Abby was carrying coffee out to the terrace when the breaking news alert came through on Max’s phone. It was September, and they’d had almost three months of blissful peace. Three months of worry-free drinks in public places, of foot rubs and takeout, of handholding in movies and nights in each other’s arms.

Three months of believing the past was really behind them.

She should have known it wouldn’t last forever.

She’d just set the coffee down on the table, already set with crispy waffles made by Max, plus bacon, fruit, and freshly squeezed orange juice, when she noticed his face had gone still.

“What’s wrong?” But she knew.

Even then, she knew.

“We need news,” he said, already moving toward the terrace doors.

She followed him into the living room and watched as he picked up the remote for the TV, hardly ever used for anything but movies.

“You’re scaring me, Max.”

He sat down and took her hand as the local news station came to life on the screen. Her gaze went straight past the newscaster — a young woman in a pink blouse holding a microphone — to the building behind her.

The Tangier.

“This morning the Board of Directors of the Tangier Hotel and Casino got a surprise in the return of its majority shareholder and CEO, Jason Draper. The board was set to appoint a new CEO after three months of running the company themselves in absentia of Draper, who had disappeared following the shooting of reported Mob boss Fredo DeLuca in June. Instead, they were met with Draper, asserting his control over the company amid assurances that he’s spoken to the FBI regarding the shooting and was no longer a person of interest…”

There was more, the reporter still talking while looking at the camera, but Abby could no longer hear the woman’s voice over the roaring in her own ears.

“Abby… Are you all right?”

She looked at Max, his brow furrowed, his blue eyes shadowed with worry.

“How can he… What does this mean?”

Max shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“How could the FBI clear him?” Abby asked. “He shot people! He shot Nico!”

Max stood. “I know. I need to talk to Nico.”

“They won’t let this happen, will they?” she asked, looking up at him. “They won’t let him come back?”

“I’m not sure they have a choice,” Max said. “He’s still the majority shareholder. He was adamant about that when the company went public. It limits the power of the rest of the board, and to be honest, I’m not even sure they’d be fighting his return.”

She stood. “What are you talking about? He tried to kill me. He burned down my house. He shot three people. He could have shot you.”

It was the last that had kept her up at night. She’d mourned the loss of her house. It had been more than just concrete and wood and stone. It had been her self-built haven, the first refuge in her adult life that had been all hers, the one place besides Max’s arms where she’d felt safe.

But the possibility of losing Max, the image of Jason pointing the gun at her beloved, was the thing that had almost undone her. She didn’t know why he’d turned the gun on Nico at the last minute, but as much as she’d come to care about the other man, she could only be grateful it hadn’t been Max who had been shot. Nico had survived with a minor shoulder wound. Who’s to say the same would have been true if it had been Max?

“The board only cares about profit,” Max said. “Jason was their poster boy for years, a perfect spokesperson for innovation and ambition. He could be misrepresenting the FBI’s response to his return — just because he’s met with them doesn’t mean he’s not still a suspect in the shooting — but as long as the board buys it, I doubt they’ll try to get him out. For now, at least.”

“But you and Nico already told the FBI he was at the Tangier the day of the shooting. That means they have two eyewitnesses.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening. She hadn’t loved the fact that Jason was still out there somewhere, that he could return at any moment, that she had to look over her shoulder all the time. But even that had been better than knowing he was back in Vegas, back at the helm of the Tangier.

“Nico’s not exactly a credible witness given his line of work,” Max said. “And I doubt he’d subject himself to a witness stand anyway. Once he’s up there, they can question him about anything — about his business dealings around the world, about the Syndicate.”

She bit her lip. “Couldn’t they subpoena you? Both of you?”

“They could,” Max admitted. “But we could forget details, plead the Fifth…” He ran a hand through his hair, one of his tells when he was frustrated. “I don’t know. We’ll have to see."

“So what does this mean?” she asked. “Jason goes back to business as usual?”

It didn’t matter that she’d left the Tangier after the shooting. The possibility that Jason might be allowed to return to his old life like nothing had happened — like he hadn’t killed people, like he hadn’t tried to kill her — was perverse.

Max stood and pulled her into his arms. “It means I need to talk to Nico.” He held her face in his hands and looked down at her. “And it means you don’t need to worry, because whatever happens, I’m going to take care of Jason once and for all.”