Dark thoughts grip me, dragging me toward madness. It’s past three in the morning, and Tony still isn’t home. He left right after dropping me off. I’ve been waiting for hours, desperate for answers. I need him to tell me what happened today, who dared to make such a reckless move.
Growing up in the dangerous world of the mafia taught me a lot, but confrontations like this are rare. An attack like today’s, in broad daylight, in front of witnesses, is not something anyone takes lightly. God help us if it’s who I think it is.
Exhausted from pacing, I sink onto the couch and stare at the sleepless city. The lights never go out, a constant reminder that this city never sleeps. Yet its towering, lifeless buildings do nothing but amplify my anxiety. Reaching for the remote on the table, I close the curtains, shutting out the oppressive view. The drapes are still gliding shut when the door opens, and Tony walks in.
Straightening my posture, I watch him carefully. His eyes are dull and weary, his tailored suit no longer crisp like it was this morning. He pauses when he sees me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod silently, my gaze trailing him as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over the back of an armchair. He makes his way to his beloved liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink.
“Why are you still awake?” he asks, not looking at me.
“I was waiting for you,” I say softly.
Glass in hand, he comes to sit beside me, sinking heavily into the couch. He leans back, closing his eyes as he presses the square crystal glass against his temple. I notice fresh cuts on his knuckles, the jagged lines standing out against his skin.
His lips move just enough to form a faint whisper, “Worried about me?”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
He takes a sip of his drink, shaking his head slightly without opening his eyes. His voice is weary, but his words are steeped in arrogance and unshakable confidence—the kind of confidence that does nothing to calm me, “A meteor hitting Earth right now is more likely than someone hurting me.”
I can’t help the bite that creeps into my tone. “What makes you so sure of yourself?”
He opens his eyes and sits up straight, fixing me with a cold stare. The exhaustion vanishes from his voice. “My power.”
Taking another sip of his drink, he adds, “I’m the king of this city.”
I’m smart enough not to challenge him on that. Instead, I cut straight to the point. “Did you figure out who was behind the attack?”
“I did.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. Instead, he toys with the glass in his hand, ignoring me completely.
“Well? Who was it?”
“Can’t you guess?”
I clench my fist so hard, my nails bite into my palm. God, no. Please, no.
He seems to notice my tension. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen. I won’t let it.”
I rise to my feet, my legs shaky as I put some distance between us.
“How much is the bounty on our heads?” I ask, pressing a hand to my aching chest.
He doesn’t even try to soothe me. “Enough to send you into labor right now.”
Tears gather in my eyes. “Dead or alive?”
I hear the rustle of his clothes as he rises from the couch. His hand lands warmly on my belly, his breath brushing against my ear.
“He wants you alive for sure. Me…preferably alive.”
When I close my eyes, a tear escapes down my cheek. “Oh God, no.”
His other arm wraps around me, pulling me closer against him. His breathing grows heavier.
