While in paradise, the arrogance Tony had possessed for most of his life transformed into something different, something deeper. Tony couldn’t explain it because he didn’t completely understand it. However, a year ago, Anthony Rawlings would’ve used every resource at his disposal to free himself from the Iowa City Police and clear his name. For what? The answer was simple and ingrained. He would have done it to maintain appearances. Never would he want to admit to the world or anyone else that he was capable of the heinous acts described in Meredith Banks’ book, much less the litany of crimes yet to be revealed.

Now, waiting alone for Tom and others from Rawlings Industries’ legal department to arrive, Tony wasn’t thinking about his own freedom, or even his own reputation. His thoughts were a blur with concerns about his wife and daughter as well as the mind-numbing blow of Catherine’s confessions.

His grandfather.

Tony could barely stomach the reality: Catherine Marie London, the woman he’d trusted like a sister, confessed to willfully poisoning and ultimately killing Nathaniel. He tried to grasp that new reality. His grandfather’s imprisonment and resulting death had been the catalyst for everything—every plan, every name on their list, and every consequence. Sherman Nichols and Jonathon Burke had collected evidence that led to Nathaniel’s conviction, but they weren’t responsible for his death, as Tony had believed for most of his life. It had all been a farce.

Tony recalled his dream…the envelope.

In his dream a year ago, Nathaniel had told Tony he’d failed. For the first time, Tony saw through the veil of crimson that had clouded his vision for so many years. Nathaniel never wished Anton a life of vengeance. Family, no matter how dysfunctional, had always been of utmost importance to him. He wished a full envelope for all of his loved ones. Never would he have wished harm to Anton, his wife, or his child, no matter who they were or to whom they were related. Even with Samuel’s testimony, Nathaniel never condemned Samuel to pay. Family was exempt.

In the still of the interrogation room, Tony’s memories screamed for attention as thoughts of his grandfather’s medical records clamored for recognition. When Tony closed his eyes, he saw Nathaniel in a room similar to the one where Tony sat. He remembered his grandfather’s voice, still strong and demanding, rambling about debts and children of children. Now, in the clarity provided by the new information, Tony wondered if any or all of those ramblings could have been brought on by the dementia-like side effects of the medication.

The person who ultimately deserved to pay for the crimes against so many was undoubtedly Catherine Marie. She took Nathaniel’s wishes, vindicated them, and orchestrated a life-consuming scenario. A red hue seeped from the corners of the small room within the Iowa City jail as Tony assessed the damage. Everything began with hate and lack of forgiveness. That said, Catherine wasn’t the only perpetrator. Samuel, Tony’s father, was also responsible. His hatred of Catherine influenced his decision-making regarding Nathaniel’s medication. That vengeance created the symptoms in Nathaniel that Catherine misconstrued as dementia.

Tony wanted to believe that Catherine’s poisoning of Nathaniel was the selfless act of a concerned wife, not the homicidal act of a psychopath, but he was done seeing her through his grandfather’s lens. Nathaniel had only been months away from release. Catherine Marie Rawls had had the proverbial world at her fingertips. She had a man who loved her, respected her, and promised her a future. Maybe Nathaniel’s wealth had dwindled, but at the very least, Nathaniel had the money overseas. If only she’d waited, taken him home, and allowed his medications to be re-evaluated.

Tony shook his head. If only…

Wasn’t that the phrase of the day?

If only Nathaniel had lived. If only Brent hadn’t gotten on that plane. If only Derek Burke hadn’t found his way into Sophia’s life. If only Tony and Catherine had never complied their list of names. If only his life had crossed paths with Claire’s in another way…

Tony could go on for hours thinking about that list: Sherman Nichols. Tony remembered the first time he saw that name. It was during his investigation of Cole Mathews, Sherman’s alias. He remembered the pride he felt as he supplied Nathaniel with that information. He’d done what he’d been asked to do, what Anton knew Nathaniel was incapable of doing. Tony’s report didn’t only contain Sherman’s name, but the names of his family. It was more than his grandfather had requested, but that’s what Anton did—more, above and beyond. That report contained the names of Sherman Nichols’ wife, Elizabeth; son, Jordon; daughter-in-law, Shirley; and granddaughters, Emily and Claire.

Tony’s empty stomach twisted. Every time he pointed his finger at Catherine, four pointed back toward him. He couldn’t blame her for everything. Without his initial research, the entire Nichols family would’ve been spared. His face flushed. When Tony disclosed that list of names to his grandfather, Claire was six years old. A sickening feeling brought a bad taste to his mouth as he imagined what Nichol would be like at that age. What did Tony want for his daughter at that age? The answer was simple: security and innocence. Wasn’t that the same thing Jordon and Shirley had wanted for Claire?

Catherine not only murdered Nathaniel, but Sherman, Jordon, and Shirley Nichols. During her confessions, she’d admitted to singlehandedly eliminating an entire branch of Claire’s and ultimately Nichol’s family tree. Remorse and guilt took a backseat to red-hot rage as Tony remembered the scene at the estate and envisioned the determination and hatred in Catherine’s cold, gray eyes. She’d had the gun and had wanted to hurt his family. If she’d succeeded this afternoon, the entire Nichols line would be gone. The way she looked at Claire and Nichol. Hell, not only them: she had John and Emily locked in a suite with poisoned water. The bounds to her depravity knew no limits.