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1.82 ANTONIO

“What the fuck are we going to do, brother?” I ask Nicholas while I stare at myself in the mirror of our bathroom in the office of our building.

Nick, who’s leaning against the doorway, his eyes closed, shakes his head.

“I have no clue, Tony. I don’t know how much longer I can go on without her. I’m getting close to just walking into the FBI building, guns blazing. We have gotten nowhere. No where!”

I shake my head back.

“I know, brother. You’ve barely slept.”

He scoffs. “Neither have you.”

“I never really slept well, though. Not until Caroline. Corinna. Whatever the hell her name is. But you have always been a good sleeper.”

“I know, I know. Sorry, I don’t mean to snap on you. I really don’t. I love you, brother. I’m just really, really tired. And I feel like I’m going fucking insane here, Antonio.”

“I know, brother. I know. Why don’t you just head home and try to get some sleep? We have only one meeting today, and that’s over the phone. I’m sure I can manage it by myself. And
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