Page 8 of Freeing Denver

“You have to come back,” I whisper to him, my lips trembling. “You promised me forever.”

I so badly want to give up. To tell Alistair I quit. To curl up here forever and never leave Colt’s side. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to rule. I want to be here every second until the moment he wakes up, and then we’ll leave. We’ll take Holly, and we’ll go somewhere no one can find us.

My phone vibrates.

Vince: You up?

I sniff and respond quickly.

Me: As always. It was nice seeing you today. Everyone took the news about Vincenzo well.

I already knew the head of the Capellis was dead. He’d died the day earlier, and Vince had called me in the middle of the night, distraught.

Vince: Wish I could have held your hand as I said the words.

Me: Me too.

The three dots appear, then stop. It’s a whole minute before he texts again.

Vince: Can I see you?

It’s late. After midnight. Going to his house now … it won’t look good. Especially after what Alistair said.

Or maybe this is the perfect time. It’s unlikely anyone will see and come to their own opinions about it.

Me: What if people see?

Vince: I’ve sent most of the security home for the night, and the ones still here won’t say a word.

Vince: Please, Denver. An hour. One drink.

An hour.

One drink.

Lewis opens the door, smiling weakly. “You good?”

I show him my phone, but he doesn’t voice the concern I know he’s feeling.

Thirty minutes later, the gates to the Capellis’ home are swinging open to allow us through. A single security guard doesn’t verify us, and I’m in the back seat, my identity hidden behind darkened glass.

Vince answers the door to the sprawling home in the same suit he wore to the meeting, but his tie is gone, his top button unfastened. He’s already holding a drink, but I can’t smell alcohol on him when I kiss his cheek, so it must be his first. He told me once he hates drinking if his day has been too stressful, but he picked up the habit after Colt broke both his arms. We’d somehow laughed about it, and he told me that he was oddlythankful to Colt for doing it. He said his attempt on Colt’s life in the restaurant, an attempt thwarted by me, was a kneejerk reaction that got him another beating, this time from his own family, and he realized the error of his ways. He’d looked sad as he said he hoped he'd get the opportunity to thank Colt for opening his eyes.

“How can you look so good in the middle of the night?” Vince murmurs in my ear as he leads me into a living room.

I laugh and swat his arm. “Fucking liar.” I gaze around the home—it’s stunning. Enormous. A place that he said has been in his family for generations. I let out an impressed breath as I gaze around me. “How the other half lives.”

Vince pours me a drink and snorts. “Like you grew up much different.”

“There’s money and then there’s this.” I gesture around me, and he closes the space between us before handing me a whiskey. “You’re old money.”

He grins and holds his glass up. “To old money.”

“To old money.” I knock my drink against his. “Can I have a tour?”

He puts his arm around my waist and pulls my hip to his. “I’ll never turn down an opportunity to show off that money.”

I laugh and glance at Lewis. “I’ll be okay alone.”