ALESSANDRO I lean back in the rickety chair of the interrogation room, taking a sip of the horrible coffee. Surely the Fed's can afford something better than this? The door opens, and Agent Connely walks in, smirking when he catches the look on my face after I tasted the horror of the awful coffee. "Yeah, rather don't drink that." He takes the chair opposite me and throws a file on the table. "Are you sure you want to do this? You can walk out the door right now and go on with your life. You fulfilled your part of the bargain." "I'm sure, book me." I push the coffee away from me. "Guess I'm going to have to get used to this coffee if I'm going to jail, right?" "Apart from undercover agents, I've never met a man who willingly wanted to go to jail." Connely shakes his head. "They're already calling me a snitch on the streets. If I walk away from this unscathed, they will know that it's true." I tell him. On the streets, being a snitch is the worst asshole one can be. And I'm sure
ALESSANDRO I hope Farrah is okay. By now, she must know that I'm arrested. I told her about the Whittle deal I made with the FBI, so I just hope she knows I will be all rightI can't have her worrying about me when she's in the hospital trying to stay alive and keep our babies out of harm's way. I have to do this so that the rest of the people in the mafia think I'm still dealing with illegal shit. If they knew me, they would know I don't dabble in humans, but the older men won't have a problem with it. Connely escorts me himself to the cells after they've taken my fingerprints and picture and all of my personal belongings. This is the city, and so crimes are being committed every second, so the cells here are always full. This is not my first time being booked. I was seventeen when I first got picked up by the cops for fighting, but that charge never stuck. My father paid who he had to, and I never even made it to the bail hearing. The officer with us is definitely not on my pa
FARRAH There's a cold compress on my forehead, and Phoebe is now massaging my feet with what smells like lavender and mint. Classical music is playing, creating a calm atmosphere. Supposedly calm according to my sister, who is trying to get my mind off the fact that my husband is fucking locked up. For human trafficking no less. I know he has the deal with the FBI, so why the hell did they arrest him? I don't have the heart to tell Phoebe that the smell of mint is actually making me nauseous. She's been doing everything to try to keep me calm ever since we saw the damn news. The media is probably having a field day. There's a soft knock, and I open my eyes to see Dario's head pop into the door. He's a sight for sore eyes. "Can I come in?" He asks softly. I press the button to elevate the bed. "Please, and switch off that music for fuck's sake!" Phoebe looks offended and immediately stops massaging my feet. "For your information, playing classical music during pregnancy helps
ALESSANDRO My brother's eyes widen when he sees me the next morning. "Are you okay? What happened?" I smirk. "You should see the other guys." I'm sporting a black eye from the one shot one of those fuckers got in. Dario comes closer to me to hug me. "Farrah is worried we're sitting ducks. She thinks the others will try to take us out while you're locked up. And Thomas is fucking missing. He hasn't been seen since yesterday, and he hasn't checked in with Alma either." "Fuck!" I search his eyes and see how concerned he is. And I trust Farrah's gut. If she feels something is off, it usually is. But how the hell are we going to get her out of the hospital when she has to be there? And where the fuck is Thomas! "What about security at the hospital?" I want to know. "There are four rotating guards. They seem pretty adequate." I know Thomas would have gotten the best in the business. I told him to take care of my family while I couldn't, so where the hell could he be? I find it har
FARRAH "You can't leave the hospital." Phoebe drags both her hands through her hair. "We have to come up with something else. Plus, I think you're being paranoid." I don't know how to explain it to her. All I know is that my gut is never wrong, and I can feel that impending gloom. Nobody is hurting my babies, I would kill them first. Even if I have to do it kicking and bleeding. "I'm not paranoid." I sigh. I wish Alessandro would let me in on his damn plans and stop leaving me blindsided. "Call in one of the bodyguards." Phoebe looks at me skeptically, but do as I ask. The guy is well-built and looks like he belongs on a magazine cover and not outside my hospital room. He nods his head at me. "Mrs. Moretti." I'm still not used to being called that, but I do like the ring to it. "Do you know where Thomas is?" I ask. There's no way he just dropped off the face of the earth. "No ma'am. Thomas just gave us strict instructions that the door should be guarded at all times and that
ALESSANDRO Edward Whittle looks like I'm going to jump him any minute. But like I told him, I'm not here for him. He deserves to go to trial for what he's done, to be torn apart by the public and sentenced. Killing him would be a mercy he doesn't deserve. The asshole starts crying after I don't give him any attention, and I look at him in utter disgust. Those girls in that container were crying, too. I wonder how many girls he's smuggled in containers over the years. What has happened to those girls, were they still alive? Edward Whittle should get life in prison and become the bitch of a thousand men. And even that punishment won't be enough. He follows me around like a little puppy when it's dinner time. The dude jumps at the tiniest noise. That's what you get when you play on the wrong side of the law, and you don't think of the consequences. The inmates seem to know who I am and avoid me, so I get my food that looks like someone puked on it in peace, with my entourage of o
FARRAH "Is something going on here that I should know about?" Damian looks accusingly at me in Dr. Sanchez's office. "I've been calling Abe with no luck." Abe is the other bodyguard who's currently on shift. "I think that was my husband's uncle on the way to my room." I gulp, my heart rate skyrocketing. "I'm not sure, but with everything going on with my husband right now, I think he might be trying to hurt me." Hurt is a mild word, but Dr. Sanchez is in the room, and she already looks freaked out. I don't want to worry her any more than she already is. "And you were planning to do what exactly?" Damian wants to know. "I need to get out of here." "Against my advice!" Dr. Sanchez looks at me like I'm crazy. "What if you need blood? You do realize how serious your condition is, right? You are not just risking the lives of the babies, but yours, too." "I'm a sitting duck in the hospital." I shake my head at her. "And if someone kills me, there will be no babies or me anyway. Trus
FARRAH "Oh my God!" I scream. "T.J!" Damian doesn't even stay at the crash. He just swerves his car and goes around the wreck. "What are you doing?" Kevin shouts at him. "You have to stop, we have to help her!" "Are you okay? "Damian looks at me in the rearview mirror. "I'm fucking fine!" I'm about to lose it. We just left a kid there in a crashed car. "We have to go back and help her." Damian is still calm as he grabs his phone from the console and dials 911. He calmly tells the operator that there was a crash with the address, and then he disconnects before the operator can ask any questions. Phoebe is sobbing next to me, and I feel my own tears wetting my cheeks. We just left Alma there. What if she was badly hurt? Who was that behind the wheel of the truck, and why did he crash into her? The windows weren't even tinted of the car. If they were looking for me, they would've been able to see I wasn't in that car. "The three of you better listen to me and listen to me carefu