“Fine. Just business. Go back to sleep.”
She settles again, trusting, and guilt sits heavy in my chest. Tonight was supposed to be about honesty. About showing her everything. About no more secrets.
But how can the truth be told when the truth is that loving me might destroy her life in ways she can’t imagine? When federal investigations and RICO charges and witness protection programs might become her new reality?
Sleep refuses to return. Instead, the hours pass watching Elena sleep, memorizing the way she looks in my bed, the way she fits against me, the way she chose me despite every reason not to.
And planning. Always planning. How to protect her. How to keep her away from the fallout that’s coming. How to make sure that when this all falls apart, and it will fall apart, eventually, she walks away clean.
Even if that means pushing her away first.
Morning comes too soon. Elena wakes slowly, stretching like a cat, then wincing slightly. “I’m going to feel this for days.”
“Good.” The satisfaction in the word is real. “I want you remembering exactly who you belong to.”
She laughs, then notices my expression. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just—” The sentence dies because how do you tell someone you just claimed in every possible way you might have to let them go to keep them safe?
“Alessandro.” She sits up, concern replacing satisfaction. “Talk to me. What happened?”
“Business complications. Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out now. Not after—” She gestures at the destroyed bed, the evidence of what we shared. “Not after that.”
She deserves truth. Deserves honesty. Deserves better than a man who’s dragging her into federal investigations and turf wars and violence.
“There’s—” The words stick. “There might be some legal complications coming. Federal attention. It’s probably nothing, but—”
“But it could be something.” She’s already reading between the lines, already seeing the implications. “What kind of federal attention?”
“The kind that asks uncomfortable questions about who you associate with. The kind that might try to use you as leverage against me.”
Her face goes pale. “They would come after me? Even though I haven’t done anything?”
“Association is enough in federal cases. And tesoro, you’re very clearly associated with me now.” Gesturing at the marks on her skin makes the point without words.
She processes this, and watching her realize exactly what being mine actually costs is harder than any bullet taken.
“Okay.” Her voice is steady, but fear lurks in her eyes. “Okay. What do we do?”
“We? There’s no we in this decision. You need to—”
The bedroom door crashes open.
Marco stands in the doorway, face grim, holding a tablet. “Boss, you need to see this. Now.”
“I’m busy—”
“Now.” Marco’s tone brooks no argument. “It’s about her.”
Elena pulls the sheet up, suddenly aware of her nudity, but Marco doesn’t even glance her way. His attention is fixed on me, and whatever is on that tablet has him rattled enough to violate my privacy.
“Show me.”
He crosses to the bed, turns the tablet around. On the screen is a news article in the Seattle Times, posted two hours ago.
The headline makes my blood run cold: “Federal Investigation Targets Seattle Crime Families: Dozens Expected to Face Charges.”
