paulo's apartment building was in Brooklyn, a converted warehouse with exposed brick and rustic fixtures. The kind of place that screamed "I'm with the IT crowd." The place would cost more per square foot than most Manhattan penthouses.
Quinn kept pace beside me, her heels clicking against the concrete as we approached the entrance. "Remember," she said, her voice low and sharp, "you're here for information. Not vengeance."
"I know what I'm here for." I needed answers, and I felt like people like the police were feeding me only part of the full story and keeping bits to themselves.
"Do you?" She grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. "Because you look like you're about to tear someone apart."
I yanked free, jaw clenched. "He was f*****g my wife, Quinn. While she lied to ever
