“Her father was a decorated cop. Come on Roman. I know you don’t like her, but she doesn’t deserve to die. Not when I’m the one who put her up to investigating Rocco and Leo’s wife.”
“Okay, but…”
“Don’t say it. I know. I’m on my own.” It’s the first time I feel abandoned by my brothers in La Corona. But I don’t have to whine about it.
I start toward the exit when my phone starts buzzing. I check and see the silent alarm is going off in a private warehouse Iown. No one should be there. It’s empty right now since moving my contraband product elsewhere.
My phone rings. It’s Angelo.
“Yeah, I see it.”
“My crew is moving inventory, but I think I can get?—”
I need him to move the inventory. Keeping my business moving is why Olivia has never caught me in a compromising position.
“I’ll go.” When I hang up, I text Mario.Keep eyes on subject at all times. She should be safe until I deal with this alarm.
But when I’m done, not even Olivia will be able to save Blackwood from my wrath.
OLIVIA
The empty office feels like a different world on Saturday. The usual bustle replaced by silence. I drop my bag on my desk and sink into my chair.
I’ve tried to sort my life out, but in the end, Dom is right, without the FBI, who am I? The thought stings because it's true. I've built my entire identity around this badge.
I can't even bring myself to process what Roman revealed about my father.
Every time my mind drifts toward reconciling the man I idolized with a cop on the take, something inside me slams shut. The cognitive dissonance is too much to bear.
It won’t be like this forever, I remind myself. I’ll finish my job here and then find something stable and safe to support me and my child.
I pull up the case files I've been building, forcing myself to focus on Blackwood instead. This, at least, is something concrete I can grasp. Something I can fight.
Three weeks ago, my biggest concern was building a case against Dominic Vitale.
Now I'm carrying his child and questioning everything I thought I knew about justice, about my father, my boss, and about myself.
"Get it together, Ricci," I mutter, rubbing my temples, like it will sooth away the hurt and betrayal. The profound sense of loneliness and loss since leaving Dom.
God, I miss him in a way that makes no sense. His voice, his touch, even his infuriating confidence.
The space he once occupied in my life is a cavernous hole. I knew when it started, it would end.
But I had no idea how much it would gut me.
I’m strong. I will survive. I’ve decided the best way to get over him is to avoid him, which is why I've blocked him from contacting me.
I try not to think about how wrong it is to keep our child from him.
If only he’d leave his life, then maybe things would be different.
His identity might not be wrapped up in being a don like mine is being a federal agent, but it is wrapped up in his family.
He won’t leave them and it would be wrong to ask him too.
I open my email and mindlessly sort through messages, but my thoughts keep circling back to the same question: What comes next?
I could be an FBI agent and a mother. Women do it every day. But I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder wondering if criminals or my corrupt colleagues are out to get me.
