“I know Benson talked to you,” Caruso continued. “I know he gave you up. That’s why he’s dead, isn’t it? Because he tried to do the right thing.”
“The right thing,” I repeated, almost laughing. “Is that what you call it? You’re threatening me in public. Is that what you did to Benson? To hiskid?”
His face flushed red. Again, just enough to show him I knew more than I was letting on. “Thatkidwas dealing heroin in a school zone. He deserved to be arrested.”
“Did you just admit to using a child as leverage, detective? That’s low. And what? You made his father choose between his son and his loyalty to my family? Is that your theory?” I met his eyes, letting him see the truth there. “You’re just as dirty as the criminals you hunt, Caruso. You just wear a badge while you do it.”
For a moment, I thought he might actually hit me. His fist clenched at his side, trembling with the effort of holding back. But then he seemed to remember where we were, the cameras watching from the building’s entrance.
He released my collar with a shove and stepped back.
“You’re going to slip up eventually,” he said. “And when you do, I’ll be there.”
“If you say so, officer.”
He stared at me for another long moment, his jaw working like he was chewing on words he couldn’t say. Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the Newark night.
I straightened my jacket, brushing off where his hands had wrinkled the fabric. My heart was racing—it always did after confrontations like this—but I kept my expression neutral as I walked into the building. The doorman nodded to me like nothing had happened. He knew better than to acknowledge what he’d seen.
The elevator ride to my penthouse felt longer than usual. I kept thinking about Caruso’s words, the accusation in his eyes. He wasn’t wrong about Benson. They were gone. Marco had been efficient, as always. Nobody in New Jersey would ever see them again, especially not Detective Caruso.
Maybe it was time to take him down a peg or two.
The moment I shut the penthouse door behind me, I called up Angelo.
“Hey, boss.”
“Angelo,” I said, stepping into the kitchen. “Have the front entrance security footage from my building pulled and sent to the Chief of Police. I was just assaulted by Detective Caruso. Let the Chief know that if he doesn’t do something about it, the footage will be on the six o’clock news from coast to coast by Monday.”
“You got it, boss.” He paused for a moment. “You okay?”
“He roughed me up, but I’ll live.” I started to pull the phone away to hang up, but then I stopped. “Angelo, you got any family here? Wife? Kids?”
“Nah, boss. Just me. I mean, I try to visit my ma now and then, but she just moved back to Palermo, so it’s a fourteen-hour flight no matter what.”
Angelo wasn’t exactly smart or my friend, but he was reliable. And, the way things were going, I figured I could use all the help I could get.
“You wanna go to Montana?”
Chapter 5
Nick
In the month since the papers were signed, the ranch had been a flurry of activity. Dante had visited several times to meet with supplies, make purchases, and hire contractors to get the ranch back up and running again. He’d requested my presence during every visit, but I’d refused to see him. I wasn’t going to spend what little freedom I had left with that monster.
I’d watched through the living room window as more cattle were brought in, barns were upgraded, and a luxurious looking tiny house was installed on the far side of the property. The thing reeked of money and stood out like a sore thumb. But it was going to be my new home as soon as Dante and I were married.
The thought made me sick.
Despite having a month to make a plan or figure out how to get out of this entire mess, I came up empty-handed. I’d read through the contract at least a hundred times, searching for some kind of loophole. But there wasn’t one. And even if I found one, my family’s lives were on the line. People like the Valentis didn’t let their investments go easily. There would be a price to pay, they’d made sure of that.
So, when the morning of the wedding finally arrived, I knew I was beaten. I dressed quietly and went downstairs, a suitcasefull of clothing waiting by the door to go to my new home with me. My mother tried to offer me coffee and food, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stomach either. I was too filled with dread and anticipation to consume anything.
My father appeared in the kitchen doorway, already dressed in his Sunday best. He looked older than he had a month ago, the weight of what he’d done etched into every line of his face.
“It’s time,” he said quietly.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Heather came down the stairs behind him, wearing a pale blue dress. She’d offered to come with us to the courthouse, to stand as a witness. I’d told her she didn’t have to, but she’d insisted. Said she needed to be there. Needed to see this through since it should have been her in my place.
