Page 83 of Pietro

"How is Finn in this?" Lorenzo turns to me, his eyes searching mine for answers.

I shake my head, the pieces refusing to fit together. "I don't have a fucking idea. He was at the motel with Connor. Shot him in the foot and killed his men, then told me to take her." I jerk my chin toward Nora. "Said he'd explain everything."

"And you believed him?" Nico scoffs, pacing like a caged animal. "An O'Sullivan?"

"I don't know what I believe," I snap back.

"I can fucking talk too, you know," Nora hisses. "But you're all too busy fighting each other to listen."

Her eyes blaze with defiance, reminding me of the woman who walked into my office that first day. Fearless despite the chaos.

"Then talk," Lorenzo says before I can stop him. His voice is calm. Reasonable. Everything I'm not feeling right now.

"No," I growl. "I don't want to hear her lies."

"Pietro," Lorenzo places a hand on my shoulder, his touch firm. "We need information. Let her speak."

I step away from his touch, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. Every instinct screams at me not to listen, not to let her voice work its way back under my skin. But Lorenzo's right. We need to understand what we're dealing with.

"Fine," I spit out, turning my back to her. I can't look at her face while she speaks. Can't risk seeing something in those green eyes that might make me weak again. "Talk."

"Thank you so much for allowing me to speak," Nora says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How generous of you all."

I keep my back to her, hands clenched into fists. Every word from her mouth feels like a knife twisting in my gut.

"I'll start from the beginning," she continues. "So one day I discovered my fiancé Declan was using me to get information on my father's business. We were together for three years, and the whole time, he was working with the Murphys."

The name sends a jolt through me.

The fucking Murphys.

"When I confronted him with evidence I'd gathered, he tried to kill me. Strangled me on our apartment floor." Her voice wavers slightly. "I managed to hit him with a lamp and ran. The first thing I did was to call my father."

I hear her bitter laugh behind me.

"You know what Connor O'Sullivan said to his only daughter when she told him someone just tried to murder her? 'Fix your own mess.' Then he hung up on me."

Despite myself, I turn to look at her. Her eyes are hard, glittering with unshed tears and fury.

"My own father left me to die," she says flatly. "So I went to the only other family I had—Uncle Finn. He got me out of Boston, set me up with a new identity. Nora Kelly."

Lorenzo watches her with calculating eyes. "And he just happened to send you to work for us? His family's enemies?"

"That's the part I never understood," Nora admits. "I asked him why he didn't just give me money to disappear. Start over somewhere else. He said I needed protection, and the Sartoris were the only family powerful enough to keep me safe if Declan found me."

"Bullshit," Nico spits.

"I agree," she shoots back. "I knew there was more to it, but I was desperate. Declan knew all my contacts, all my hiding places. I needed to vanish completely."

My mind races, trying to make sense of Finn's angle. Why send Connor's daughter to us?

"I never shared a single piece of information with anyone," Nora continues, her voice growing stronger. "Not with Finn, not with my father, not with anyone. I didn't tell them about shipments or schedules or security. Nothing."

"Then how did the Irish hit five of our shipments perfectly?" Nico demands.

"I don't know," she says, meeting his glare. "But it wasn't because of me."

"You expect us to believe that?" I finally speak, my voice rough with anger. "That it's just coincidence? You show up, and suddenly the O'Sullivans know exactly where to hit us?"