Collins sat in his car outside Ryan Enterprises, watching the evening crowd filter out of the building as the workday came to an end. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and his heart hammered against his ribs with a rhythm that seemed to echo the words he would soon have to speak: **My father killed yours. My father killed yours.**
The newspaper article about his father's ruthless business practices had been the final straw. David Martinez was getting closer to the truth, and Collins knew that if he didn't tell Nora himself, she would learn about their families' dark connection in the worst possible way-through a sensationalized news story that would paint her as either a fool or a conspirator.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the lobby,
