I gnaw on my lip as I consider this, and I don’t like the only answer that makes any sense.
“You mean the Ramsays,” I say quietly.
“I don’t know who else it would be.”
“Why would the Ramsays alter Cherry’s birth certificate?”
Antony says nothing, and I don’t like the way this information is sitting with me. My stomach tightens up a bit.
“This goes back over twenty years,” I say. “There was a lot going on back then. The town hadn’t even been divided up yet, not officially anyway.”
“That’s around the same time the treaty between the Orsos and the Ramsays was created, yes. Division of businesses, territory—all of that was done around that same time.”
“So why would the Ramsays plant a forged birth certificate in our files?”
“Obvious, isn’t it?” Antony shrugs one shoulder and taps his finger on the paper. “It’s because they don’t want us to know who she really is.”
“And who is she?”
“That’s the big question, boss.”
“There is only one answer,” Pops says. “You know it, too.”
I glare at Pops, wondering why the fuck he’s up this late in the first place. I don’t remember him coming into the office, let alone loitering around next to his own portrait on the wall. I’m about to tell him to fuck off and go to bed, but Antony speaks first.
“How much do you really know about her, boss?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask, ignoring Pops as he rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you were right there when I brought her to our family dinners.”
“Yeah, I know that.” Antony rolls his eyes. “I mean, are you sure the story she’s giving you is the right one?”
“Get to the fucking point.” I don’t like Antony’s tone or the implications that go with it. I know Cherry. I just slept with her for fuck’s sake, and there’s no way she has any idea about any of this.
“You know how much this family means to me,” he says, “and that includes you. I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t check things out more. When I found the birth certificate, I had some suspicions, so I followed her today.”
“You followed Cherry?” I narrow my eyes at him. I hadn’t told him to do anything like that, and I’m not happy he went behind my back.
“Yeah.” He chews on his thumbnail and watches me carefully. “She went out before the festival.”
“Where did she go?”
“Just to the store around the corner from her apartment,” he says. “Where she went isn’t the issue.”
“Did she see you?”
“No, she didn’t see me. She didn’t see the other guy either.”
“What other guy?” All concerns about Antony acting without my consent become irrelevant.
“While I was following her, I realized he was following her, too. So, I followed the follower.”
“What?” My head is starting to spin again and not in a fun way. “Who is he?”
“Well, I couldn’t see him well, so I got the license plate.” Antony pauses for a long moment. “It’s a rental, a west side rental. I had Reid’s new hacker kid dig into the rental records to see who it was rented to. The license on file says John Smith, which is clearly bullshit.”
The knot in my stomach tightens.
“Who is he really, and why is he tailing her?” I can barely get the words out.
“Maybe it’s the same reason you are,” Antony says with a smirk.
I glare at my cousin. I don’t like where any of this is going, and I don’t need his fucking attitude right now.
“You want me to break your jaw?” I ask.
“No, sir! Sorry, boss.” Antony straights his shoulders and looks down at the desk as he collects himself.
“Get on with it,” I growl.
“I did some more digging, and I got the dude’s picture. He looked a little familiar, so it didn’t take long to figure out who he really is.”
“Well? Who is it?”
“Remember the dude who came into the club with her?”
“The one you smacked into the bar?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s the guy following her?” I stare at Antony as he nods definitively. “But we ran him out of town!”
“Apparently, we only ran him to the west side, not out of town entirely.”
“You’re sure?” I try to picture the guy in my head, but I can’t come up with anything more than a vague image. “You’re sure it’s the same guy?”
“Yeah, it was definitely him. There’s more though. The guy used to live on the east side, but when he came back to town, he moved into a place on the west side. On top of that, I’m pretty sure he works for the Ramsay family.”
“How could he be tied to the Ramsays?” I narrow my eyes, wondering if Antony is trying to draw conclusions out of thin air or if he’s on to something. This is all starting to sound a little paranoid. “He was just a random internet date.”
“Was he?” Antony raises an eyebrow.
“What are you implying?” I don’t like Antony’s tone—not at all.
“Not sure yet, boss, but I do hate a coincidence.”
“If you’re suggesting they somehow staged all of that…” I can’t even finish the sentence. Cherry isn’t the type to be involved in such an elaborate set up, is she? “Maybe he’s stalking her. He was pissed when he got thrown out. It could be as simple as that.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think that fits. He never approaches her, always keeps his distance, and doesn’t intervene in anything she does. If he wanted her attention, he would have approached her at some
