“Like hell,” Nick said, falling into step beside me. “That’s my family’s house.”
I wanted to argue, wanted to make him stay back where it was safe, but I knew that stubborn set to his jaw. He wasn’t going to listen. And honestly, I loved that he didn’t cower and didn’t let me fight his battles for him.
As we got closer, I could make out more details. The man was in his forties, with graying hair and the kind of weathered face that came from years of hard living. He stood with the casual confidence of someone used to being in control, his hand resting near his weapon as he surveyed the property.
Then he turned toward us, and I saw his face and the badge clipped to his belt.
It was Detective Caruso.
“Hello, Dante,” Caruso said, his grin wickedly spreading from ear to ear. “It’s been a while.”
My blood ran cold. This was the detective that had nearly infiltrated the family business, the one that had been following me for years to put my entire family behind bars. Last thing I knew, my father was calling in a favor to have Caruso demoted or fired. So what was he doing here now?
“Detective,” I said carefully, keeping my voice neutral even though my heart was pounding. “I thought you’d moved on to greener pastures.”
“Did you now?” He took a step closer, and I noticed Nick tensing beside me. “Funny thing about that. See, I did get demoted. Your father made sure of that. But that just gave me more time to focus on what really matters.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew.
“You, Dante. Always you.” His eyes flicked to Nick, then back to me. “I’ve been watching. Waiting. Building my case. And now I finally have everything I need.”
My mind raced, trying to figure out what he could possibly have on me. I’d been careful since coming to Montana. Clean. The only thing I’d done was ranch work and fall in love with my husband. There was nothing he could pin on me.
“I don’t know what you think you have,” I started, but he cut me off.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Valenti. We found the room where Mr. Benson was tortured by you and your goons after he confessed everything to me. It seems your people didn’t do a good enough job of cleaning the blood off the floor.” He pulled out a set of handcuffs, the metal glinting in the afternoon sun.“Dante Valenti, you’re under arrest for the murders of Thomas Benson, Margaret Benson, and their two children, Emily and Jacob Benson.”
The world seemed to tilt sideways. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when I’d finally found something worth living for.
“That’s bullshit,” I said, my voice harder than I intended. “I didn’t kill anyone!”
“That’s what they all say.” Caruso moved closer, his hand on his weapon now. “Turn around. Hands behind your back. And don’t make any sudden movements.”
“Wait,” Nick said, stepping between us. “You can’t just—he didn’t do this. Whatever evidence you think you have, it’s wrong.”
“Step aside, sir,” Caruso said, his tone brooking no argument. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t,” Nick shot back. “He’s my husband.”
Something flickered in Caruso’s eyes… satisfaction, maybe, or vindication. “So, Dante married you, huh? Interesting. I’m sure the prosecution will find that detail very enlightening when we discuss motive and opportunity. Maybe I’ll have them look into this ranch and how it was acquired as well.”
My stomach dropped. It wouldn’t take a lot of digging to find out that the Wesley ranch was floundering before the marriage, or the fact that the Valentis had invested heavily before the marriage was even planned. Blackmailing someone into marriage was still illegal, even if Nick loved me now.
But there was no point in resisting. Caruso looked like he was itching to shoot me and the last thing I wanted was Nick having to watch me bleed out in the middle of the yard.
“Nick,” I said quietly. “Let him do what he came to do.”
“No,” Nick said, his voice breaking. “Dante, we can fight this. We can?—”
“Please.” I met his eyes, trying to communicate everything I couldn’t say out loud. That I loved him. That this wasn’t over. That I’d find a way back to him. “Trust me.”
I saw the moment he understood, saw the fear and anger and helplessness wash over his face. But he stepped aside, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
I turned around, putting my hands behind my back. The cold metal of the handcuffs bit into my wrists, and I heard the click as they locked into place. Caruso’s hand gripped my arm, steering me toward the SUV.
“You have the right to remain silent,” he started, and his voice faded into background noise as I looked back at Nick.
He stood there in the middle of the driveway, looking lost and broken, and it took everything in me not to fight, not to run, not to do something stupid that would make this worse. I’d spent my whole life being the tough guy, the one who solved problems with violence when necessary. And this time was no different. I couldn’t let my emotions win. I had to be the cold, tough mobster I knew how to be.
