I saw the moment Evan noticed me. Just the slightest shift of his gaze from the weasel to my face, and then back again. “Tomorrow,” Evan said. “We’ll talk.” Then he turned to me, effectively dismissing the weasel, who slipped through the door, shoulders sagging in what looked like relief.

“Angie.” His voice stroked me like a strong, firm hand, and I felt my body heat in memory of his touch. His eyes flicked to Kevin. “Agent Warner.”

“Nice speech,” Kevin said. He held his hand out to shake. “You’re an articulate man.”

“It pays to be able to persuade people in my line of work,” Evan said.

For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore Kevin’s outstretched hand. Then he reached out—and as he did, I saw the raw, red knuckles. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed them before, and I had to blame my lack of attention on the dark. And on the fact that I’d been somewhat preoccupied by his general proximity, his touch, and my raging hormones.

“Evan! What happened?”

“Street fighting, Mr. Black?” Kevin said, in what must have been a joke but just sounded rude to me.

“If I was,” Evan said smoothly, “the other guy must be pretty fucked up.” He held the hand up for inspection. “I’d say I got off easy.”

For a moment, the two just stared at each other, a sticky, uncomfortable tension filling the space between them. Forget the War of the Roses, that historic battle was nothing compared to this War of the Alphas, and I had a sick feeling that I was the root of the trouble.

“It’s hardly a joke,” I snapped. “Seriously, Evan, you should clean that up. And for Christ’s sake, Kevin. Could you be any more of a jerk?”

He angled a glance at me. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Evan said. “Really. I was helping a friend with her car. My hand slipped, and the engine was still pretty hot. It wasn’t pleasant, but I’ll survive.”

“You should be more careful,” Kevin said.

“I’m always careful,” Evan countered smoothly. “But sometimes shit happens.”

He was right. Jahn’s death was about as shitty as it got.

For a moment, the silence hung awkwardly between the three of us. Then Kevin hooked his arm around my shoulder. “She’s had a hell of a day. We’re going to get out of here.”

I waited for Evan to say goodbye, some tiny part of me hoping that he’d step in and insist I stay in the condo, because how could he just let me leave with Kevin? But he only stood there. There was no sign—no hint—of the man who’d evoked such sensuality on the patio. The man whose voice had told me to fly and whose touch had burst through me with at least as much color and flare as tonight’s fireworks.

I was too tired and too slashed to try to understand it or even to think about it. All I felt was sad.

“Will you tell Tyler and Cole goodbye for me?”

“Sure,” he said, and though his voice was more gentle than I’d expected, I noticed that he didn’t say that he’d talk to me soon or that I’d be seeing the guys in a day or so. Once again I was struck by the awful reality: Everything had changed. Jahn had been our intersection point, and now that he was gone, I felt adrift.

I grabbed Kevin’s hand and hurried out of the condo before the tears I’d been fighting all night began to flow.

As soon as we were on the elevator, Kevin repeatedly jabbed his finger on the lobby button as if he couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. “At least that’s one good thing that will come of your uncle’s death,” he said darkly.

“Excuse me?”

“I just mean that you won’t be seeing those three anymore.”

“What the hell?” My voice lashed out like a whip, but I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing—nothing—good that could come out of Jahn’s death, and that most especially included losing three men I counted as friends.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

“Good. You should be. Now tell me why you’d say something like that.”

“Dammit, Angie, I can’t. I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But you did. And now you’re going to explain.”

“Angie …” He trailed off, his voice firm.

I crossed my arms over my chest. No way was he getting off the hook that easily. “Is this about that bullshit investigation a few years ago? I mean, honestly, Kevin, you were a shit to them earlier tonight.”

“Bullshit investigation? Do you even know what we were talking about?”

“Do you?” I countered. He’d only been in the Bureau for four years. That whole fiasco that Jahn had told me about with his knights was a full year before Kevin’s time.

“Burnett was, and he’s told me enough. I know you grew up around them, but that doesn’t make them good guys. They were fencing stolen merchandise, Angie.”

I gaped at him. “That’s insane. They’re businessmen, just like my uncle.”

“They have their fingers in a lot of businesses, I won’t argue that.”

I narrowed my eyes, irritated by the smirky tone of his voice. “If what you’re saying is true, they’d be behind bars instead of being the toast of Chicago. I mean, come on, Kevin. They’re three of the most prominent—not to mention public—men in this city. They aren’t holed up in some lame-ass pawn shop buying stolen stereos.” I mean, seriously, what the hell kind of game was Kevin playing?

“You say they’re businessmen?” Kevin said. “I’m not disagreeing. But not all businesses are legit, and you damn well know it.”

I started to reply, but held my tongue, because as much as I didn’t want to concede any point to Kevin, I had to silently admit that on the surface what he said was true. My father had helped draft dozens of crime prevention bills and oversaw at least as many task forces at the state level over the years. And since he wasn’t a man to leave his work at the office, I couldn’t help but pick up some salient points here and there. And one thing I knew was that legitimate businesses often stood as fronts for criminal enterprises. But Evan’s businesses? Tyler’s and Cole’s?

I wanted to stamp my foot and tell Kevin he was being absurd. That there was nothing about their businesses that would make the government even look twice. But my foot stayed firmly on the ground. Because now that he’d shined a spotlight, I couldn’t help but notice one or two red flags.

The biggest one was Destiny, of course, the high-end gentleman’s club they owned together, and which had been a bone of contention between them and my uncle, who thought they were wasting their money and tarnishing their reputations. The guys, apparently, either hadn’t agreed or cared.

Other than the anomaly of the club, the guys were in the business of businesses. They’d founded Knight Enterprises, which bought and sold companies, and its exceptional performance had rocketed the guys into multimillionaire status. I’d asked Jahn to explain to me what they did, and he’d run me through the basics. Essentially, they acquired all sorts of businesses, everything from car washes to liquor stores to temp agencies to I don’t know what else. Some, like the burrito place, they kept, hiring managers for the day-to-day stuff, and folding the business in under the umbrella of their holding company. Others they sold, making money off the various assets and real estate.

In other words, they were gambling, making their fortune by betting on the acquisitions doing well. Apparently, they made a lot of really good bets.

Ten minutes before, all of that seemed perfectly legit. Now Kevin’s suspicions had me hearing words like fencing and smuggling and money laundering. Had I been blind? Or was Kevin being an ass?

Both possibilities pissed me off, and my words came out sharper than I’d intended. “If there was any evidence then the case wouldn’t have been dropped. Five years, Kevin. You’re all ruffled about some blip on the radar from five years ago.”

“It wasn’t a blip,” he said. “And I never said that was the only reason I wanted you to stay away from them. Dammit, Angie, I care about you. I don’t want you around men like them.”