I beckoned Eli over to the car. “You ready?” He nodded, his little face fixed with determination, and somehow I just knew he’d be good at this. I knew he’d watch and listen with unwavering focus as I leaned over the engine. Eli leaned over next to me, and when I pointed, he didn’t hesitate. He fol
Layla The clinking of cutlery and the soft murmur of Eli’s voice filled the small dining room. Aldo’s presence was like a shadow on our dinner, turning the taste of my Nonna’s lasagne recipe to ash in my mouth. But as Eli talked, relating the hours spent with Aldo working on the car, his eager gri
Aldo Afternoon light streamed through the oversized windows of the manor as I made my way from my office to the kitchen, drawn by the very distinct smell of Melissa Marcello’s cooking. I had not one but two personal chefs—and still, my mother’s cooking was better. She didn’t venture into the kitc
She shook her head. “I didn’t expect it. I got home from work and … there they were.” “That’s my mother for you,” I admitted, and for the first time I saw the flip side to her unyielding determination. “When she decides something is important, there’s no stopping her. Layla’s gaze stayed fixed on
Dinners at the Marcello estate ranged from lonely—when I arrived home from work at an odd hour and gobbled leftovers at the kitchen counter—to downright boisterous. Today was the latter. Eli had insisted we join Aldo and his mother Melissa, along with Carlo and another of Aldo’s closer confidants.
Naturally, I bristled at that, too. “Maybe I want to go.” His perfect black brows curved upwards in a perfect arch. “Oh? And why is that?” “Clearly, I’m part of this world now, whether I like it or not.” I crossed my arms, leveled him with an unblinking stare. “Might as well know what I’m up again
Aldo Breath flowed smoothly from my nose, and my heart beat steadily against my ribs. I kept my gaze fixed on the woman in front of me as we circled each other. The mats beneath our feet softened the sound of our movements, but nothing escaped my notice. Layla lunged. I feinted sideways, caught
His grin only widened as I approached. “Aldo Marcello. How good to see you.” The words were soft, smooth. Predatory. I didn’t bother with any of his games. “You’re a hard man to kill, Mr. Ricci. Or is it Moretti now?” “Maybe so.” Marco chuckled, unfazed by my words, and reached for the glass of
AldoThe Marcello estate hadn’t seen a night like this in far too long. Since Layla and I had wed on this same lawn—nearly a year ago now. How had it been so long? How had time passed so quickly?And more importantly: How had we been married for so many months, yet shared so few moments like this on
I was late to Eli Marcello’s party. But I was also on the hunt, and as a cop, one of those things definitely took precedent. Eli’s party would go on for another several hours. And he’d be ten for an entire year after that.But I’d found a clue, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to follow it.I was
One week since I’d given the order.One week since I’d unleashed the Marcello family on the streets of New York with orders to take no prisoners.One week since I’d declared war on the Rossetti family.I sat at the head of the long table, trying to force myself to eat.The rest of the table’s occupa
The estate bustled with movement: Marcello men arming themselves, strategizing, talking shit, waving proverbial fists at the enemy, posturing, preparing for war … All the things men did. But still, they awaited my command.I stood at the head of the table in the grand dining room, where a makeshift
Fear.Shit.“Where is he?” I demanded.Carlo jerked his head toward a nearby room. “The doctors are with him now. It was bad, Layla. The explosion took out half the building. We were lucky to get him out alive.”I nudged past him and into the room.Aldo lay on the hospital bed, his face pale, a deep
LaylaAldo had missed another dinner.Or, rather, he was in the process of missing it. I sat at the head of the long dining table, where he’d normally sit; for some reason it felt wrong to leave it vacant. Beside me, Eli pushed food around his plate with his fork, and on his other side, Vanessa lean
EthanI, once again, found myself at the precinct long after the rest of my desk-mates and cohorts had vacated for the night. I mean, the police precinct was never truly empty—it was New York City, so the place was always hopping—but the difference between day shift and night shift was, well. Night
EthanI got to the coffee shop far earlier than was necessary—close to an hour before Vanessa and I had decided to meet—and proceeded to sulk in the corner like a loser, downing coffee.I’d long since stopped smelling the fresh-baked goods layered behind the glass counter, and I was far too nervous
“But I’m funny and charming,” Ethan said, with a smile that was indeed quite charming. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for not being able to resist.”I groaned, trying very hard not to smile myself. “This is the worst flirting I’ve ever seen.”“It’s not flirting!” Ethan protested, lifting his hands in