Walking up the steep steps toward the second floor of my complex with Gabe planted on my hip holding his new stuffed monkey between us and Ms. Lincoln’s grocery bags in my other hand, I’m in the best mood. I wrapped up a case earlier than expected, so when I stopped by to pick up Gabriel, I had one of those spur-of-the-moment ideas to take him to the zoo.

I know he won’t remember any of it, but he turned five months old today. He needed celebrating. And I have no idea how much longer I’ll have with him. The state could take him away from me at any moment. I pray they don’t, because I need more time to get Drago to warm up to him before he finds out Gabriel is his son. If this past weekend is any indication of the type of father he would make, then there’s hope. D has been staying most nights at my house, except last night, and he’s been heavily involved in helping me with the baby—his baby.

It’s a good thing, but when he does learn the truth, then where does that leave me?

I’ve gotten attached.

Too attached.

I love this little boy. Is that so wrong? He isn’t mine, I fully know that, yet I can’t help but feel like he is. I’ve been caring for him for two months now. I wake up to him every morning and I go to sleep with him on my mind while he’s in the next room.

Once I reach my floor, I head straight to Ms. Lincoln’s condo first to drop off her things. Grocery shopping is the least I can do for the lady when she needs it.

Switching the bags to the hand I’m holding the baby with, I grip the sacks with my fingers so I’m able to knock on her door. When she doesn’t answer after a long moment, I knock again.

Still no answer.

That’s strange.

She rarely leaves unless she is going to walk down to the coffee shop not far from our building. But that’s only on the weekends to meet one of her lady friends. Plus, she knew I would be back in a couple of hours with the groceries she asked me to pick up. Surely, she would have texted or called if she was going to leave.

About the same time I blow out a frustrated puff of air out of my mouth, Gabriel becomes fussy. He’s been relatively good since I picked him up at noon. It’s just after five in the evening now, so I know he’s tired and ready for another nap.

“I know, sweet man.” Squeezing him to me, I brush a kiss to his little forehead as I turn toward my door across the hall. “Let’s get you into bed. Your dad should be here in a couple of hours. I want you well rested when he arrives.”

I’ve been referring to D as his dad when we are alone. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. Calling him by his name doesn’t feel right.

Putting that out of my head, I think about all the things I need to get done before D gets here. I need a shower. I stink, well, we stink from walking around the zoo these last couple of hours. I have dinner to prepare and I want to impress the Italian part of Drago with the meal I’m cooking. He may be only half, but he’s admitted Italian food is his favorite. Mona, his nanny and housekeeper, spoils him regularly with authentic meals.

A small smile breaks out thinking about him. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be not only be sleeping with an Acerbi but dating one too. Drago isn’t anything like the things I know to be true about his father. And I don’t care what anyone in my department claims; he’s not like Vincent. He’s good. And I’m breaking the rules by secretly seeing him. That part of this whole mess is weighing on me hard. I hate it, but it has to be this way until I prove Drago isn’t in bed with the dirty drug lord he’s suspected of being involved with.

I just need more time. So far, Tom hasn’t brought up planting under Drago’s nose, so until he does, I’ll keep my mouth shut there.

But if he tries to, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Drago says there are discrepancies in his shipments. Maybe if he would let me help him figure it out, then I could say Drago divulged these things to me in order to clear his name.

It’s an angle to use at least.

What if someone on the inside, without Drago knowing, is planting drugs in with his shipments? Maybe his father is still pulling strings from Italy without D knowing.

Anything is a possibility, so why won’t Drago let me in?

Gabe’s whimpers bring me out of my racing thoughts as I approach the door. His restless whines are increasing by the second, making me second-guess my decision to take a baby strolling around the zoo for over three hours. Ms. Lincoln wasn’t thrilled about the idea herself, but she didn’t say anything. I could see it in her eyes though. She wanted to tell me not to take him.

“Shh, baby, give me just a few more minutes. I promise a cozy blanket and your crib are coming up. How does that sound?”

Like he understands what you’re saying, Brianna.

Once I dig the keys out of my pocket, I unlock the door and let us inside.

“Almost there, Gabe.”

Turning around, I close the door and flip the lock on the deadbolt. I don’t live in a bad neighborhood, thanks to my father, but perhaps being a cop and seeing all the things I have over the years makes me take extra precautions. And the couple of months I’ve had Gabriel definitely has made me more aware of things and amped up my already alert self.

I place the bags on the small dining table. Ms. Lincoln’s groceries will have to wait. I have a tuckered-out baby boy to put down for a nap.

His hand tightens around the sleeve of my shirt making it taut as he cries out.

This boy pulls on my heartstrings at every turn. I realize now I kept him out far too long, but it’s not like he came with a manual. Not that it makes me feel any better. It doesn’t. I still feel like crap.

“I’m sorry, sweet man. We’re home now and your bed is coming right up.”

Just as soon as I get you changed into a clean diaper and into your jammies, I think while unclipping my holster and weapon, placing them both in the drawer between my couch and recliner.

If he wasn’t so tired and cranky, I’d go ahead and give him his nightly bath, but I’ll just do that later tonight.

I ease him down onto the makeshift changing table, which is actually a cheap, used dresser I bought at the flea market a few blocks from my building. It has a foam pad on the top and works just fine.

The cop in me hates buying things from places like flea markets nowadays, because I’m always wondering if it’s stolen merchandise. As a kid, I loved going to them with my mom even though she rarely bought anything, and we always had to go when my father wasn’t around. It was our little secret—our mother-daughter bonding time. It was something that was just ours.

He didn’t approve of shopping at what he considered lower class establishments. Kind of like the way he views my job, I guess. Everything is first class when it comes to Robert Andrews.

I miss my mom every day, so when I do go, it’s like a piece of her is with me for a short period of time. I also don’t make a lot of money, so when it comes to extra expenses—Gabriel—I have to bargain shop.

He gives me a smile after I’ve secured the last taped strap to his diaper. In turn, I give him one back and then bend down to kiss his bare tummy.

He’s the most precious thing in the world to me. I’m not exactly sure when that happened, but it did, and I can’t deny that.

I forgo putting any other clothes on him. He gets hot when he sleeps, so typically he’s good in just a diaper with his blue blanket and a stuffed animal.

The boy loves plush toys of any kind just like I did when I was little.

Picking him up, I squeeze him lightly to my chest as I turn and step to his crib, then gently place him in it.

Once I have him covered and his monkey tucked in his hand, I leave. He’s a great sleeper. I cannot complain after the things I’ve witnessed Alana and Jackson have to deal with when it comes to their youngest, Carly, when she was a baby. Gabe is nothing like that. He’s a perfect angel compared to my niece as a baby.

I leave a crack in his door after I exit so I’m able to hear him better. I don’t have one of those baby monitors. It wasn’t something I purchased because I didn’t see it as a necessity at the time and I wasn’t sure how long he would be staying with me. It’s not like my condo is big, so I can hear him no matter where I am.

I really hadn’t planned on him being here this long. Not that the past few months feels long—they don’t. It doesn’t feel long enough if I’m being honest with myself.

Walking across the hall and into my bedroom, I kick off my flats, followed by removing my slacks ready to get into a hot shower. But before I reach for the first button on my blouse, I hear a noise.

My head turns automatically to listen. It’s the door. The door I locked less than twenty minutes ago is being unlocked.

There are only two people aside from myself that have a key to my condo. Alana being one, but I know she’s in San Francisco. She and I talked just this morning. She would have told me if she were coming down here.

The other is Ms. Lincoln and only because she keeps Gabriel. I wanted her to have access to his things in case I forgot to pack something he needed, or she runs out because I didn’t pack enough.

She has never let herself in before when I’m home. But then, maybe she doesn’t know I’m back. Odd, though, since I have Gabriel.

Leaving my bedroom, I walk briskly down the hall.

“Ms. Lincoln?” I call out.

She doesn’t answer.

It’s a short distance. so when I enter the living room, I come to a halt, momentarily taken by surprise when I lay eyes on a lean Hispanic man dressed in all dark clothes. He sees me the same time another man—this one a few inches shorter than the first—walks through the door, closing it behind him. Their features are quite similar; they could pass for brothers.

“I suggest you both leave now.”

My voice is firm and steady. I’m not scared. I’ve been trained to remain calm in many different situations. The trick is to not let your mind wander. Focus on nothing but the threat in front of you. Neutralize the threat.

“We won’t be doing that, cop,” the taller of the two utters as he spits the last word out, as if he has a bad taste in his mouth.

I guess that means he’s not a fan of the police.

The other guy snickers at his words as his dirty eyes roam down my bare legs.

Go ahead, sleazeball, look all you want. It’ll be your downfall. And the distraction I need.

“The kid.” My head snaps back to the other one. “Where is he?” All the hairs on my body stand. Gabriel. They’re after Gabriel, but why?

Drago? Maybe. No, it can’t be . . .

I don’t have the time to question the whys. The cop in me will have to stay at bay for the most part. No way will I allow these men to take Gabe from here—from me.

They’ll have to kill me first.

Fuck oath.

This has nothing to do with it and everything to do with my love for the boy sleeping only a few steps down the hall behind me.

“What kid?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest. I doubt they believe me. They obviously got in using Ms. Lincoln’s key after all . . .

No thinking, Brianna.

Focus.

“Nice try.”

I’m guessing the taller one of their duo is the ringleader since he’s the only one speaking.

“Yeah, nice try. Like my brother said, sweetie,” shorty finally speaks, confirming my suspicions they’re brothers. He’s younger too; could be just out of his teens.

Oh, I got your sweetie.

“Shut the fuck up.” The older brother turns, shoving the other in his shoulder, making him damn near fall to the door, but he manages to catch himself after stumbling.

“Ooh.” I shake my head, making a tsk-tsk sound, “I don’t think you were supposed to let the cop know you two are related,” I chime in, pointing between them.

“Where’s Acerbi’s kid?” big brother demands to know.

So they are here because of Drago. But is it for him or . . .

“Get out now!”

That does nothing to deter them. In fact, they both move my way instead, at a slow pace.

I take a deep breath to prepare myself mentally for what’s about to happen. I would prefer to have a weapon on me, but I don’t. There is no way I have enough time to run to my bedroom to grab my secondary firearm—a Glock .380—from the drawer in the nightstand next to my bed. I can’t reach my department issued weapon either and my last option is a no-go too. The path to the kitchen where I keep another one of my personal handguns above the stove in a cabinet is blocked.

I’m shit out of luck for a weapon right now.

Guess I’m about to find out what all the hours I’ve spent training with Nikki Lockhart has taught me.

My eyes flicker back and forth between both men. The shorter one will reach me first. Different scenarios and outcomes run through my mind. I have many options, but only seconds to form a plan. I’m banking on them both thinking I’m easy prey because I’m a woman.

I won’t be.

I may not be the tallest or toughest female in the department, but I’m far from being the weakest. I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in.

They don’t know that. No way they could.

I force my body to relax, even though it’s screaming to tense as these two thugs close in on me. When Shorty is close enough, I drop my ass, bend my knees and spring upward as I kick my foot and leg out directly in the path of his knee. My foot lands on the mark, making him scream in pain and drop to the floor.

“What the—”

His brother is cut off when I throw my body—all one hundred and thirty-one pounds—into him, knocking him back. But before I’m able to push myself off, his hands grab me around my biceps, squeezing tight.

“You little bitch,” he spits in my face before tossing me backward where I fall, landing on my backside.

“Guess the cop is a little tougher than you thought, huh?” I probably shouldn’t be goading either of these men. They obviously aren’t the friendly type. But hell, they came into my home, threatening to take my baby. They are lucky I don’t have a gun. If I did, both might just be dead.

They will not take Gabe while I’m breathing.

“My leg.”

I glance to the other guy. He’s still on the floor a few feet away, holding his kneecap with both hands.

“Suck it the fuck up and get up,” his brother yells.

I take the opportunity to jump to my feet and then take a step back, gaining a little distance between us

“I can’t. She broke my leg. That bitch broke my fucking leg.”

He’s damn near in tears, making me feel victorious. His leg isn’t broken. At least I don’t think it is, but I’d bet money his kneecap is dislocated.

“You need some titty milk to help dry up those tears, ya baby?” I can’t help myself.

My laughter quickly evaporates when my attacker lunges for me. I side jump, getting out of his path, then I’m able to get behind him where I quickly hop onto his back. Being quick, I wrap my legs around his waist and punch my fist into his ear. I can’t allow him to gain his bearing back if I’m going to pull off this move.

He stumbles back, but I wrap one arm around his neck, attempting a rear naked choke, then grab ahold of my bicep with my hand. I’ve never tried this. It’s an advanced move that Nikki hasn’t taught me how to properly execute, but I’ve seen Jase Teller do it many times. I’m praying watching him was enough.

I just need him out long enough to allow me time to get to one of my guns.

I may not actually kill either of these men. I’m a cop after all. But they will be limping out of here in handcuffs—or cuffed and rolled out on a stretcher.

He goes down to one knee. I think it’s working so I tighten my grip, squeezing as much as I can.

It’s too quiet. The only sounds in the room are coming from my strained breaths and my assailants winding down.

The other brother is a wuss, so I’m not too worried about him. I’ll deal with him when I’m done with this one if he wants to try something.

He’ll regret it if he does.

A few seconds later the body I’m wrapped around goes limp.

I did it. I actually did it.

Go me!

I jump to my feet. Glancing sideways at the other guy, I see he’s still sitting on the floor in the same spot as before—frozen. Scared is more like it.

Turning to go retrieve my weapon, I stop dead in my tracks when I see a third man standing in the doorway. This one has a nickel plated .45 pointed at my head.

Before he speaks, I know he’s Mexican, which verifies the two Hispanic men I’ve already laid down must be too. Unlike them, he doesn’t need any introductions. I know exactly who he is.

Sebastian Diaz.

Criminal.

Dangerous.

Drug trafficker.

Wanted.

“Impressive.” His eyes roam down as if he’s admiring my body; it doesn’t come off sleazy like the other guy, but I still don’t like it. “Almost makes me regret what I have to do.”

He lowers the gun as he walks forward. He doesn’t put it away. It’s still in his hand with his finger on the trigger, making me very unnerved because gun safety one-oh-one states only have your finger on the trigger if you intend to shoot your target.

He doesn’t stop until he’s standing in front of me—too close for my own comfort—but I don’t back away. Something tells me that wouldn’t be a smart move.

He’s a few inches taller than I am. I’m not going to let that intimidate me, so I hold my chin higher and press my lips together.

He rewards me with a smile that sickens my stomach.

I don’t react when he grabs my ass with his free hand, either. Squeezing my cheek roughly, he pulls me flush with his front, pressing his semi-hard erection against my satin covered center.

The pit of my stomach plummets, but I do everything within my power not to show it.

“After seeing this beautiful ass in action”—he squeezes to the point of pain, but I keep myself from reacting by biting the inside of my cheek—“I want to take you home and fuck it all night long. That badge was right about one thing. You certainly are one hot piece of ass.”

He pushes me backward, and I stumble thinking about what he has just said.

Badge? A cop? What the—

I don’t get a chance to analyze his words long because while I’m catching my balance the guy I choked out starts to come to, gaining consciousness. I glance down, as he’s only a few feet from me. When he looks up after shaking his head in quick jerks, his eyes scream murder. He’s pissed.

As he climbs to his feet, I inch over, stepping closer to the other brother that is still sitting on the floor. He’s unmoving and the least of my worries.

I see the hand coming at me, but he’s too quick—too determined maybe—for me to react in time. The back of the taller brother’s hand lands across my cheek. Something sharp tears through the skin of my lip as he backhands me. He was wearing a gold ring. I remember it now.

The blow knocks me off my feet. My hip and palms crash to the hardwood floor below. He doesn’t stop there.

Pain storms through my abdomen as he kicks me multiple times in the stomach. Some low, some high.

“Ahhhhh,” I let out the first sound of weakness I’ve shown since they entered my home. Even I can only take so much.

“Enough!” Sebastian’s voice booms. “Find the kid.”

“NO!” My yell is croaky at best.

Using the glass surface of the coffee table, I force myself to my feet, pushing the pain to the back of my mind.

Without thinking, I leap for the man Sebastian has ordered to find Gabriel, but I’m met with a palm I didn’t see coming as it clasps around my neck, then he shoves me as hard as he can.

Had I been focused more like the cop I’m supposed to be rather than let fear seep into my head, I might have been able to counter his move and get around him.

Instead, my ass lands down on the glass coffee table.

I’m up in seconds, but as soon as I make a move toward him, a gunshot sounds off, followed by fire lightening into my thigh.

There is no time to think about the pain. I can’t let them take Gabe. No matter what I have to do, I will protect him. They will not get him without one hell of a fight.

“What do you want?” I scream. “Leave the baby. I’ll get Drago to give you whatever it is you want.”

He has to want something from D. That has to be it. There isn’t any other possible explanation.

This goes against everything I know is right. Screw it. I’ll do anything at this point. Make any bargain I have to so they don’t hurt Gabriel.

“Ha!” Sebastian laughs out a loud laugh as he raises the gun at me. “I’m going to get exactly what I want, Detective Andrews.”

“You don’t have to take the baby. He isn’t even Drago’s.”

I’m a cop. I’m a believable liar. I’m trained to be one. To say whatever is necessary to get the answers I seek.

“Don’t bullshit me. I know he is and you know he is.” His lips tip. “But Acerbi doesn’t, does he?”

The DNA test. Only a few people in the department knew about that . . .

“Then what’s your plan? What is it you want exactly?”

Keep him talking. That’s what I have to do. I can do that but then what? Someone had to have heard that shot and called 911?

God, I hope so.

Drago won’t be here for at least another hour and then he’s often late.

Shit, Brianna, what are you going to do?

“Kill you obviously.” Chills ignite and run the length of my spine. “Take the boy for insurance.” He waves the gun back and forth. “Acerbi made a huge mistake when he pulled his family out of my business two years ago. Now I’m going to ensure his return and tenure. He will take my offer if he wants to keep his kid breathing. And you, cop, will be my message.”

Two years ago?

Why didn’t D tell me this? Why didn’t Drago explain he changed his family dynamics himself?

I knew deep inside he was good. This proves it to me.

And this scum wants to bring him into his folds. Taint him. Bring him into the dirty world of trafficking drugs in LA.

My blood warms. I want to do things to this monster that would be considered unethical of a police officer. I want to watch him bleed. I want to see the moment the light in his eyes dies out.

“Killing a cop won’t just have LAPD after you. You’ll have the whole goddamn state of California and every agency in it wanting to take you down.”

Most of us, that is . . . There could be a leak in the department after all.

He brings the gun up, centering it in front of him, pointing right at me and lets out a sickening evil laugh.

“Do you honestly think I give a damn about LAPD or any other agency in this state? The fucking paperwork will be buried before I’m even a blip on anyone’s radar. Just like it always is.” A quick chuckle breaks from his lips. “And so will you.”

Everything happens in slow motion yet too fast for me to react in time. Shots sound off one after another, but the first shot causes so much agonizing pain that I don’t know how many rounds my body takes. The impact forces me backward, I twist, and then I lose my balance, crashing to the floor. Something sharp and hard collides with my head. The coffee table, I think, but darkness starts to wash over me before I can assess everything. I’m not completely gone when I hear a sound that hurts worse than any damage done to my body. Gabriel’s cries pierce my ears and it’s the last thing I hear.

They’re taking him.

I failed in the most important duty I had—his safety. Everything dims, going completely black.