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FALLON SEEMS SO SMALL and fragile, peering up at me. “Luca, don’t go with her.”

The tremble in her voice almost obliterates my resolution to keep a certain distance for my own protection. She has no idea how fucking much I miss her. Every. Single. Day. I’ve forgotten about the other woman waiting for me at the door while I’m lost in her amber eyes.

I’ve visited the coffee shop three times over the past four months because it gives me comfort to be here, where our relationship began. And of course, I run into Fallon on the one day that I wish I wouldn’t. Brenda asked me out again today, and taking Adriano’s advice to date, to live a little again, I finally agreed.

However, it’s gutting me to witness the hurt stemming from Fallon’s body now. Her body that has changed: her hips are curvier and her cheeks are fuller, adding even more beauty to her already stunning appearance.

I always thought that this moment – when she confides in me and asks directly for help – would be more satisfying. Instead, it’s merely solidifying the wedge between us.

We hadn’t had any contact for an excruciatingly long two months, but as long as I knew she was doing well, I could go on with my life. We never found out who was behind drugging her drink in that bar, which to this day still displeases me. And David always came back with positive updates about her daily life, no more weird incidents. She was fine, and James ordered me to let it go because I was using too many Syndicate resources to find out who spiked her drink. I decided that I had to take control over my obsession to protect her, so I let her go, but she’s still never far from my mind.

God, I want to stay and blow Brenda off, but I’m not starting this again with her. I won’t survive losing her again when she finds out something about my Syndicate life that she can’t understand. If I stay, I’ll regress, and I need to keep moving on with my life.

I’ve tortured men for hours without an ounce of remorse. But walking away from Fallon when she confesses, in her own way, that she misses me is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

In my fantasy, I ravage and reclaim her, bruising her luscious lips with mine. Though in reality, I turn my back to Fallon without acknowledging her words, and it cripples me that she has to witness me leaving with Brenda, so I practically shove Brenda out the door.

“Where shall we go?” Brenda asks.

Shut up. I’m devastated by my dismissal of Fallon.

As I pass the window, Fallon’s staring at the table, and my heart explodes with guilt when she tightens her lips together to hold back the impending tears. And just as I see a few tears spill, she’s out of sight.

Seeing Fallon like that makes me realize that I can’t do this, so I ditch Brenda. “Brenda, something’s come up. I have to go.” And I cross the busy street before she can reply.

She yells something at me, but I simply ignore her because I have more important things to take care of. I’m surprised that Collopy is back in the Loop and contacted Fallon. I’ve blocked all of Collopy’s accounts and have been searching for her for a long time. Adriano found out she was living in a homeless shelter outside the Loop a few weeks back, and she got into a fight there, but after that, she was untraceable again. Now she’s blackmailing Fallon, either to retaliate or because she desperately needs money to, most likely, leave the country in order to stay out of my clutches.

After rounding the corner to step into the dimly lit garage where my car is parked, I fish out my phone to update Adriano. But when I hear footsteps approaching behind me, I let the phone slide back into my pocket and spin around just as someone covers my head with a bag, and I’m unable to grab my gun in time.

“What the fuck—”

Another person pulls my arms back while I struggle, but I manage to head-butt the person in front of me, which is answered with what feels like his fist hitting the side of my head. The other man strengthens his hold, ties my hands, and then takes my gun from the back of my pants.

“A gun. Interesting,” a low male voice says. “Move.”

I’m shunted forward, and I hear a door being opened. Then I’m pushed inside to lie on my front while a foot is planted harshly into my back.

Now we’re moving. I’m in the back of a vehicle – my guess is a van. I start counting and listening intently to determine if I can distinguish any outside noises, but I’m distracted when the bag is pulled up slightly and something soft is pressed roughly against my mouth and nose.

I lose consciousness.

***

I’M SHACKLED BY MY arms and feet – immobilized on a board that’s inclined twenty degrees so that my feet are above my head – when I wake in a concrete room with one yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling. My throat is dry, and I have no idea how long I’ve been unconscious.

Two men in black clothing enter, wearing black gloves and masks so that I can only see their eyes. One of them holds a watering can in his hand.

I struggle uselessly in the restrains and realize my phone is still in my pocket.

Cazzo! Fuck! They’re going to waterboard me.

They’re going to shock my system without having me lose consciousness to keep me on the agonizing border between life and death.

For the first time in years, I panic when water is poured onto my inclined face by the man to my left so that it runs into my upturned mouth and nose. As I cough and try to blow it out, the other person covers my mouth with cling wrap to keep the water trapped inside. Water flows into my throat, nose, and sinuses; however, my lungs don’t fill up because my chest is elevated above my head and neck to prevent suffocation, but I do feel my breathing passages drowning from the inside, causing extreme pain. The unbearable sensation of drowning causes my entire body to convulse in the restraints, almost breaking my bones in the process. It lasts a few seconds, but those few seconds tick by excruciatingly slowly.

And then he stops. Through my irregular breathing and teary eyes, it takes me a moment to grasp that the water has stopped hitting my face.

The same gruff voice from the parking garage speaks, and he leans in close enough for me to determine his eyes are dark blue. “Who are you?” He removes the plastic that covers my mouth, and I gurgle the water out, wheezing and coughing.

I’m absolutely confounded by his simple question. These two definitely don’t know whom they’re up against.

“Luca,” I answer, without looking away, and I spot a silver cross pendant that I’ve seen before around his neck. The necklace was tucked inside his collar but falls out as he leans in more.

“Who are you to Fallon Michaels?”

Fallon? I thought this was Syndicate related. Why the interest in Fallon?

“Who the fuck are you?” I counter furiously through my ragged breaths.

“That’s what I’m wondering about you. You’re more than an entrepreneur, DeMiliano.”

So it is Syndicate related but also tied to Fallon.

Fucking great!

I grin and stay silent just to taunt him a little, and it works. Through his tight mask, I can see his jaw clenching in irritation. Then they start again. He pours water onto my face, over my breathing passages, triggering the almost immediate gag reflex for a second time. This time, they stop sooner and both leave my side. In my bewildered and unbalanced state, I see them standing in the doorway, whispering frenziedly. I’m coughing constantly, my throat is killing me, and my bones ache to the core. Yet I suppress the cough long enough to eavesdrop on their last words.

“...go now.”

They disappear from the doorway, and I breathe a sigh of relief that the horrendous torture I just experienced has ended. I force myself to keep my eyes open to try to stay as alert as possible. I’ve stopped struggling against the restraints because the skin on my wrists is broken, and I can feel the blood trickling down my hands.

Adriano will find me soon. Although I have no idea what time it is or how long I was unconscious when they took me, I need to stay positive.

These men weren’t smart enough to confiscate and destroy my phone, and I pressed call before I let it slip back into my pocket in the garage, so I’m hoping Adriano heard the commotion and is tracking my phone.

I hear the footsteps of several men approaching.

Fuck, don’t let them be coming back. I’ll go crazy after a third round.

A shadow holding a gun blocks the doorway and closes the distance while scanning the room quickly.

“Luca, fuck!” Adriano instantly removes the shackles as Damian enters the room.

“Everything’s clear,” Damian tells Adriano, and they flank me to help me up.

“Adriano.” I cover my mouth with my fist while still coughing, and I’m extremely exhausted. “Who are they?”

“I don’t know; two men escaped. My priority was to get to you first.”

I nod, still unable to control my irregular breathing. “Get me out of here. Where is here by the way?”

“Industrial area outside the Loop,” Adriano replies.

“How long was I gone?”

“Three hours. It’s around eight,” he informs me.

“Take me home and call Doc.”

***

THE DOCTOR IS ALREADY at The Blackhall when Adriano and I arrive. Damian stayed behind at the industrial area to do some investigating.

As I lie on my back on the couch, the doctor examines me.

“Open.” He directs his light down my throat after I open my mouth. “What did they do, Luca?”

“Waterboarding.”

Doc flinches. “Fuck, that’s torture that often traumatizes victims for years.”

That’s true, but we’re trained to have a powerful mind. “It won’t affect me.”

“Hopefully not, but if you start to experience irrational fears, you have to tell me,” he orders in his kind, professional tone.

“I will.”

“As far as I can see without performing a scan, you’re fine. Here’s some Ibuprofen for the sore muscles you’re going to have.”

“Thank god they didn’t have time for a third round because that would’ve flipped me. I could barely handle it twice,” I say, addressing Adriano who’s standing in front of the window.

Exhaustion clouds his face. “How could they’ve captured you so easily, Luca?”

“I wasn’t drinking,” I defend to my friend and sit up as Doc places his materials back in his leather bag. “This was all planned by Collopy, I think. I happened to run into Fallon today, and she told me that Collopy’s blackmailing her. Thanks,” I say to the doctor when he hands me some cream, which works like magic to reduce bruising and swelling within hours, for my wrists.

Adriano’s eyes narrow in doubt.

“I was taking your advice,” I comment dryly. “I ran into her when Brenda and I were about to leave— Fuck! I need to check my phone.” I suddenly remember that I was expecting a call from James, so I pull my phone out of my pocket and listen to a voicemail from David.

“Michaels has been attacked and is in the hospital. I followed her from work to that coffee shop where she met you, then she went home. I saw the woman you’re looking for, Collopy, who was obviously in pain, leave the apartment building five minutes later, and then I went in. Fallon’s door was open, she was unconscious, and I think she has a broken nose. I said I was the neighbor when I called the ambulance. Where are you? I don’t have another number to contact in case of this kind of emergency.”

I leap up from the couch. “Fallon was attacked by Collopy. She’s in the hospital. I...I have to go.”

Dr. Calderone stops me by my arm. “I’ll drive you. I have to go to the hospital anyway.”

I point my finger to Adriano. “Find Kelli Ann Collopy!”

***

MY SHOES CLICK ON THE grey floor as I approach Fallon. She looks so vulnerable lying in a hospital bed and hooked to an IV.

Ti ho deluso. I failed you.

If I hadn’t been so busy fighting my emotions toward her, she would’ve been with me tonight. I swallow back the brick stuck in my throat as I focus on her bruised face. Her nose is swollen, and the skin is discolored. A smudge of dried blood is on her nose, so I wet a cloth under the faucet of the sink in the corner of the room and gently wipe it away. Then I sit next to Fallon, staring at her tainted bruises and suppress a desperate need to punch the wall repeatedly, wishing it was Kelli Ann’s fucking face.

Doc joins me and speaks while he reads her chart, lifting pages. “Her pain medication will keep her asleep for a couple of hours. No broken nose, no permanent damage, but she has a minor head injury.”

“Can you take her over as a patient?” I trace my fingers over hers.

“Already did that.”

“Thanks, Doc. Keep me updated if there’s any change in her condition.”

“No problem. You need to rest too, Luca. Give your system time to heal after the shock of waterboarding, which can have negative long-term effects. And Fallon’s parents have been called, they should arrive soon.”

The thought of someone hurting her has always made me want to go on a rampage. And now that she’s been hurt by a cop, I’m ready to declare an all-out war against the police department.

I stroke her hair and press my lips softly to her forehead. “I’m going home just for tonight. Adriano’s going to send a soldier to keep guard.”