"This can't be happening." Finlay's voice was stretched taut, his gaze glued to his phone.
I leaned against the counter in my tiny apartment, my eyes tracking his pacing. The weight of the accusations tugged at every line of his face, a grim shadow cast on the man I'd gotten to know. He sounded so unconfident and unsure.
"Finlay," I ventured softly, "we'll get through this somehow.
He ceased pacing and turned to face me. "Figure it out? Luciana, my whole career-everything I have built-is hanging by a thread, and now this?" He raised his phone, the screen glowing ominously with the message: "You've only scratched the surface. Walk away, or lose everything."
"It's a scare tactic," I said, attempting to sound far more confident than I did. "Whoever is behind this, knows you are getting cl
