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MOVING FORWARD IS WHAT I’ve been doing. It seemed impossible four months back when I first came home from the Syndicate’s house. Time has passed slowly, one day at a time, and Luca has started to drift from my mind. And although day by day, the pain and emptiness of missing half of your heart does lessen, the love never disappears.

Occasionally, on random mornings, I wake up, and the ache is just as bad as when he took me home during the summer. Yet sometimes I succeed in not thinking about him at all, but then something small happens that reminds me of Luca. And I’ve just learned to live with it.

I’m actually working different temp jobs right now because I haven’t been hired full-time anywhere yet. I’m listed with an agency for administrative office work, and they usually have work for me in the area of the Loop several days a week. The tasks of the job itself are often tedious, but I’m more than happy to be working and meeting new people since I’m sent to different companies almost every week. And I’m always free to refuse a job, which I sometimes do on the days that I miss Luca most.

I’m also taking a course, Italian for Beginners, every Tuesday night because I discovered that I want those Italian words to roll off my tongue. Maybe it’s a bit masochistic, but who cares? I’m broadening my horizons. I did pick up a lot of words and short, simple sentences while I dated Luca; he would translate for me anytime I asked.

And I’m still addicted to Charmed. I’ve watched every season. Nowadays, a fun night involves Charmed and cake for me.

As I’m strolling toward the coffee shop to buy some cake, my phone vibrates in my hand: no caller ID. I hate calls without caller ID. Usually, I let it go to voicemail, but I have to answer it because it could be one of the companies I’ve applied to.

I sweep the screen with my finger. “Fallon Michaels.”

“Michaels, it’s Detective Kelli Ann Collopy.”

I halt mid-step, and the person behind me almost crashes against my back then mutters gruffly while passing me by.

Wade contacted me several weeks ago confirming they were closing the case due to lack of evidence, so I have no idea why she would be calling me.

“We’re re-opening Alex Gentry’s case, and it looks like you’re going to be our number one suspect.”

I’m still frozen, stunned, in the same position in the middle of the sidewalk.

“How? Why is it being re-opened? And why isn’t Wade calling me?” Fear instantly floods my mind.

“Stop with your incessant questions!” Collopy yells, shocking me. “The point is, you need help, and I can give it to you. I can make all your troubles go away if you pay me thirty thousand by tomorrow.”

I’m now taking slow, unsteady steps forward. This is ridiculous. She calls me to blackmail me, but I can tell she’s nervous by the tremble in her voice. I’ve only met this woman once, but she came across as poised and controlled then.

What should I do?

Just when I thought this was all beginning to blow over, something from my past with Luca comes back to haunt me. Since I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do, I’m wondering whether or not I should contact him. Or was this what Luca’s money was for? I distinctly remember him telling me a few times that I would need that money, but I assumed that referred to the fact that I was unemployed. Taking a calming breath, I palm my head. I’m not just going to pay her off this easily.

“I don’t have that kind of money,” I retort.

“Then you better get it. You have twenty-four hours and don’t even think about getting help from DeMiliano. He won’t help you, you know. He just throws them away after he’s done,” she declares with bitterness dripping in her tone. “Twenty-four hours, and I’ll call you again to let you know where to transfer the money to.” The call ends.

I consider the fact that Luca knows Collopy intimately, and a pang of misplaced possessiveness hits me. Why did she mention him? How do these two know each other?

I keep moving forward, staring at the sidewalk, with my phone pressed against my ear. But when I’m standing in front of the coffee shop window, the initial shock from Collopy’s call is immediately overruled.

Inside, sitting at our table, right by the window with an espresso, is Luca.

He glances sideways, and when he looks directly at me, the entire world around me fades away.

Why is he in our coffee shop? Has he been here often since we broke up?

Our eyes lock, and I notice the small differences in his appearance. He’s stopped shaving because the sexiest beard covers his jaw. I’ve forgotten how Luca can pull off the rugged, yet debonair, look perfectly. He’s not wearing a tie with his crisp navy suit and white dress shirt. His dark blue suit was my favorite, and I preferred him sans tie with the top buttons undone, just like he is right now. While I’ve been lost in his striking features, I’ve forgotten about the call. Again, I wonder what Luca’s doing here.

There’s one way to find out, so I step through the door and start toward his table. Only, he’s visibly not excited to see me. A frown is embedded between his brows, but I march on and pass the other tables to stop in front of him.

“Luca.” I smile uncertainly because his hard gaze isn’t exactly inviting, but I sit down across from him anyway.

It’s comforting to see him – especially after my disturbing conversation with Collopy – and I’m surprised at how badly I want to touch him, to feel him, even after so much time apart. I breathe in his cologne and release a soft sigh when the distinguishable fragrance awakens memories that I thought were long forgotten.

Luca continues to frown as he evaluates me, and I can’t detect any emotions, except maybe slight annoyance coupled with surprise. “Fallon.”

Desperate to end this awkwardness between us, I repeat the sentence I spoke at the beginning of the year when we met here. “Isn’t this a nice coincidence?” I wonder how he’s been doing and what he’s been up to.

A smirk crosses his face. “This time it is actually coincidental.”

“Really?” He hasn’t offered me a drink, and I’m sitting with my coat on and my purse still hanging over my shoulder.

“Yes.” Luca sighs and glimpses toward the back of the shop then back to me. “Sometimes I come here for an espresso.” He holds up his drink.

Obviously, he’s lying because he avoids my eyes, and I secretly hope that he comes here to somehow be closer to me. That’s the main reason why I still come here and always sit at this table.

Suddenly, he motions to my forehead. “You went to the hairdresser.”

I swipe my bangs to the side and smile, loving that he notices it because the last time I saw him – the morning after the ecstasy incident, which was two months ago – I did have a different hairstyle. My hair was combed back because my bangs were too long.

I pull a deep breath into my lungs to steady my voice and prepare to tell him about Collopy’s phone call. Whether coincidental or not, the fact that we’ve run into each other now, right after the blackmail call, is a sign to me that I need to tell him about it. She’s police; what else can I do?

“I need your help, Luca,” I utter the words that he told me I would months ago.

His lips thin in a straight line. “Are you in trouble?”

Wringing my hands together in my lap, I nod my head and decide to be completely forthcoming because I have nothing to lose anymore. “I’m sure you’re aware that there’s an investigation about Alex that involves me. A certain note was found in his safe.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Continue,” he orders in a formal tone and seems to be in a hurry, frequently stealing glances around the coffee shop.

“A detective just called to inform me they’re re-opening the case, which seems strange because the detective on the case told me a few weeks back it was closed. Her name is Collopy.”

His eyes widen, then darken with rage. “When?”

“Just now, right before I walked in here. She contacted me out of nowhere and attempted to blackmail me.” I lean forward against the table and lower my voice. “The investigation was closed by the detective on the case, Wade. Collopy was working with him. Out of nowhere, Collopy calls me, threatening me with new evidence that she’s found that will make me suspect number one. But she didn’t elaborate. She demanded thirty thousand dollars within twenty-four hours. She sounded very agitated and nervous, and I...I don’t know what to do. When I hung up, I saw you sitting here.”

The silence stretches between us, and the discussions of other patrons invade our conversation.

Luca then also leans forward, trapping my legs between his and dropping his voice. “You know what pisses me the fuck off? How you ask for my help as a last resort while I have been the one protecting you every step of the way from day one.”

Stunned by the venom in his tone, I remain quiet because I do need his help. Angering him won’t benefit me, and I want to know what the hell’s going on. I’m the one who’s still in the dark here.

While leaning back, he demands, “What else did she say?”

“She’s going to call back tomorrow.” I can’t avert my gaze from his intense expression.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask you this, and I expect honesty now, Fallon, or else I can’t help you. Do you get that?”

“Yes,” I hastily answer.

“What did she say to you, verbatim?”

“She wants thirty-thousand dollars. She’ll contact me within twenty-four hours with instructions about where to transfer the money to.” I pause and keep our stare locked. “She mentioned you, Luca, so you also need to be honest. What’s going on here? Did Alex write the note, or did you, or someone else from the Syndicate? Or is she somehow involved? Has this got anything to do with me, or is she some psycho ex-lover of yours? I haven’t told you before now because I had no idea who wrote the note. And Wade gave me a false sense of security when he said the case was closed.”

He runs his fingers over his beard. “She wrote the note. I didn’t do anything with her while I was with you. She and I happened long before I met you.”

Well, my instinct was right. The moment she mentioned DeMiliano with spite, I knew she was the one behind this and not Luca or the Syndicate. “Did you know from the start about the note?”

“No. I found out about it two weeks after Alex’s death.”

“Was my unwillingness to divulge anything to you the reason why you’ve changed so much toward me?” I ask as his hand is resting on the table, and I’m dying to touch him.

“Partly. I meant it when I said that it gutted me when you cut me out of your life.”

I blow out a soft breath. “I was confused then. I’m still confused, but I’ve finally started living my life again.”

“You should’ve talked to me.” He gulps heavily, betraying that his cool composure is just a façade.

Even though we’re not sitting far from each other, the distance between us is greater than ever. Where we used to always be comfortable with one another, we’re both extremely ill at ease at the moment.

“I realize that now, in hindsight,” I admit. “Can you help me?”

“Yes.” His stare holds a taunting I told you I would.

“How?” I retort, hating that he’s still being vague.

“She won’t bother you anymore. I’ll take care of the note and her. Was that all?”

Is he trying to get rid of me?

I nod my head.

“Good. If she calls you again, or if anything happens, you contact me immediately, Capito?” Understand?

This is an easy one. I already understood simple Italian words and phrases when we dated. “Si.” Yes.

And at last, I’m greeted by a widening grin, and I wink at him. His hand balls into a fist, making me think he’s also fighting his emotions. Neither of us breaks eye contact, and I can feel a pull building between us. This is the first real, open conversation we’ve had since the summer, since I was kidnapped, and it fuels the longing I still have for Luca. Flashes of our last time together in the bathroom of Cocktails & Heels send tingles straight to my lower stomach.

Then I remember to ask about Camilla. “How’s Camilla?”

His face freezes in lines of tension that harden almost imperceptibly. “None of your business.”

The mention of her turns him cold. Why? I’ve gotten a lot of answers today, but I still need to find out about Camilla. “Please, I need to know if she’s okay.”

“I can’t answer that; she’s missing.”

“What? How?” I whisper-shout and shoot the customer at the next table an apologetic look when her head whips toward my elevated voice.

Luca releases an irritated breath. “Calm down. We simply fired her, and then she disappeared. We don’t know where she is. You haven’t talked to her?”

“No, I swear, but she crosses my mind often because it’s impossible to find any semblance of peace until I know she’s okay.”

I’m tempted to tell him how much I miss him, but his distant behavior is setting all kinds of alarm bells off. I don’t get the chance to speak my mind because a shadow falls over our table, and Luca hurriedly releases my legs, which were still trapped between his. My head turns to a waitress with her coat hanging off her arm and bag dangling from her hand. Her attention is focused on Luca and his on her.

My mouth drops open slightly as realization dawns on me that he wasn’t here to reminisce about our past, but for her. It’s the same waitress that was always flirting with him when we were here together, and the scowl she used to give me has turned into a full-blown glare today. Blinking repeatedly to hide my whirling emotions, I catch Luca’s eyes, and I’m confronted with his despondent silence while he avoids looking at me.

“Are you ready?” she asks in an annoyingly sweet and innocent tone and rests her hand on his shoulder as my glower is fixed on Luca’s face.

He moves away from her touch, and I’ve never seen him this uncomfortable. If I thought the situation was awkward before, I think both of us really want to vanish into thin air at this point.

The waitress ignores the tension between us and takes a step toward the exit.

“I’ll be right there,” he murmurs to her.

She gives me an indignant look before turning on her heel and waiting at the door for Luca.

He opens his mouth to say something then shuts it while I’m pursing my lips together to hold in my tears from seeing him with another woman. They’re going on a date. It never occurred to me that he would be dating again. Now I understand how he felt after seeing me with Evan. He shakes his head slowly and rises while I keep my attention straight ahead on his espresso cup.

“I’ll let you know when Collopy’s handled.”

I look up through my lashes and attempt to form a smile. “Thank you.”

And I quickly concentrate on the cup as his eyes burn holes into me. He stands there without moving a muscle, and I muster up all my courage to say what I’m feeling. Jealousy always creeps up when you don’t want it to. Even though I have no right to request this because I ended it with him, I can’t hold it in.

“Luca, don’t go with her,” I plead while the woman waits in the doorway for him.

Indecision sweeps over his appearance as he peers down at me, and then all the sorrow, love, and regret of the past months blister to the surface. Just when I’m hopeful to recognize a hint of my Luca, he blinks and his eyes turn unrecognizably cold. I don’t know how long he watches me, clenching his jaw, but without saying a word, he ultimately turns and joins her. He chooses her and walks out the door.

Don’t cry.

I close my eyes tightly while his rejection stabs my heart, and a few tears stream down my cheeks. Wiping them away with the back of my hand, I leave the coffee shop as well, stepping out in the other direction. That’s where life has taken us, in two different directions. He’s moved on without me because I could never accept his world. He’s moved on while I’m still stuck with an irreparably broken heart. Sometimes I wish I’d never ignored his messages because that’s what caused the distance.

Time has weakened any anger I had toward Luca for lying, and all that’s left now is the love still thrumming passionately in every cell in my body.

With hurried paces, I end up at my front door. Seeing Luca clouded my judgment because I didn’t even bother to ask how he was going to take care of Collopy. Maybe somewhere deep down, I don’t want to know.

I let misplaced jealousy overrule my thoughts, and I honestly can’t blame him for rejecting me after I’ve slammed the door on us so many times before. But it still hurts and magnifies the emptiness he’s left behind.

Opening the door, I take two steps into my apartment and am completely blindsided when my forehead collides with the wall. I cry in pain as my keys and purse drop from my hand. The door is kicked shut as a body presses against my back and a fist knots roughly in my hair.

“You fucking bitch, I knew you would run to him,” a woman snaps in my ear as my head is yanked back and then smashed against the wall again.

A burning ache spreads out from my nose, and warm liquid gushes over my lips and chin – I’m bleeding. Completely disoriented, I try to crane my neck, but the pain throbbing in my head prevents any movement. However, I don’t need to see to confirm it’s Collopy. How did she get in?

“Did you two plan this? It’s very convenient that he was right inside the coffee shop, wasn’t it? Because of that asshole, I can’t live my life anymore! Fuck, I’m being set up,” she yells, more to her herself, through her ragged breathing. “He isn’t untouchable, you know. He thinks he’s god and can do whatever he wants without any consequences.”

Collopy must have been watching me when she called. During her mad tirade, her unyielding grasp in my hair loosens, and I push off the wall with all my strength, sending us flying backward and tumbling onto the ground, missing the coffee table by inches.

She recovers far easier than I do and rolls on top of me, spitting in my face as she continues her rant, “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

My double vision clears slightly, and I can see that Collopy has obviously been beaten. Her face and neck are covered in bruises and nasty cuts. On instinct, I dig my nails into the wounds on her neck to inflict the most pain.

“Argh...fuck!” She spasms in agony, and I take the opportunity to propel her off me.

I brace the table and try to stand, but I’m still dizzy, and my legs sway as I blink frantically to clear my eyesight. Unexpectedly, I fly forward when she kicks me hard in my lower back, and my temple hits the sharp edge of the coffee table.

Then everything goes black.