Page 64 of The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

“I can be there at twelve-thirty. I have a prior engagement.”

“Fine. I’ll stall them.” He checked his phone. “Are you staying in New York?”

“No. I’m on sabbatical.” I’d missed the sight and smells of home. Fuck, who was I kidding? I knew why I was here, and it had everything to do with a grown woman with sparkly-painted toenails.

“Well, if you get a chance, I want you to keep an eye on Gianna and a Vincent Monroe.”

Tension rolled through me at just the sound of their names together.

Ace watched me. “Have you heard of him?”

Dry amusement filled me. I knew Monroe’s address, social security number, and that he preferred his bowl of cereal in the morning with a side of softcore on HBO.

I nodded. “Some multi-million-dollar hotelier.”

“There’ve been some rumors they’re involved, and I owe it to my oldest capo to keep it under control.”

“You think I have time to surveil the women in your family?”

If he only knew. I’d only made it one month after the move to Seattle until the pressure in my chest became too much and I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed to see her—it wasn’t even an option anymore. So, I looked her up just to see if she was still alive. She was a walking hazard to herself and others; I had to make sure. Things might have gotten slightly out of control—checking on her becoming my daily routine—but I wouldn’t apologize for it. The sight of her calmed the rush in my ears, the beat of my heart, and I’d finally been able to focus on my work again.

He moved toward the door. “You have more men at your disposal than I do. Get someone to do it.”

Over my dead body would I assign some limp-dicked analyst to watch Gianna twenty-four-seven.

“And if she is getting serious with him?” I’ll kill him.

His eyes narrowed. “If she keeps fucking everything up, she’ll make this family look weak. She knows the consequences. If they’re involved, he’s dead and she’ll be dealt with.”

“You won’t fucking touch her.” The threat escaped me, so calm and deadly it stilled the air. Two goddamn slipups in one day. I could have laughed, but I didn’t find it even slightly amusing that Ace now knew I had a weakness—he now had something to hold over my head. My entire reputation rode on me being untouchable, and this was going to fuck it all up.

He watched my face, let out an amused breath. “Well, fuck me running.” And then walked out the door.

A TEAR RAN DOWN MY cheek. “It’s so beautiful.”

Valentina chuckled and handed me a tissue. “You only think so because you’ve won the bet.”

“Shh.” Nadia Abelli, the bride’s grandmother, glared at us from the other side of the aisle.

Val rolled her eyes. “Someone’s t

he party police.”

Elena looked so beautiful in her wedding dress it hurt my eyes. And Ace was as sharp as ever, pink tie and all.

I had won the bet.

But I was only so happy because the bride and groom seemed so happy.

They looked at each other like they were . . . in love. My chest hurt, and my smile fell. I wished love was visible, like the sparkles on Elena’s gown. Or the shimmer of the sun on skin. Then it couldn’t be hidden or faked.

I wondered what love felt like.

I wondered if it even existed.

Another tear dripped down my cheek, and I wiped it away.

As the usher directed each pew to leave, my gaze landed on Elena’s cousin Dominic walking down the aisle. “Oh, excuse me, Val. I have some business to attend to.”