Rosa's Pov The cafe was small, tucked away on a side street Johansson had chosen specifically, no cameras, no witnesses who mattered. She was already seated when I arrived, a cup of untouched coffee in front of her, her composure perfectly intact. She looked like she'd been waiting for this moment for a long time. "You actually came." She gestured at the chair across from her. "Bold, given what you claim to know." I sat down, my folder on the table between us. "I'm not here to play games, Johansson." "Pity. I was looking forward to the games." She leaned back, studying me with the same cold assessment she'd shown at the gala. "You've been busy. I'll give you that. Most people would have crumbled months ago." "Katherine Wells," I said, no preamble. "Seventeen years old. You were driving. You were drunk. She died and your family made the ent
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