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I STAND INSIDE THE immaculate white reception area of the Astoria Tower, nervously twirling my phone in my hand, and when it rings, I bring it up to my ear.

“What the fuck’s going on? Why is Michael calling to update me instead of my underboss?” Adriano roars, so I hold the phone away.

“Calma. I almost have Fallon.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

“The Astoria. I know she’ll come here,” I respond while apprehension clamors inside my gut as the doors open, but a middle-aged woman strolls in to greet the guy behind the desk and continues toward the elevators.

“You’re at my place? Where exactly?”

“The reception area.”

“So what are you planning to do? There could be civilian witnesses there. Michael told me she ran out. Is she hurt? Is she bloodied and running around the Loop? What if the cops see her? I’m having everyone keep an eye out for her.”

“No one touches Fallon!” I bark, losing it with Adriano. “I swear to god...”

He warns, “Luca, this is out of control and so are both of you!”

“Christ! I know that. But I’m positive she’ll come to the twins!”

“This is a fucking dangerous mess. I’m coming there now!” He hangs up before I can protest, and as I stash my phone in my pocket, the doors slide open again, and Fallon comes barging in.

She’s soaked from the rain, looking frantic with purple marks around her nose as if she’s bruising, and when her fearful gaze lands on me, her entire face falls.

The receptionist frowns. “Miss, are you okay?”

But I stride forward while she’s still as a statue and answer him, “It’s fine; she’s my wife.”

I approach her calmly and motion over to the left so that we can talk out of range of the receptionist. When she doesn’t move or react except for the quivering of her chin, I cock my head, silently advising her not to push me.

She closes her eyes in defeat and hesitantly walks in front of me to the empty seating area. In the meantime, the guy keeps glancing at us, so I stand with my back to him and block Fallon from view. Scanning her body, I don’t see any apparent injuries other than on her face.

“I’m going to ask this once and I expect an answer,” I start quietly. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She purses her trembling, pale lips together.

When I inch closer and she flinches, I stop, my soul receiving a blow from the suspicious look she sends me.

“We don’t have much time. Adriano’s coming here, and I need to know what happened.”

“Why? It’s not as if you’ll protect me,” she spits. “Get out of my way. I want to be with my kids.”

“No, you’re in shock and we need to leave here, away from any witnesses.”

She clutches her hair in despair. “I want my kids.”

“Okay, then tell me what happened. Where’s your gun?”

“In my waistband.” Her shoulders sag as she studies me, exhaustion and the reality of the situation setting in. Then her anger spews out, “I told all of you that Tez isn’t to be trusted! He’s the one behind the raid on New Year’s Eve!”

I rear back, surprised about this new piece of information.

“Did you know that your bar owner Rudd has a brother who’s a judge and was a regular at the sex club?” She waits for an answer, so I shake my head. “He’s up for justice. But Judge Rudd likes girls and boys, and he heard one of your girls in the sex club talk about the hidden cameras down there. He wants the footage now and has threatened Tez to get it or he’ll simply kill him. And he got his brother to help him and let him get murdered. Tez admitted how he spoofed the message to me and that Rudd hired the attacker to fuck with us. Then Tez thought I’d be desperate for help, so he deleted all traces on my phone of being hacked before Henry checked it, and he also kept messing with me, like I told you.”

“To what end?”

“So that I would find out where the footage is from you, and then he would delete it after making a copy for Rudd. In return for my help, he would pin proof of the spoofing and what happened to Noah on a random soldier.”

This is a very detailed story, which makes me think it must be true, although there are some holes.

“Stop looking at me like I’m stupid!” Unexpectedly, Fallon blows up, overwhelmed by her feelings, and it hurts the husband inside me. “Tez is the guilty party, yet I’m being used in your Syndicate games. This is what your mafia has done to me! You teach me to be more observant, but you bail on me when I tell you something’s off! He came to blackmail me and when I tried to get my gun, we fought and I shot him in self-defense. Now I need to see my kids! I can’t rely on you.”

I block her path as she fumes, fishing her phone from my pocket. “Look, I have your phone. Why did you call Tez?”

Her brows knit together before her words tumble out, “He called himself with my phone when he was inside the penthouse and told me it was insurance. But he made a mistake.” She points at the screen. “Look at the length of that call: it’s not even three seconds because he hung up immediately.”

I swipe the screen and click on the details of the call, verifying that she’s correct, so I stash the device back and drill her, “How did Tez get inside the apartment?”

“He went behind the reception desk when it was unattended and got our code to open the elevator upstairs.”

“That’s almost impossible. It’s never unattended.”

“That’s what he said – it was unattended for a moment and he just waited like a predator. He was staking it out! He was in my home! Do you think I’m foolish enough to let him in?”

“No,” I answer honestly. She’s too perceptive and protective.

Guilt consumes me as I look at her innocent face that’s tainted by mafia games. She’s definitely in shock, trapped in a panicky daze.

“This is the last time I’m saying it: I will see my kids. Get out of my way.” She attempts to pass me, but I don’t move. When she pushes me angrily, I wind my arms around her, pressing her against me, whispering, “Please, calm down. We need to leave, for your safety.”

“No!” she begs into my chest, struggling before going slack and sobbing, breaking down. “I want my kids...”

I palm the back of her head, kissing the top of it as a brick forms in my throat. “Shhh. You will, but you have to calm down, dolcezza.” My voice breaks when I use the name only reserved for her, the one I’ve refused to speak lately.

As Fallon cries in my arms, the door behind her to the garage unlocks and Adriano and Henry stride inside. Adriano assesses Fallon as she trembles and me as I crumble beneath the weight of my love for her. Then he notices the receptionist, who’s staring at us.

Adriano gestures to Henry, who goes to the guy to distract him while Adriano closes the distance to us and, without preamble, brings up his hand. As soon as I see a syringe in his grip, my world seems to slow and stop.

“No!” I yell when he sticks it into Fallon’s neck, which she grabs as her head shoots up.

Adriano steps back, and she casts me a scornful look, saying, “What-t...” before her eyes flutter closed and her knees buckle.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I pick up Fallon beneath her arms and legs, her head lolling back, and I note some dried blood around her nose.

“Lower your voice! I had no choice. I’m just sedating her for an hour or so. Move! Get her in my car before more civilians witness this.” He snaps his fingers at Henry, who trails us out into the garage where Adriano’s metallic BMW is parked.

Adriano jerks opens the door for me, and I lay Fallon on the back seat before jumping in and tucking her against my side. Instantly, Adriano drives out of the garage as I get my phone from the inside pocket of my suit jacket to call Marc.

“Luca?”

“Marc, I’m bringing in Fallon. She fought with someone and is sedated now.”

“Is she hurt?” he asks as I lean forward and lift up her pants, seeing that her knees are bleeding and black and blue.

“Motherfucker! Yes, her knees are bruised and so is her face.”

“Okay, come to the private top floor. It’s currently empty.”

“Okay, I’m also sending guards.”

“Fine, but make sure they’re inconspicuous.”

“I will.” I end the call and toss the mobile aside.

Combing several strands of mahogany hair out of Fallon’s face, I agonizingly stroke the bruise on her nose and whisper softly, “What did you do?” Putting my cheek to her hair, I embrace her firmly, sadness and remorse eating at me while fury toward Tez seeps into my blood.

Thank god she answered most of my questions with a plausible scenario this time, as if she had heard it all from Tez. And regardless of everything that’s happened, Fallon would never have called Tez and invited him into our home, our solace, even if we have neglected it – well, I’ve neglected it – recently.

Adriano catches my flustered gaze in the rearview mirror. “Talk. Tell me why Tez has been shot and is being operated on at Northwestern?”

“I’m not sure, but from what I could puzzle together, Tez confessed to Fallon that he was behind the raid and has been messing with her. He attacked her and she shot him to protect herself. I should’ve believed her!” I kiss her hair. “Do we have footage of someone named Rudd?”

“Rudd was the bar owner,” Adriano throws back.

“No, another man named Rudd. The bar owner’s brother.”

“Wait. Who’s this Rudd you’re talking about?” Henry inquires.

“He’s some judge, a client of the sex club. There’s footage of him with a woman and another man. He overheard the escorts say that the clients were being filmed.”

“First name?” Adriano probes.

“I don’t know!” Then I remember seeing something interesting on Fallon’s phone, so I dig it out of my pocket and hand it over to Henry. “Check her last calls. She called a number I don’t recognize. I need to know who that is.”

“Okay.”

“Search for a judge named Rudd online,” Adriano orders Henry. “And get a soldier at Club 7 to check the clientele list and scour the recordings of the sex club on the days Rudd was present. What else did she say?”

“Tez did send her a spoofed message on that day Noah got hurt, and he was blackmailing her because he’s being threatened by Rudd.”

“So this has been going on while you were supposedly handling it!” He glares at Henry to his right and then at me in the rearview mirror again. “I’m taking over and fixing this goddamn mess tonight!”

Hitting the gas, he maneuvers the vehicle through the busy wet streets toward Northwestern hospital.

A repressive silence descends in the vehicle.

***

AFTER FALLON HAS BEEN taken to a private room on the top floor of Northwestern, she’s dressed in a hospital gown and tucked under the covers to warm up. Marc has just finished examining her and promises to come back later with the results as I sit in a chair, leaning with my elbows on the mattress, and grasp Fallon’s hand.

She jerks awake, her eyes flying open after being out for an hour. Her gaze moves to our entwined hands and she pulls free, firing up into a sitting position before immediately toppling backward. I jump up and loop an arm around her back, guiding her to lie down while she blinks and blinks to concentrate.

She glimpses around at Adriano, Cam, and Logan standing opposite me, her long, rumpled mahogany hair curling around her stricken face as they watch her. The side of her nose is bruised and her cheek is slightly swollen, as though she was slapped by Tez.

Then she sits up once more, steadier this time, and hisses at me, “What did you do to me! Where am I?”

“Northwestern. I had to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

“All I want is my children.” She furiously signals to her right side. “Why are they here?”

“We know what happened in your penthouse,” Adriano responds, his arms crossed, yet his scowl softens when he addresses Fallon, “What happened?”

“Didn’t Luca tell you?” she snarls, and the resentment in her usually calm voice pains my soul.

Although deep down, I know I deserve it because I sought refuge in the bottom of a bottle.

“He told me about Rudd, about how Tez confessed. Is that true?”

“Yes. Oh, check my phone, Adriano. I made a screenshot of Tez’s calls last night, which he deleted in front of me, but I had already contacted one of his numbers and that Rudd guy picked up. He’s behind the raid and wants his sex club footage from the Syndicate.”

“Henry’s looking into it,” Adriano answers as Fallon completely disregards me and climbs out of bed on the other side.

When she sways on her feet, Logan moves forward and catches her, much to my chagrin.

Adriano warns me to back off with a dark scowl when I attempt to round the bed.

“I’ve been telling the truth, but no one believes me. And Luca...didn’t believe me.”

“What happened between you and Luca?” Adriano asks her, clearly not trusting me to update him honestly.

That’s when I realize that my rank is on the line if Adriano discovers that I drank and, therefore, lost control over this entire predicament. On top of that, Fallon has almost cleared up the entire situation – instead of me.

“I haven’t been able to get through to Luca, so I investigated on my own and came close to the truth, but Tez blackmailed me, so I killed him.”

“He’s not dead,” Adriano refutes. “The shot went through his side, and he lost some blood and hit his head. He’s been operated on and only has a few stitches in his side, along with a concussion. He’s fine.”

Her round eyes widen, and I see the wheels turning in her clever brain.

“Well that’s too bad because he’s a moron and a coward!” she grinds out. “But besides that, Luca’s been leaving me alone most of the time. Did you know that he hasn’t been coming home? He’s been staying at the club with a blonde bartender to ignore his problems.”

Adriano’s clenches his jaw. “I asked you about the blonde!” He raises his voice at me before focusing back on Fallon. “What did he do?” he demands while I remain quiet, knowing she’ll reveal everything now because I failed her.

“Nothing,” she says, astonishing me when she doesn’t disclose my secret. “Simone just seeks him out when he stays at the club.” She meets my gaze while hers is teeming in tears that break my heart.

Furthermore, she protects me when it counts – I have underestimated Fallon.

“I believe you,” Cam pipes in, causing Adriano’s astounded stare to shift to his wife.

“You’re the unstable one.” Cam points at me, releasing Fallon of blame. “You’ve been distant and I know you left her alone often last week. We also saw you with the blonde a few times.”

Adriano then concludes, “We need to verify things, Fallon. Henry and Michael are on it as we speak. I’ll come back and update you.” He motions to both Fallon and me. “You two stay away from Tez. You hear me?” Adriano’s phone chimes in, so he digs it out of his back pocket and walks out.

I jerk my head to Logan and Cam to leave, so they trail behind him.

Fallon’s standing with her back to me as I round the bed, but then she turns around slowly. Her usual look of love has made way for one of absolute disappointment toward me that shatters my dark soul. Only she has that effect on me.

“I want to go, Luca,” she mutters sadly.

“You have to stay here so that we can make sure you’re okay.”

Unexpectedly, she throws up her hands in frustration and hits my chest, pushing me backward, and I stagger as I watch her fury being unleashed on me, which I deserve. “No, Luca! I’m so done with this mess and need this fixed NOW! I want to see my kids.”

I grip her wrist and pull her against me, winding one arm around her middle while a tear escapes from my eye. “Please, look at your bruised knees and nose. You’re not okay. I want you safe, and this is the safest place for you.”

Then I release her, and she stares at me in shock when I step back.

“Luca, don’t do this. I miss my children so much. All I need is them,” she whispers, so I vow to end this chaos ASAP.

I move closer to cradle her cheek, but she retreats just as fast, which pains me more than my need for retaliation. Nevertheless, I say, “I’ll be right back.”

Spinning around, I rush out of the room before her despondent, slim frame crumbles me. But right before I close the door, I hear her shout furiously, “No, you won’t!”

Still, I click it shut and command the guard, “No one’s allowed in except Marc, Adriano, or Michael. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir.” He nods as I proceed down the empty, long grey hallway toward the reception area where the elevator is located, needing an outlet for my vengeance.

With tension coiling my muscles, I travel two floors down and search for Marc to get the information I need, and then I move to the recovery room at the end of the hall where another Syndicate member stands guard. Opening the door, I enter a medium-sized space with a single occupied bed and a metal railing suspended from the ceiling, the blue curtain hanging from it pulled open. A monitor beeps as Tez lies under the white cotton sheet, a band of gauze wrapped around his head. The fluorescent lights almost blind me just as a man in blue scrubs looks up.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“I’m the anesthetist. Marc told me to take care of this one,” he answers – he’s on the Syndicate payroll.

“Wake him,” I say, defying my boss’s orders to stay away until Michael and Henry are done investigating, but my patience has been gone for weeks, and my marriage has suffered due to it. My wrath needs to be let loose.

He freezes before complying and sticking a syringe into the IV, explaining, “He’ll wake within five minutes.”

I signal to the door, ordering him out, and he leaves the room. Calmly, I take the back of the chair that’s standing at the corner window and place it next to the bed. Then I sink down, crossing my ankle over my knee. Luckily, I only have to wait several minutes before he stirs.

His fingers twitch at first, and then he stutters awake. Blinking, he licks his dry lips and turns his gaze left, startling as he says gruffly, “Luca.” He coughs. “What happened?”

I cock my head, resting my elbows on the armrests and knitting my fingers. “Don’t play fucking dumb with me anymore.”

“W-what?”

“See, you made one big mistake.” I pay no heed to his so-called bewilderment and the hunger to stab out his eyes while he’s alive. “You went to my penthouse, and Fallon’s much too intelligent to allow anyone in.”

“She called me,” he defends, just as Fallon said he would.

“For two seconds? Plus, she’d never just call someone to come over and not tell me or Michael. She’s much too overprotective for that – that was your mistake.”

“What are you talking about? She shot me!”

“She told us everything. You made me distrust my wife through every means possible because you’re an idiot. Michael has your phone,” I disclose, his face falling. “Once I have evidence, I’ll get approval from the boss to torture you.” I stand up and right my collar.

“I can press charges!” Sitting up, he howls in pain, presumably from the stitches in his side.

“You think you’re protected by American law? No, you fall under Syndicate law now.” I lean down, pushing him back as he grunts and clutches his middle. “And I’m the only judge.” Then I shout, “Guard!”

The door opens instantly and the guard peeks inside.

“Cuff him to the bed,” I command.

He enters the room, sliding his black suit jacket aside to reveal a gun and metal cuffs hanging on his belt. Slipping off the cuffs, he moves to Tez, who resists, but the guard catches one wrist effortlessly and locks him to the railing at the headboard of the bed.

“Luca! You have no proof! Stop this.”

“Don’t beg. It’s pathetic,” I retort before I storm out.

Buttoning my silver-grey jacket, I return upstairs to the private floor where the guard is standing in the same position outside Fallon’s room. When I open the door, she’s sitting on the bed and glances at me but then away.

“We have to wait for an update from Marc,” I inform her, yet she disregards me as I stop across from her.

“Fallon? Please look at me.” I place my finger under her chin to tilt her head up.

Pulling away, she sneers at me. “Are you here to take me home?” she asks, whisper-soft, in a tone that tears me apart while the bruise on her nose has me clenching my fist.

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

“Then get out,” she snaps, the words spearing through my heart as she pins a look of distrust on me. It’s the look of distrust I’ve most likely been giving her for weeks.

Sheer sorrow is a painful pill to swallow as our gazes clash and hold.