We stood there holding each other, both processing the fear, both trying to be strong for the other. Eventually we made our way to the bedroom, neither of us having the energy for anything except sleep.
But once we were in bed, sleep wouldn't come.
I lay on my back staring at the ceiling while Luca pressed against my side, one arm draped across my chest. Both of us too wired to relax, too stressed to let go.
"What's the worst case scenario?" I asked the darkness.
"For me? Prison. Long sentence, probably. RICO charges are serious." Luca's voice was flat. "For you? Depends on whether they can prove conspiracy or just obstruction. Could be probation. Could be jail time."
"And best case?"
"Emilio gets charges dropped before they're filed. Or we fight it in court and win." He shifted closer. "But realistically? We're looking at a trial. Probably a long one."
"How long?"
"Year or more before it even gets to trial. Then the trial itself could take months." His arm tightened around me. "It's going to be hell, Valentino. I won't lie about that."
"But we'll be together through it?"
"If you want to be. If you don't walk away first."
I turned to face him. "I'm not walking away. How many times do I have to say that before you believe me?"
"I believe you now. I'm just waiting for you to change your mind when this gets really ugly."
"I'm not changing my mind." I kissed him. "You're stuck with me. Through conspiracy charges, federal trials, whatever comes next."
"You're an idiot for choosing this."
"Probably. But I'm your idiot."
He kissed me then, deep and desperate, and we lost ourselves in each other for a while. Not sex—we were both too emotionally exhausted—just kissing and touching and holding on to each other like lifelines.
When we finally broke apart, I tucked my head under his chin and let my eyes close.
"Whatever happens," I said quietly, "we face it together."
"Together," he agreed.
We fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, both trying to find comfort in the darkness.
The next morning I woke to my phone buzzing on the nightstand.
Alex Park. Calling for the third time this week.
I'd been avoiding him since I'd seen that message from Reeves on his phone at the coffee shop. Couldn't trust him anymore, couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't maintain the friendship knowing he was feeding information to a federal agent investigating me.
But I also missed him. Missed having a friend outside of Luca's world. Missed the journalism school camaraderie, the easy conversations about stories and sources and the industry.
I stared at the phone until it stopped ringing. Then it immediately started again.
"You should answer it," Luca said from beside me. He was already awake, probably had been for a while. "You can't avoid him forever."
"I can try."
"Valentino."
"What am I supposed to say to him? 'Hey Alex, sorry I've been distant, I've just been under FBI investigation because I'mdating a mob boss who initially coerced me into compliance'?" I sat up. "There's no conversation that doesn't end badly."
