"Olivia is the key to bringing down Blackwood," I continue. "Whatever's between us doesn't change that. If someone's manipulating our families from inside the FBI, that's a threat to all of us."
"And if she turns on you?" Roman asks. "On us?"
"Then I'll handle it. Like I've handled every other threat to our family." I hope he can’t see how it would be impossible for me to kill Olivia. “Look, I get it. But right now, Blackwood needs to pay for what he did to Rocco.”
Something shifts in his expression at the mention of Rocco. He has a daughter. He understands.
"Getting justice Rocco is non-negotiable and I’ll bet my right nut that Luca and Elena agree. After that... whatever happens to me doesn't matter."
Roman studies me for a long moment.
"La Corona comes first," I say simply. "It always has. But Blackwood needs to pay for what he's done, and Olivia's our best shot at making that happen."
He drains his glass, setting it down on my desk. "Then I'll help you. But Dom—" he pauses, making sure I'm listening "—don't fool yourself into thinking there's a happy ending here. Not for you and her."
I nod once. "I stopped believing in happy endings a long time ago."
OLIVIA
I sit on my couch, staring into space. No TV, no music. Just a jumble of thoughts and a profound feeling of emptiness.
Everything I believed about my life has been a lie. My father, my hero, was on the take.
My boss is very likely a thief and a murderer.
The foundation of my identity is crumbling beneath me.
My phone sits on the coffee table where I tossed it after my call with Blackwood. That conversation keeps replaying in my mind as I try to decipher any clues or maybe I’m just paranoid.
"Agent Ricci," he'd said, his voice carrying that familiar authoritative tone. "Your absence has been noted. Care to explain?"
I'd decided to test him, to see his reaction. "I was attacked outside my apartment, sir. Someone warned me to stop digging."
The pause that followed lasted only seconds but felt much longer.
"Attacked? Why wasn't this reported immediately?" His concern sounded genuine, but something in his voice didn't sit right.
Or maybe I’m projecting.
Maybe Dom has warped my mind.
Was that his goal this whole time?
"I was unconscious. By the time I came to, I needed time to process what happened."
"Where have you been staying?" His question told me he knew I wasn’t home. Did Dom lie to me when he said no one was looking for me?
"I stayed with a friend. Didn't want to be alone.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Rattled but fine. I like a few more days off.”
He didn’t say anything at first. I was prepared for him to say that my cases can’t afford for me to be away. “Take the time you need. We’ll make do without you.”
I can’t decide if his words suggested I’m not needed or he wanted me away, so I don’t poke my nose where I don’t belong. God, I’m such a mess.
Now I sit here, feeling like I’m in a three-way tug of war between two worlds. Dom's world, where justice and morality bend to protect family.
