"They prove a pattern. And when combined with the timeline of your articles, the nature of the stories you published, the sources you protected—they prove conspiracy." He put away his phone. "But it doesn't have to be this way. Testify against Romano. Give us what we need to bring RICO charges. And I'll make sure you get immunity."
"I'm not testifying against him."
"Why?" Real frustration bled into his voice. "He coerced you. Threatened you. Used you. Why are you protecting him?"
"Because I love him." The words came out firm, clear, undeniable. "I love him. And I'm not betraying him."
"That's Stockholm syndrome."
"Call it whatever you want. I'm not changing my mind."
Reeves stared at me for a long moment. Then his expression hardened. "Then you're going down with him. I'll file charges within the week. Conspiracy to obstruct justice, at minimum. You'll be arrested, you'll face trial, and you'll spend years in prison defending a man who doesn't deserve your loyalty."
"That's my choice to make."
"It's the wrong choice." He headed for the elevator, then turned back. "Last chance, Mr. Russo. Walk away now and I'll protect you. Stay with him and I'll destroy you both."
"Then do what you have to do. But I'm not flipping."
He shook his head. "You'll regret this."
"Maybe. But at least I'll have my integrity."
He left without another word. I immediately called Luca.
"Reeves was just here," I said when he answered. "At the penthouse."
"What?" His voice went sharp with alarm. "What did he say?"
"Final warning. File charges within the week. Last chance to cooperate or I'm going down too."
"Are you okay?"
"Shaken but okay. He showed me photos, Luca. Surveillance of us. He's been documenting everything."
"I'm coming home. Right now."
"You don't have to—"
"I'm coming home." His voice was firm. "Stay there. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
He hung up before I could argue. I paced the penthouse, adrenaline making me jittery, trying to process what had just happened.
Reeves was done playing games. He was filing charges. This was really happening.
And I'd chosen this. Chosen to stay, chosen to fight, chosen Luca over immunity.
The question was whether that choice would destroy us both.
Luca burst into the penthouse eighteen minutes later, moving straight to me and pulling me into his arms.
"Are you okay?" His hands were on my face, my shoulders, checking me over like Reeves might have physically hurt me.
"I'm fine. He just talked." I held on to him. "But Luca, he's filing charges. Within the week. This is really happening."
"I know." He pulled back to look at me. "We need to call Emilio. Tell him what happened. Prepare."
"I told Reeves I wouldn't flip. Told him I loved you and I was choosing you." The confession came out rougher than I'd intended. "I think I made him angry."
