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“ARE YOU HERE TO TAKE me home?”

“Not yet,” he answers, making a fist, although I can’t read him.

But at this point, I don’t want to. I’m sick and tired of the waiting game and need to be with Noah and Milana.

I glare up at Luca. “Then get out!”

“No.” His eyes water.

“No. No. No! That’s all I hear from you.”

“Please calm down!” he pleads, his anger of the last few days buried beneath a layer of regret as a tear streams down his cheek.

Yet I ignore his hurt, like he marginalized mine. “No. I won’t calm down, because I miss my children so much. I don’t even think you miss them.”

“Of course, I do,” he throws back, offended.

“Really? But let’s wait here until you finally get the proof before you truly believe me?”

“No, that’s not my intent at all. I do—”

“Yes, it is,” I cut him off. “Do you think that we’re okay now that Adriano’s fixing it?! Have you forgotten how drunk you were and how you fucked me and then conked out? I haven’t. And I won’t forget how you didn’t believe me until Adriano took charge. Thank God, he’s checking things immediately, which is what you should’ve done.”

Luca steels his jaw yet doesn’t speak as I remain perched on the bed, paying no attention to him any longer.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he utters an apology that has come too late.

Despondently, I look out the window at the dark blue hue of the sky, announcing it’s well into the evening.

“Fallon?” Luca comments, but I keep ignoring him.

I hear him sinking into a chair, and although I’m hostile, he stays with me, his gaze burning into my back. Time ticks by slowly, and eventually, his phone rings.

After he rises, he speaks, “I’ll be back soon. Adriano’s downstairs.”

In the window reflection, I see him staring at me before he turns to the door and walks out.

Rubbing my eyes, I keep swallowing back tears, and for hours, I wait. Marc visits, informing me that I’m perfectly fine. Yet still, no one else comes to get me while the guard is vigilant outside my door.

Then I hear a creak. Craning my neck, I leap up when Michael enters my room with a brown bag dangling from his hand.

“Hey! I’m so glad you’re here. Do you have an update? Marc cleared me.”

“No. I brought your clothes and gun.” Holding up the bag, he sets it on the bed. “I only know that Tez is two floors down in a recovery room,” he finishes, retracing his steps to the door.

“Are you leaving already?”

“Yeah, I can’t stay,” he says, slipping out before I even get a chance to thank him.

Baffled, I wonder why he’s in such a rush. However, maybe he was summoned by Adriano.

Where’s everyone? Where’s Luca?

The more I think about it, the more enraged I become, and the need to end this nightmare obsesses me. After peeking into the bag, I take out a pair of jeans and a sweater, along with my white wool coat and black boots. Hurrying into my clothes, I put on my boots and throw on my coat before grabbing my Smith & Wesson from the bag and stashing it in the waistband of my jeans. Then I tiptoe toward the door, squeaking it open to see one guard in front of my room.

“Can you get me a coffee?” I ask, and he hesitates yet nods, marching down the hall and turning right.

Racing out the door, I go through the corridor, rounding the other corner while the guard is standing at the coffee machine with his back to me. I slow my pace, and as luck would have it, the elevator opens, so I tread inside and ride down. Upon entering another hall, I peek inside rooms and nod at several nurses that I come across. Then I reach a closed door at the end, so I click down the lever and open it to see Tez lying in a bed, his left arm handcuffed to the headboard.

He turns his head that has a white bandage around it and shouts, “You fucking bitch!”

Closing the door behind me, I stroll to the foot of his bed, taunting, “Did they cuff you? I told you they’d believe me.”

“You’re so fucking stupid!” he barks and then winces, most likely from pain.

“Shut it! You’re in no position to call me names.” I inch closer to stand beside his bed. “See, all I need is to effectively end this mess so that I can see my children!” Grabbing my pistol, I direct it right between his eyes that widen, and his free arm shoots up to shield his face in defense.

After a few seconds of utter silence, he glances up hesitantly as I smirk at him. “I should really just kill you.”

“Jesus Christ. You’re a full-fledged mafia member too.”

“I’m not, but this is the effect the Syndicate has on people.” Sliding my finger over the trigger, I hiss at him, my anger begging to be freed.

All of a sudden, I hear voices coming from outside the door. “Where’s the guard?”

“On a break probably.”

I wonder whether I should just finish this for good. This type of thought never would have crossed my mind two years ago, but my conscience altered when I married Luca and became a part of this Syndicate. I’ve learned that you need to eliminate threats so that they can never come back to haunt you – that’s how this ruthless world works.