All language subtitles for Necessary.Roughness.S02E01.Shrink.or.Swim.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264_track3_[eng]

Previously on Necessary Roughness:

I will trash my career if I want to!

Dr. Dani, how'd you like your first
pro wide receiver as a client?

What's up, sexy lady?
How you doing?

I am not a hooker. I'm a therapist.

Nico. I work for the team.
You know Pittman?

He's an eccentric media mogul.

Owns networks and teams,
including the New York Hawks.

Who's the attractive woman?

That would be Gabrielle Pittman.

I was involved with Gabrielle
before she met Marshall.

- You're the boss.
- The boss' wife.

I have instructions from your father
not to step in again.

Juliette told me you helped her
get into rehab.

Matthew. I'm a trainer for the Hawks.

I know what I want.
Let me know if you're in.

- Nico.
- Something happened to T.K.

He's been shot.

If you've ever fallen into a pool,
almost drowned,

you know the feeling
of being underwater.

You can't breathe, pressure builds
around you as you sink to the bottom.

And you wonder if this might very well be
your last day on Earth.

29-year-old male. Gunshot wound
to the chest and right thigh.

BP is 90 over 60 and dropping.

Mr. King, can you hear me?

Mr. King?

Weak pulse, shallow respiration.

Patient is unresponsive.

Right angle.

More suction.

I see the bullet,
lodged in the back of the right lung.

- Vitals are unstable.
- Get the staplers ready.

BP's 70 over 40 and dropping.

Lost his pulse.

Patient's arresting.

Starting cardiac massage.

Give me some epi and some bicarb.

Paddles.

Go right to 50.

- Charging.
- Stand back.

- All clear?
- Clear!

Hey, doc. I'm Coach Purnell.
How's he doing?

It was touch-and-go for a while,
but he pulled through.

He was shot once in the right thigh,
once in the side.

Suffered a punctured lung,
tremendous blood loss.

But he's gonna be all right, right?

He's had a severe physical trauma.

It's going to be a slow recovery.

Can we see him?

I'm so sorry.

There was a complication.

- He didn't make it.
- What?

You must be his daughter.

Mr. Rothstein was a lovely man.

Rothstein?

No. We're looking for Terrence King.

Oh, my bad.

I think that's him.

Ain't dead yet...

bitches.

I hate that stupid, chirpy, happy sound.

You beat the hell out of it, honey.

Baby, why you gotta get up so early?

Daddy's gotta go to work.

And I need a minute or two
to get me a little something-something.

Kids?

No, no, they're supposed to go
straight from Ray's to school.

Oh, okay.

- Where's your car?
- I always park up the block.

Genius!

Hey, hey, hey. What happened?

- I can't take Mr. Fishy to class.
- What? Mr. Fishy?

Isn't he cute? Dad bought him for me.

Of course he did. Hey! Ray Jay,
not out of the carton. Come on.

- He eats frozen bloodworms.
- Ray Jay!

No. Mr. Fishy.
Can you please find a bowl for him?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now, vamoose.
You're gonna be late for school.

Ho, now! Door's that way.

- I need a warmer jacket.
- No. It's gonna be a heat wave.

- It's... Global warming.
- But, Mom--

No buts. Okay? Because tardiness
leads to truancy and low test scores.

- Just...
- Speaking about test scores.

The SAT tutor. I know you wanted me
to go with Mrs. Bernstein,

- but I found someone better.
- Great!

Olivia di Florio.
She's from up the block.

She got a 2320 on her SAT,
and she's half the price.

Awesome! That is perfect! I approve!

Now, go learn something!

Oh, little dude.

That was really close.

Sneaking around.

It's always dicey.

- I know, but...
- I know.

You don't wanna bring me into their world
unless I'm a permanent fixture.

Now, on the other hand,
sneaking around is hot.

Yes, it is hot.

Oh, I gotta get to this meeting.

I know. My lawyer's coming over,
and I got papers to sign.

But wait. These last six weeks
of the off-season,

they have been really, really nice.

It's about to get
all crazy town again, isn't it?

Whole new season...

whole new set of crazy.

Hello?

- Coach! Coach!
- Coach!

The Pittmans filed for divorce.

What does that mean for the team?

The divorce is bad news for the Pittmans.

Doesn't have to be bad news for the Hawks.

There's rumors
the Hawks can't make payroll.

People spout all kinds of nonsense.

We're gonna be sold, go bankrupt,
be abducted by aliens.

Truth is, it doesn't change
one damn thing around here.

We're professionals.
We have a job to do, a season to plan.

But thanks for your concern.

What about T.K.?

Is it true he's holed up in Florida,
and you haven't laid eyes on him?

Oh, I really missed you guys...

like I miss my annual prostate exam!

You didn't have to come
all the way over here, Chip.

Oh, you want some coffee?

Please.

Well, I wanted to deliver
your tax returns in person.

Okay, so let's do this.

Signed, sealed, delivered,
and we'll be on our way.

My last joint tax return
as Sadie Sadie married lady,

and then free and clear.
Boom! Done! Come on.

See, that's the thing, Dani.
It's boom, but...

it's not done.

Audited. Ray, $87,000 in back taxes?

Yeah, well, apparently,

the IRS doesn't agree
that those deductions were legal.

You are a never-ending stream
of dark, flowing poop.

I gotta go. To be continued.

Audited? That's a bitch.

You.

Just when I'd forgotten what it's like
to have someone jump out of the bushes.

You missed me these last six weeks.

Although I'm guessing
you weren't particularly lonely.

So what's going on in there?

Remind me to program sports talk
into your car radio.

Two hours ago, ESPN reported

the Pittmans sued and countersued
for divorce in superior court.

Oh, what does that all mean?

Well, the Pittmans co-own
the Hawks, fifty-fifty.

So control of the team
is officially up for grabs.

Speaking of Pittman,

did you ever get to talk to him
about you and Gabrielle?

We got bigger things on our plate now.

Stop listening to bullcrap rumors
on talk radio!

- Good morning.
- Name one good thing about it.

Where the hell is Marshall Pittman?

He's underground. We can't find him.

Stupendous. Our asses
are hanging in the breeze,

and he's out playing cowboy somewhere.

Nothing I can do
about the Pittmans or the press.

But I've got some
player-personnel decisions

that can't wait for those two
to shoot it out.

How's T.K.?

I...

As you know, he's spent the past month
doing physical rehab in Florida,

despite our discomfort with that choice.

He came back a couple days ago.
Haven't heard from him.

And I've left him
a bunch of messages,

"Call me when you're ready,"
and nothing.

Excuse me.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, sure.

Bring me back a venti Maalox!

T.K.'s agent, Rob Maroney,
is stopping by tomorrow

to let me know
just how great T.K.'s doing,

but that man would lie to Santa Claus.

I don't care if you have to
bang down his door.

I need you to set eyes on Terrence King,

and let me know
if he's ever gonna play again,

or do I need to find me
another wide receiver?

I should have guessed.

Ten minutes after the apocalypse,

and the roaches come crawling out.

I come in peace, Nico.

- Where is he, Devin?
- Tahiti. Budapest.

Maybe Singapore.

He's gone off the grid.

Marshall goes radio silent for six weeks,

then blows the team up
without so much as a return phone call.

Now I'm getting SOS e-mails
from Juliette Pittman,

but I can't seem to raise her anywhere.

She's a master at getting herself
into situations, isn't she?

I know you care about the girl, but how
many times have you been down this road?

This feels different.

And Marshall shares your concern.

But he has been fairly explicit
on this subject.

You are not to help Juliette anymore.

She's his daughter, not yours,

in case you've forgotten.

Somebody has to act like her father.

Marshall will be in contact
when he's ready.

Until then, stay on task,
and maybe we'll weather the storm.

I just want you to be aware.

Big changes coming down the pike.

What kind of changes?

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

Before you knock...

He has been through a severe
physical and emotional trauma.

There's depression, anger, withdrawal.
Anything is possible.

So I just... I just want you
to be prepared. Yeah?

Got it.

Yo! It's Matty D. And Dr. D.

Your two favorite people!

Is Terrence here?

Matty D. Dr. D.

- Terrence.
- I'd like you to meet mis amigas.

Candi, my physical therapist.

Mandi, my spiritual advisor, and...

this girl here,
I met in the elevator yesterday.

Talk about a full-service building.

We just came over to see how you are.

How am I?

Zenned out like a mother flicker.

Well, hey, that is... That's great, T.K.

- K.T.
- What's that?

T.K. was last year.

Terrence King is gone with the wind.

Reborn, King Terrence.

Ergo, K.T.

T.

Dr. D.

- It's great to see you.
- T. T. T.

- It's good to see you too.
- That's good.

- Matty D.
- I'm good.

- Yeah? Me too.
- Tempting.

All right. Thanks, buddy.

Wheatgrass?

It's a cane, right?

Yeah.

Wrong. It's a sword!

En garde, Slim Jim Silver!

Okay. Okay.
That seems a little dangerous.

Nah. It's like
Teddy Bear Roosevelt once said:

"Speak softly
and carry a big-ass sword cane."

Okay, we could talk
about your sword cane all day,

but isn't there anything
more pressing on your mind?

I know what you want to hear.

Yeah? K.T.'s all freaked out.

His majesty's all pissed off.

I don't want to hear anything
other than how you really are.

I'm fine.

Getting shot was a gift, really.

Dr. D., I was blind, but now I see.

See what?

I can't really explain that
in human language.

Unfortunately, that's the only one we got.

I don't need words.

I know what the Earth is thinking.

I know what squirrels are thinking.

I mean, like, not like,
you know, crazy like that.

It's just... I died on that table
for eight seconds, doc.

I'm one of the few who's gone to
the other side and made it back.

And what happened on the other side?

I saw an angel...

holding a trash bag.

A trash bag?

You know, like, for leaves.

And she was just holding it,
and I just took...

all the collected bullshit
from the last 20 years

and put it in that bag.

Twist-tied it, and I chucked it
into the spiritual dumpster.

It's gone.

This temple is clean, baby.

What about Vivica?

Yeah. She's in the blue bin.
For recycling.

Terrence, when...

When a person has had
an experience with a trauma,

like the one you've been through,

it is natural for the body
to have certain responses.

Like?

- Sleep disruption, recurring memories.
- Nope.

- Sensitivity to noise, nightmares?
- Nope.

- Withdrawals, flashes of anger.
- Nope-ity nope.

- How about your injury?
- It hurts,

but it's part of the game, though.
You know? It's rehab.

Don't rehash.

Terrence...

you were shot.

Doc, people get shot every day.
This is America.

Come on!

I was laying low until I was ready
to come back. All right?

Now K.T. is black
and bletter than blever.

And I'm ready to receive my public...

in style.

How are you planning on doing that?

Is that a zip line?

Exactly. K.T. will zip-line over the crowd

onto the stage, all to the sound
of Elton John singing "The Bitch Is Back."

Why not open up the hotel roof

and have an Apache helicopter
drop him in?

Hey.

Come on in, Dr. Dani.
You've met Rob Maroney, T.K.'s agent.

Is that a zip line?

Rob was just explaining how T.K.--

K.T. would like to make his entrance
into the fan convention on Friday.

Yeah, T.K. mentioned something
about a public appearance

in front of thousands of people?

Yeah, every year,
we sell out a hotel ballroom.

Basically, it's fans dropping a bunch
of money to hang out with the players.

So, if there are
insurance or safety issues

with T.K.'s first proposal,

second proposal,

rise through the floor
with air gun cannons banging confetti.

Wow, okay. Am I the only one
that thinks that's a bad idea?

I'm sorry, a really bad idea?

No, you are not.

Coach, you are in the middle
of a PR virus.

You gotta change the conversation

from the Pittman death match
to your hero player.

He threw the block
that won you a playoff game,

took two bullets, survived.

That is the feel-good story
of the millennia.

Grown men weep,
little kids wet their diapees,

and T.K. jerseys
fly off the shelf, $59.95 a pop.

And you...

You are off the hot seat, Coach.

I hate to be the one to pour
cold water on your PR juggernaut here,

but the man was shot.

Post-traumatic stress disorder
often doesn't present itself

until four to six weeks after the fact.
As in right about now.

So until we can assess
his state of mind...

They caught the shooter!

T.K. is practically
the Dalai-fricking-Lama.

What more do you people want
from this guy?

His refusal to talk about what happened
is a telltale sign of PTSD.

I don't know from PTSD.

What I do know is that athletic careers
are made or lost on perception.

To shut down the doubters
on talk radio and around the league,

it is crucial to T.K.'s future
that he surface.

Come on, Matt, Coach.
You know what I'm talking about.

Dani's the mental-health expert.

If she thinks it's a bad idea,
then I defer to her opinion.

Dr. Dani's track record speaks for itself.

Fine. I'll go to the GM's office.

See what they think about you banning
their star player from their convention.

So bird is to nest, as...?

B, dog is to doghouse?

That sounds like the right answer.

But it's not.

When you're doing analogies,
the first step

is to analyze the nature
of the relationship,

then eliminate
which answers are clearly wrong.

But when I analyze a relationship,
I try to see what's right,

not what's wrong.

Isn't it hard for you to concentrate
with this music on?

No. I feel like it...
It puts me in the right mood.

- Okay.
- Here. Let me try it on my own,

just to see if I understand.

Iron is to magnet...

as I am to you.

You know, attracted.

- What are you doing?
- Analogies.

You good-looking jocks
are so full of yourselves.

Think you were gonna
bag me like a dumb cheerleader?

I think you're a smartass, not a dumb--

Look, that came out wrong.

I read books that don't have pictures.

You think Two and a Half Men is funny.

There is no chance
that you and I will hit it,

now or tomorrow
or a hundred years from tomorrow.

But you did say I was good-looking, right?

You're missing receipts
for 2009 and 2010.

What? I thought you were just
auditing us for last year's taxes.

Well, by law, we have the right to assess
back taxes as far as three years.

Look, my ex, my stupid ex-husband,

he ran the business,

so it seems unfair for me
to get stuck with half the tax bill

when he's the one at fault.
Don't you think?

Well, remember those vows,
"for better or worse?"

Guess which one this is.

No, no, no.

Damn it, Cassie,
do you know how to spell King?

K-I-N-G?

Right. Yeah. Very good.
You're the G, girl.

So if you stand in front of the N,
looks like my name is pronounced Kign.

Diddy would never put up with this.

So we're gonna have to do this
over and over again

until somebody gets it right.

Hey, King Terrence!

What's up? Maroney!
How you doing, boy?

- How are you?
- I'm all right, you know.

I'm just hammering out some
choreography with the T-kettes.

They're gonna part the seas
for K.T.'s resurrection.

Yeah, listen, K.T.,
we have to talk about that,

and your therapist.

Take five, T-kettes.

Juliette has stone-cold disappeared.

No activity on her credit cards
or cell phone in the past six days.

Six days?

I even had her e-mail hacked.

Other than the ones she sent you, nada.

Remember her good friend, Kurt?

- Yeah.
- See if you can track him down.

And the other thing you inquired about.

- Anything there?
- Oh, yeah.

He's having a liquidity meltdown.

Leveraged all his
real-estate holdings to the hilt,

- and it goes on and on and on.
- Oh, Jesus.

Pittman's debt is twice his asset base.

The Hawks are on life support.

Yeah, well,
let's just hope Juliette is not.

Terrence, we didn't have an--

You tried to get me booted
from the convention?

What?

Now, who do you think you are,

telling the team
I'm not ready to go out in public?

Yeah. My agent told me everything.

How you're trying to keep me
from the fans.

I trusted you, Dr. D.

Now you're going behind my back
trying to sabotage me?

Whoa, now! Hold on a second.

The team pays me for my opinion
about the best interests of its players.

And, yes, I think that you need
more time to process what happened.

I know what happened!

NDE.

Near-death experience.

Okay, yeah, fine, I came roaring back.

Bitches can't kill me
with a couple of slugs!

Why is that so hard for you to get?

Because not all scars
are visible, Terrence.

Because you got shot.

And a trauma like that can really
rock a person's foundation.

My foundation wasn't rocked.

It is a rock!

Everybody waiting
for the king to cry. You know?

Look, I'm telling you right now.
I'm from the 'hood.

People get shot. I'm not crying.

Nobody lives in my head.

Nobody tells me what to do.

And can't nobody tell me
what's best for me, not even you.

I'm going to that convention.

Ain't no two ways about that.

And there's nothing that you or your
little expert opinion can do to stop me.

2009 and 2010, Mrs. Santino.

What if I lose my job and can't afford
to send Ray Jay to college?

What if he doesn't get into college?

What if I lose the house?

What if T.K. really thinks
he's talking to squirrels?

And I can't burden Matt
with this IRS thing.

Ain't nothing less attractive than
a woman with a mountain of debt.

Know what I'm saying?

Ever feel like you're just
underwater sometimes?

That was a joke!

Come on. You know that was funny.

- Who are you talking to, Mom?
- Oh, my God.

Which sounds worse,

no one, or Mr. Fishy?

It's 2 in the morning
and you're baking?

Biscotti.

Is everything okay?
I saw all those receipts in your bed.

What are you guys doing up
at 2 in the morning?

- And why are you baking...?
- Biscotti.

Biscause-- Becat--

Because...

I want you to go to college!

Up All Night with Irv Superfon!

And we're back, talking with New York
Hawks receiver Terrence King

who was telling us about
his near-death experience.

That sounds intense.

Mondo intense, Irv.

Nothing puts your life
in perspective like being dead.

I'll bet. The whole city
was worried about you.

How are you these days?

You know what, physically, I'm good.

I'm even better metaphysically.

I'm an intergalactic tuning fork.

My molecules are vibrating
in the same frequency as the planet.

That's what happens
when you go to the other side, Irv.

So, T.K.-- Sorry. K.T.,

rumors are flying,
and the fans wanna know,

will you be at the Hawks fan convention?

You're not on the program.

That's an epic typo, Irv.

That's 180 degrees opposite of true.

King Terrence
is gonna be at that conference,

you best believe, with barbells on!

Hey, T.K.! What's the score now?

T.K.? T.K.?

Are you still with us?

I guess we must have lost him.

T.K. is furious at me.

That agent threw me under the bus.

Whatever happened to
deferring to the expert?

T.K. went on talk radio this morning
telling everybody he was gonna be there.

The GM blinked. He doesn't wanna
disappoint the fans, so...

- Coach?
- It's done, doctor.

If T.K. wants to dance
at the convention tomorrow night,

frankly, I can't go toe-to-toe
with the GM over that.

I'm sorry, Dani. We've got...

bigger problems right now.

Why? What's happening?

Layoffs.

About a third of the staff.

- Effective immediately.
- Why?

The Pittmans' fortune is all tied up
in this divorce. Asset-rich but cash-poor.

Overnight, we've gone
from playoff team to paupers.

Kurt, right? Long time no see.

That hurts.

- Where is she?
- I haven't seen Juliette in like forever.

That hurts! Okay.

Three days ago, I get a call
from a guy, sometimes buys for her.

- And?
- He wanted me to score a bottle of Oxy

and sleeping pills,
enough for a freaking elephant.

You hear from her again,
I'm your first call.

You understand? Your very first.

Marshall, I haven't heard from you
in six weeks.

These hide-and-seek games,
enough's enough.

You wanna play cat-and-mouse
with your team, that's fine,

but your daughter, Juliette,
I think she's in real trouble.

You call me back. Soon.

2009, 2010.
Color-coded just like the others.

Okay. Let's get started.

Oh, and I also brought some snacks,

just in case we were here
for a little while.

Biscotti?

I love biscotti.

- May I?
- Please.

Delicate.

Well-balanced. Crisp, but not dense.

Crap.

It's open!

I'm here to pick up my check.

Yeah, it's on the counter.

Well...

I'll see you around school.

Hey, Olivia,

about the other day,

I was out of line.

You're a senior,
and I was trying to impress you,

and instead I disrespected you,
so I'm sorry.

That's okay.

I probably overreacted.

My mom says that my outrage meter
is set very low.

See you're working on it.
How's it going?

Oh, it's great.

I just lied.

It's the opposite of great.

I can't do these math problems.

Getting into college with my grades?

It's a joke.

Honestly...

I feel like I'm drowning.

You really should try Mrs. Bernstein.

She's an exceptionally talented
and patient tutor.

But she's got that mole on her chin.

- And she spits when she talks.
- And she spits when she talks.

Well, there are plenty of other tutors
who don't spit.

Yeah.

But I prefer a tough, brilliant,
funny tutor who puts me in my place.

And there's not a lot of those.

I guess, technically,
I do still owe you half a session.

Peace pretzel?

Maybe?

- Okay.
- You can't resist.

- Oh, you're just gonna take them?
- Oh, yeah.

Well, I think
with what we've done here today,

we might be able to come
to some sort of a compro--

A compro...? What's a compro...?

No. Not...
What I meant to say was--

Are you okay?

This doesn't have hazelnuts
in it, does it?

- Yeah. Why?
- I'm allergic! Deathly!

Oh, my God! 911?

No! EpiPen! In the drawer!

Chip, of course I understand
this isn't gonna help my case.

Yeah, listen, I got about a half an hour

before I need to be
at the Hawks convention,

so can we just talk
about this debacle tomorrow?

Bye.

Oi. Yeah.

Ray Jay?

Anybody home?

Ray Jay?

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Mom, it's not what it looks like.

Mrs. Bernstein's gonna be
your tutor now.

Old, ugly Mrs. Bernstein!

Hi, Mrs. Santino. I'm Olivia.

Hello, Olivia. You're fired.

Ma!

No, no, no. Olivia!

Ray Jay, talk to you later, okay?

Am I not entitled to some privacy
around here?

Excuse me? I just found you
in bed with your tutor!

I'm not doing this.

- We need to talk.
- There's nothing to talk about.

There's a few things to talk about.

I said we're not talking about this.

And I just said we are!

Mom, if you say one more word,
I'm leaving.

- Ray Jay. I--
- Yep. Thank you. Yep.

Divorce is always a game-changer.

I've had two of them.

As far as T.K. goes, you'll all get
to see for yourselves tonight.

Go! Go!

Go!

- Hey. Dani.
- Oh, I'm sorry I'm late.

- Where is he?
- Backstage.

How you doing?

I almost killed a tutor, an IRS agent
and my son, all in the same day,

so don't get too close, because
I'm like the black widow over here.

IRS?

I'm being audited by the IRS.

I may owe over 80 grand
in back taxes.

Why didn't you tell me?

I'm underwater,
and you've got so much to deal with.

I'm not gonna drag you down with me.

Not likely. Certified lifeguard.

I'm not trying to fix the fixer here,

but when you're drowning,
you just gotta reach for a hand.

- That's hard for me.
- It's hard for everybody.

Just remember, I'm here.

- How's T.K.?
- Nervous. Back here.

Look at this guy.

He is a freaking warrior.

What up, boy? How you doing?

I'm ready to get out there
and do the damn thing!

Hey, now, this is what support looks like.

Rob Maroney,
my very own human jockstrap.

- Five minutes, Mr. King.
- That's the perfect amount of time

for me to get my mojo. Namaste.

Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to Fan Fest 2012!

Now, I want you to be a human sponge.

You get out there, you soak up the love
from 6,000 of your closest friends.

- I'm watching you.
- You better be!

You're perspiring quite a bit.
Are you feeling all right?

I'm good. It's just a little bit
of restless leg syndrome.

Girl, I-- What you trying to say?
I'm good.

Do me a favor, yeah?
Keep an extra eye on Terrence.

The place is secure from top to bottom.

Dani, don't worry.
Nothing will happen to him.

You have my word.

Ladies and gentlemen...

the moment
you have been waiting for,

your 2011-2012
Northeastern Division champions.

Let's hear it for your New York Hawks!

And finishing his fourth season
with the New York Hawks,

wide receiver, number 88,
hometown hero Terrence King!

Jesus. He brought a gun?

Glock, 9 mm. Semi-automatic.

It takes 5 and a half seconds to shoot
all 17 of these bullets in this magazine.

I'm sorry. I never saw that coming.

No, but someone else did.

And she was pretty damn vocal about it.

I can't believe I almost did that.

I know.

Terrence, what you're going through
is normal.

Pretending that it's not happening,

that will make it worse.

When I was 5,

I almost drowned
in the town swimming pool.

It was awful.

It seemed like I was down there forever.

And then this hand, my mother's hand,

finally appeared,

and all I needed to do
was reach out and grab it.

But when you're drowning,

it's like you can't see
what's right in front of you.

So when you're ready
to reach for that hand...

it's right here.

Nico. Juliette surfaced.

Credit card activity, today.

- What? Where?
- Craziest thing. She's here.

- In New York?
- Here in the hotel.

Room 1510.

Juliette!

Juliette?

Juliette?

- Marshall?
- Nico.

It's been a while.

- Where's Juliette?
- Vacationing at my villa on Bora Bora.

It's good to get off the grid
every so often, don't you think?

You set me up.

You wanted me to think she was dead.
Is that it?

Even for you, that's twisted!

That feeling you have right now?

It's the same feeling I had when
I realized you were screwing my wife.

Now we're even.

Almost.