Page 27

Hailey

Max never came to bed last night. I sit up in the silk sheets, staring at the empty space beside me.

I was an idiot for confronting him about what Savannah told me yesterday.

I should have waited for him to cool down about Nick before asking about his family's marriage traditions.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, I let my toes sink into the carpeting before standing to face the day.

Is Max even still here? He could already be back at the hospital.

I wander his house, wishing for once it was smaller. He's not in any of the upstairs guest bedrooms or anywhere on the main floor. With his fleet of cars, I can't even tell if one's missing—and he could have gotten a ride to the hospital from any of his relatives.

Giving up my search, I pour a bowl of cereal in the kitchen, already missing his elaborate breakfasts when he has time in the morning. I want to learn to cook, but he insists on doing everything himself.

I play a show on my phone to avoid thinking about our relationship—or lack thereof—when the doorbell rings.

The chime echoes through the house as Rosie barks. I turn off my phone and head to the door, assuming it's one of his family members with news about Nick.

After telling Rosie to sit, I open the door to find two police officers—a man and woman. The same ones from the hospital yesterday. The woman tucks her brown hair behind her ear and shares a quick smile with her partner before speaking.

"Hi there," she says. "I'm Agent Wolfe, and this is my partner Benton." The man offers a tight smile and nods.

"We had some questions about what happened to Nicholas Marino. We were planning to talk to Massimo, but I recognize you from the hospital. I'm sure you can fill us in. May we come in?"

My mouth goes dry as I step back. "Sure."

I lead them toward the living room, noticing Benton veer off course, scanning the house like a hawk hunting prey.

Something feels wrong, and I wonder if I had to let them in. My conditioning to blindly follow authority didn't let me consider alternatives.

I just want this over with. I know Nick was shot. That's it. Maybe if I tell them that, they'll leave quickly.

Clearing my throat, I gesture toward the living room. "We can talk in here. "

This brings both agents back on track, and they take seats across from me. Who knows what Benton was looking for—it's not like Max has bodies or drugs lying around.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my pajama pants, feeling exposed in casual clothes across from their uniforms.

"Can we get your name?" Wolfe asks, pulling out a notepad.

"Hailey."

She writes and looks up. "Hailey...?"

I swallow hard. I don't want to give my last name. Dad's paid off law enforcement before, and I'm not sure I want any connection to the Calabreses either.

"Just Hailey." I shrug.

The agents exchange knowing smirks.

"What's your relation to Massimo Calabrese?" Wolfe asks.

"We're friends."

She notes this. "And are you staying here?"

"Yes."

She continues with basic questions, and I relax slightly. Nothing seems too probing. Maybe they're just concerned about who shot Nick—something I can't help with, anyway.

"Where was he yesterday afternoon, before the incident?"

"I'm not sure."

"He didn't say where he was going?"

"Nope, just that he had to go to work."

"And what does he do for work?"

"He works at a casino. He owns it with his family."

Benton smirks .

"So, if he had to work yesterday, was he at the casino?"

I pause, knowing his activities likely didn't involve the casino, but I won't risk his safety.

I nod.

"We know for a fact he wasn't at the casino yesterday. You're not lying to us, are you, Hailey?"

Heat rushes to my face. "I really don't know anything. I'm sorry."

The officers share another look when Max appears, freshly showered, wearing only a towel.

His face contorts with rage, maintaining that fury as he turns to me. My legs weaken despite sitting. I worry I've made a terrible mistake, but what choice did I have? Could I have refused?

"Do you have a warrant?" he growls.

"Nope," Benton says. "Your friend here was simply chatting with us."

"Then get the fuck out of my house." His finger trembles as he points at them.

"Hailey let us in." Benton leans back, smug.

"She's not the owner. I am. Now, get the fuck out!"

Wolfe huffs and looks at Benton, but they leave before I can blink.

Max slams the door hard enough to shake the walls. He stares out the window, breathing heavily, clutching his towel as the officers drive away. "This can't happen again, this can't happen again," he mutters .

I can't read him. His rage during the confrontation has morphed into what looks like a nervous breakdown. He paces the main floor, panic in his eyes, ignoring me on the couch.

A sob builds in my throat, worried I've truly endangered him.

What could I have done differently? I didn't reveal anything incriminating.

Things were already tense between us, and now this?

I didn't even know he was home. He must have spent the night in the basement, but I was too stupid to check there.

Had I known, I would have called him when the cops arrived.

"Max?" I whisper, breaking his trance.

He snaps toward me, eyes narrowed, almost black.

"I... I didn't tell them anything."

"You may think that, but they can use anything against me. Fucking vultures." He grabs a vase from the hallway table and throws it away from me. I hear it shatter against the wall.

I pull my legs to my chest, struggling to breathe. I've seen Max angry, but never directed at me. I can't contain my gasps and sobs as he paces manically, questioning which rooms they entered, what I told them. But my mind's blank, and I can't think straight.

He'll want me gone now. I'll have to leave, hoping my father doesn't find me. I realize my safety matters less to me than staying here. I feel at home with Max, and starting over somewhere new seems worse than facing whatever awaits me at home.

No. I can't think like that. Face those punishments? Death would be better than the starvation, torture, and isolation .

"Hey." Max's voice cuts through my spiral. He's standing nearby, though I hadn't noticed him approach.

My hand shakes as I cover my mouth, ashamed of my emotional display and my stupidity in letting the police inside. "I'm sorry," I manage.

He shakes his head. "I shouldn't have lost control like that around you."

He's probably being nice to ease me out of his life. I've ruined everything in two days: asking about marriage arrangements while Nick was recovering, and now possibly sending him to jail. Maybe I've endangered his whole family because I couldn't think clearly.

I grew up isolated but saw enough movies with the "right to remain silent" speech. I should have done that. Just stayed quiet.

"Hailey, calm down, baby. You're worrying me." He squats to meet my eyes. My breathing steadies at his voice.

Concern fills his brown eyes. "I shouldn't have thrown that vase. You know I'd never hurt you, right?"

I nod vacantly as oxygen returns to my brain.

"I'm so sorry, baby." He looks away, voice shaking, eyes glassy.

"I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind.

I'm not used to all this stress." He covers his face momentarily as my body relaxes.

I want to comfort him but feel frozen, numb from my anxiety.

"You remember what I told you about Jack, right? "

My eyes widen as I nod rapidly. How could I forget his terrible experience with police as a teenager ?

"I don't think you realize what would happen to my family if you incriminated us. I'd be cut off." He laughs hollowly. "Probably killed."

Another wave of panic hits as he paces.

"We probably seem tight-knit to you, my family, but any betrayal.

.." He trails off, shaking his head. "My dad's cousin, Mike, fucked us over.

That's why Nick's in the hospital. We handed Mike to the Russians, so God knows what happened before they killed him.

He deserved it for endangering us and getting Nick shot, but we have to quietly mourn him.

Rewriting history to make him always a piece of shit.

" He sniffs. "My dad grew up with him. Mike was at every Christmas, every birthday, every barbeque.

And now?" He stops, looking at me horrified.

"I shouldn't have told you any of that. What the fuck is wrong with me? "

"I won't tell anyone," I finally speak. "Max, I wasn't raised normally. I grew up isolated. When the guards gave orders, we obeyed, no matter what. I was following instincts, answering their questions, but I could have stayed quiet, couldn't I?"

He nods. "You never have to speak. And never let them in without a warrant. But... please just don't answer the door anymore, okay?"

"Okay." I wring my hands. "I wouldn't normally, but I didn't know you were home and thought someone might have news about Nick. Then I saw uniforms. But I'm serious, Max. I only gave my first name, said I was staying with you, and mentioned the casino. That's it. "

He rubs his jaw. "That's it?"

"Right before you appeared, they tried tricking me, saying they knew you weren't at the casino yesterday when I said you were working. But you stopped them before I could say anything stupid."

"Good."

He sits next to me, lifting me into his lap. I lean against his warm chest as he nuzzles my hair. "Can we start over?" he whispers. "I woke up feeling awful about last night. You're the only thing helping me through this. I need you."

I sit up to kiss his stubble, running my fingers through his thick hair. "I hated waking up without you."

He holds me tighter, thumb stroking my arm.

We sit in silence. Despite the tense morning, at least it led to this moment in his arms. My dependence on him scares me—my mood, safety, everything.

"I feel so worthless and alone sometimes," I whimper.

"Yesterday, I worried you were using me when Savannah mentioned arranged marriages.

I have nothing. No family, barely any money, and without the casino job, no hope for real employment—no education or skills.

I don't even know my social security number or how to find it. "

"Worthless?" He tilts my chin to meet his eyes. "Never say that about yourself again. It sickens me when you self-deprecate. You do it so often you don't notice. Calling yourself stupid constantly." He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, I should watch what I say. "

He drops his head back, frustrated. "I'm not looking for an apology. I’m pissed at those assholes you were forced to surround yourself with that damaged your self-esteem. You're one of the bravest, most intelligent people I know."

I snort.

"I'm serious." His eyes narrow.

"Sorry. Did it again, didn't I?"

"We'll work on it." He kisses my head.

I close my eyes, relaxing against his chest, finally calm. "I think I'm in my head too much alone. It was nice spending time with Savannah yesterday, but she'll be busy now."

"And I'll have to handle Nick's workload. I won't be home as much," he groans.

He tenses and freezes. I look up to find him deep in thought, like he's solving a complex equation.

"What are you thinking?"

"Do you want to meet my sisters?"

A huge smile spreads across my face. He wants me to meet family? I try to contain my excitement, but this is significant. He wouldn't introduce me to his sisters without serious feelings.

"Absolutely."

"I'll set something up." He gives me a warm smile.