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.”

The elevator slid to a stop, the doors opened, and we stepped out. He headed toward the exit, but I wasn’t even close to being done with this conversation. I grabbed his sleeve and tugged him into a small alcove near the wall of mailboxes. “No way are you leaving me hanging,” I said. “You say they’re bad news, you tell me why.”

“You know I can’t talk specifics, Angie.”

“Shit.” I snapped out the curse, because I understood the unspoken message. The allegations from five years ago may have disappeared, but Jahn’s knights were still in the FBI’s sights. “If they’re such badasses why hasn’t the FBI or the cops or whoever swooped down and carted them away?”

Kevin just looked at me, his expression suggesting I was being naive. For that matter, I probably was. “There’s evidence,” he said. “There’s strategy. And I’m not talking about this anymore. I’ve already said more than is prudent, but you’re important to me, Angie.”

“What is this about, really? You don’t like that I have male friends? That I was talking to Evan?”

“Talking to him? You cried on his shoulder, Angie.”

I tried to protest that Evan was just a friend, but the words felt bitter on my tongue, and I couldn’t seem to get them out.

Kevin took a step closer, closing the distance between us, and for the first time I realized that despite his lanky physique, there was an innate power to Kevin. “And no, I didn’t like it. I don’t like the way he looks at you, either. I don’t trust him. And I don’t want you getting mixed up with him or his friends. And honestly, Angie, I don’t think your uncle would like it, either.”

His last words ripped a sharp breath from me. He was right, of course. Jahn didn’t want me to be with Evan. Was this why? Was Evan—were all three of the guys—dangerous? Were they really criminals?

Holy shit, the possibility that the allegations five years ago had been true had never even occurred to me. And assuming it was true, had Jahn known? Had he simply discounted the possibility that men he loved like sons ran a criminal enterprise?

Or had my uncle, in some small way, admired the ingenuity that must go along with staying one step ahead of the law? Had he been just a little bit jealous of the rush those three must have experienced every time they crossed a line and got away with it?