Page 34

Chapter 34

Juliette

“Can you give me a few minutes alone?” Colin zipped his bag and tossed it onto his bed. “I need to call Lennon. She texted that she was fine and had no clue why those guys came after us, but I need to hear her voice.”

“Are you sure you want to be alone after what happened?” My shoulders sagged. “You don’t want to talk about it?”

“Why would I?” He blew out his cheeks. “What’s done is done. I don’t want to relive it. I can handle myself being in danger, but not you. So, if we keep talking about it, I’ll just keep beating myself up. Unless that’s what you want?”

“You are just like your father.” My inner thought bubble burst, and now I was glad it did when I saw Colin’s smirk.

“We did make a pretty good team back there, didn’t we?” He mimicked one of Constantine’s movements from the garage, then threw in a martial arts maneuver, finishing with his palm meeting his fist in a dramatic closeout.

At least that memory had distracted him from the guilt and worry—two things I never wanted my son to carry.

He grimaced at the bloodstains on the NYU shirt. “I should change before I meet his family. Think the blood will come out?”

“While your father probably has experience with getting blood out of clothes, I’m also a nurse, remember? I’ve got it covered. Just bring it down when you’re done with the call.” I patted his shoulder, then hesitantly left, shutting the door behind me.

Since I’d already packed and changed, this was my chance to talk to Constantine alone.

When we returned, he’d disappeared into his office, and I doubted it’d been to throw back whiskey. Not that I’d blame him.

I peeked inside, unsurprised to find the two bookshelves parted, revealing a hidden room.

Curious, I smoothed my fingers over one of the shelves. “Did this come with the house, or was it an add-on?”

“Add-on.” Constantine glanced up, a rifle in his hands. Not pointed at me, of course.

“I was kidding.” I chewed my lip, unsure of the appropriate response here. Smile?

“Ah. Right. Of course.” He set the rifle aside, hands bracing on the metal table before him.

I took in the room, from the walls lined with monitors to the weapons meticulously organized.

“How’s Colin?”

I folded my arms, leaning against the wall near the entrance. “He’s okay, I guess.” Not the most reassuring answer, but I was still struggling to process everything. “He wanted to talk to Lennon before we leave, so he’s on the phone with her now.”

He locked the rifle inside a case. “Colin’s a tough kid. He’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you.”

He circled the table, passing enough weapons to fortify a small army. And who were we going to war with? Well, we wasn’t the right word. I knew this man well enough now to know there’d be no we when it came to keeping us safe.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Your worry for me won’t cancel out my worry for you, just so you know.” His voice firm. “We’re not in the handshake-and-deals territory. Not when it comes to protecting you.”

“Oh?” My arms remained crossed, nails digging into my sleeves. “And what about when it comes to protecting you?” I met his gaze, unflinching. “What if I asked you to never try and take a bullet for me again?”

His answer was immediate. “Decline.” He pushed off the table, closing the space between us. A shiver ran through me, goose bumps rising along my skin. “And not even politely.”

“Because this is what you do?” I echoed his words from the car.

His gaze dropped to the floor. “Do you want me to stop being this person?”

My stomach roiled at not just what he was asking but how he was asking it. “Do you need to be that person to protect our son from whatever trouble he’s in?”

Slowly, he lifted his eyes to mine. “I do.”

It took effort to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Then you have your answer.” I let my arms fall, prepared to leave, but he caught my wrist, spinning me back to face him.

“Now,” he said, voice tight. “The time to tell you everything is now.”

A shudder ran through me as those goose bumps multiplied. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, keeping hold of my wrist as he led me back to his office desk and out of the hidden room.

He gestured for me to sit in the leather swivel chair, and I rested my hands on my thighs in preparation for whatever was coming.

He removed his hat, tossing it onto the desk. “Colin was supposed to steal something from the Sicilian mafia at the rave. Something for Lennon’s brother. I showed up and ruined the plan.”

A week ago, that revelation would have floored me. But after the last thirty-six hours, I barely blinked. My pulse did pound up into my ears, though, as I waited for him to continue.

“I believe Colin was supposed to steal a hardware device that looks like a wallet. They typically contain bank accounts, cryptocurrency, or sensitive information valuable to the right buyer.” His voice was detached, relaying details with the cold efficiency of a man used to handling situations like this. “My guess? Lennon’s brother promised someone he’d get the device on behalf of his father, who’s currently in prison in Dublin. Now he can’t deliver.”

There was too much there to unpack. I didn’t know where to start. “You’re telling me Lennon’s father runs everything from behind bars?”

“That’s what we think, but we’re still digging into it.”

Geez, okay. “But if Colin didn’t have a chance to steal the wallet, why are they after him?”

“Because someone thinks he did.” Constantine leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “Jamie may have footage from the rave and used it to buy himself time, making it look like Colin has it. He’s hiding out at a hotel in Brooklyn for a reason, presumably from a pissed-off someone.”

The room was spinning. He’d been right to have me sit first. “What are you going to do?”

“Find out who those men in the garage work for. Talk to Jamie myself to get to the bottom of this. Once my brothers are in town, we’ll infiltrate the hotel and grab Jamie and his crew for questioning.”

“And if Jamie won’t talk?”

“He will.” His confidence was absolute, but I wasn’t as optimistic.

“But if he doesn’t? If you don’t get any leads from the guys in the garage, then what?”

A grim look darkened his face. “Then I go straight to the source.”

My stomach flipped. “Who’s the source?”

“The Sicilian mafia. I’ll ask their leader why they met with Jamie and Daniel in the first place, find out what this device is, and why it’s so valuable.”

“This is all so much worse than I . . .” No point in stating the obvious. I abandoned that thought and tried again. “And you’re not afraid to talk to the mafia?”

“No. But I’d prefer not to pull them back into this after telling them to stay away from Colin.”

“No chance they sent those men today?”

“Zero.” His answer was so emphatic that I didn’t question it. “My family is feared, particularly by the mafia. My last name holds weight with them. With a lot of criminals, actually. Almost everyone in this city, good or bad, knows not to fuck around with my family.”

He left off the or find out , but it hung in the air like a silent warning, louder than any threat he could have ever spoken.

He exhaled sharply, stepped to the side of the desk, and lowered his hands to the polished wood. The tension in his arms was visible, muscles tightening, ridges more pronounced than I thought possible. Something else was coming. I felt it as clearly as that “FAFO” still lingering in the air.

“You should also know that my mother’s father was the head of a crime family in Italy.” He glanced at me without lifting his head. “Based on the shock on your face, Carter never told Easton that.”

I swallowed hard, barely able to mouth, “No.”

He shook his head, staring at the desk. “Do you know the man Carter co-owns The Sapphire Hotel with?”

“Only by name. Sebastian Renaud. Easton said the less I know, the better.”

“He’s right.” The words were under his breath but heavy.

I gripped the arms of the chair, bracing for the impact of what was coming next. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me you know him.”

He gave a slight nod but still didn’t look at me. “Sebastian is part of an organization known as The League. Their purpose is to balance out the bad with the good.”

I frowned. “Like a ‘scales of justice’ thing?” My voice was steadier than my insides.

“That’s what it used to be. Sebastian and some of the others in charge now take a different approach. They aren’t looking for balance anymore.” His eyes flicked to mine, searching, gauging my reaction. “They’re looking to eliminate evil.”

No wonder he’s aligned with Carter.

“My father worked for them while in Italy. He rescued my mother from her family’s enemies, a rival crime group in Naples. My parents were secretly dating.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you telling me Colin’s grandparents are a modern-day version of Romeo and Juliet ?”

“Something like that.” He shook his head, his gaze dropping back to the desk as if the wood held some secret code to get him through this conversation. “He left that life behind. She said goodbye to her family when they moved to the States. But her cousin eventually made his way to New York to establish the Sicilian mafia division here.” He glanced at me again, and all I could do was gulp in response, a weak attempt at reassurance. “They’re no longer in power here or a threat,” he added, sensing my unease.

An important side note. “So, the mafia Colin almost stole from . . . they’re not tied to your mother’s side?” My words felt as tangled up as my thoughts. “Who are they?”

He pushed up off the desk, fully facing me now. “‘Mafia’ is just a broad term for organized crime. There are a lot of them. We’ve taken down a few in New York, including the biggest one. But new families always rise and take their place.” He paused, letting that sink in. “The Messina family is based out in Brooklyn. They’re the ones who were at the rave. No connection to my family, but they fear us. They know better than to cross me. And I made it very clear that they’re never to come near you or Colin.”

There it was again, that or else . As loud as a shotgun blast next to my unprotected ear.

I wanted to feel relieved we had some kind of Costa Family Forcefield around us, but I still didn’t quite understand what that meant.

“So, does that mean you’re also in this League group?” I needed to sit. Shit, I already am.

“No, they don’t operate out of the U.S., but they’re following the lead on Lennon’s father in Ireland for us.” He cleared his throat. “And I have worked with them before. They helped on a case involving my sister-in-law last year.” He traced one of the scars on his arm, and my chest tightened.

Was that animal tied to that case? I stood, my heart shattering all over again at the memory of what he’d been through. And yet, he was still standing. Still strong—a wrecking ball of good against this world’s evil.

I reached for his hand, lifted it to my lips, and softly kissed his knuckles. I offered him my silent support, hoping he could feel it in my touch.

“Tell me more,” I whispered. “Tell me everything.”

I tightened my grip on his hand, pleading for him to continue.

He exhaled. “I guess I need to return to Bianca’s death, then.” His voice was somber, laced with something heavier than pain.

“Why?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. “Why was she murdered?”

His eyes squinted slightly, like the sun had hit his face. “She loved the wrong man.” His throat bobbed with a swallow. “We didn’t know it then but learned the truth later. Mafia .”

“Oh.” I must’ve taken a step back because I bumped into the chair.

He let go of my hand and reached for his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. I watched silently as he removed a small, folded piece of paper and set the billfold on the desk.

“This is why I came to your place on Wednesday.”

He unfolded the note and held it out to me.

This wasn’t just an olive branch, it was something much bigger.

With shaky hands, I took it as he explained, “My sister used to send me tins of baked goods before I deployed. She slipped this note inside one of them. It was Christmastime, just before my last deployment. Before I left the Navy.”

C,

I know you’re strong and tough. I know you’re fearless. A warrior. A champion for justice. I know you’re all of these things, but I still worry about you. I can’t help it. I pray for you and our brothers’ safety every morning and every night. I pray that God will shield and protect you. Maybe one day you’ll even pray it, too.

Love you,

Bianca

Beneath her note were a few verses of scripture: Psalms 27 and 91. Familiar words. I read them in silence, fighting back the sob clawing its way up my throat as I handed the note back to him.

“She was the one who needed this. She was the one in danger, and I never knew it.” His voice was raw, thick with guilt. “I never prayed for her because I didn’t pray.” A single tear slipped free, but he barely seemed to notice. “I couldn’t forgive myself for that. But I kept this with me even when I didn’t feel I deserved safety or protection after letting her down. I didn’t even know she was in love. I didn’t know anything . I was stuck in my own war, my own hell, and I didn’t know.”

I reached for him, pulling him against me, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could.

“You have to forgive yourself. You know she would want you to. You have to.” My voice broke as I cried. “It wasn’t your fault.”

How did he not see that? How did he not realize?

“Please,” I whispered.

He buried his face against my neck, his body tense, the note pressed between us. “I asked for forgiveness last night,” he murmured, his free hand stroking my hair. “This note brought me to you and Colin, so . . . I—I did.”

“You need to forgive yourself, too, though.”

His breath hitched against my skin before he whispered, “I’ll try.”

We stood like that, wrapped in silence, until I felt his body shift, his tension hardening into something else.

“There’s not much more to tell you,” he said, reading my thoughts. “You already know we went on the hunt after she died. Took the life of the man we believed to be her killer. What you don’t know is that when we were arrested, my father used his connections to keep us out of prison.”

He pulled back slowly, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. His lashes were damp, dark, and impossibly thick. He deserved so much more than what the world had given him.

With a steady hand, he folded up the note and tucked it back into his wallet, his voice shifting colder and more detached when he continued, “My father did that behind our backs. We didn’t know until recently that he was responsible for changing the trajectory of our lives. The deal he made required my brothers and me to work for the government. He effectively turned us into the kind of man he’d been in Italy working for The League.”

Contract killer.

“There’s a lot of bureaucracy in tracking down criminals and terrorists. My brothers and I became tools for the U.S. government. We helped them bypass the proper channels for dealing with enemies, both foreign and domestic.”

He slid his hat back on, angling it forward, shielding his eyes. Probably not wanting Colin to see them red when he came downstairs.

“I know this all sounds bad. My father thought he was doing what was best for us. But he forced us into a life we didn’t choose.”

I’m definitely not your father’s biggest fan, that’s for sure.

“I’d rather have gone to prison than become . . .” He lifted his chin, staring at the ceiling. “But I’ve forgiven him since.”

“So, you still do this work?”

He hesitated, rubbing his jaw. “No, but my brothers and I couldn’t really stop. It’s hard to look the other way when you have the skills to do something.” He exhaled, finally meeting my eyes. “I guess you could say we created our own version of The League here in New York without putting a label on it.”

“That’s why you were at the rave. That’s how you saved our son.” It all made sense now. But there was still more. I could feel it. “We don’t need to do this now,” I offered. “It’s okay.”

“I want to.” He nodded. “The man we killed after Bianca died was the wrong one.”

“I know,” I admitted softly.

His head snapped up, realization settling in.

Easton. The call. The drinking after.

“He was still a bad guy,” I added. “My brother told me.”

He stared at me like he was afraid I’d vanish if he blinked. “Carter and his people helped us get to the truth. Bianca loved someone with mafia ties. We found her real killer a year and a half ago.”

His hands settled on his hips, jaw clenching.

“But my brother’s wife was placed in danger because of that. And it wouldn’t be the first time someone we loved paid the price for our past decisions.”

I pressed my arm against my stomach, trying to steady the nervous energy twisting inside me. “This is your way of telling me your past could be dangerous to our present. That’s why you’re afraid I’ll run. That I’ll take Colin with me.”

His jaw worked left, then right. His eyes met mine, and he nodded. “My sister was taken last fall. My sister-in-law, Alessandro’s wife, as well. Consequences of our choices.”

“But you saved them.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Like you saved us today.”

His jaw flexed, his head angling as he searched my face. “My hope is that you and Colin came into my life now because it’s safe for you to be in it.” He closed the space between us, his hand lifting to my cheek. “It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. Why you were kept away from me for so long, only to find your way back now.”

A stuttery exhalation from him pulled one out of me, too.

“I promise you, whether you stay with me or not, I will always watch out for you both. I will never let anything happen to either of you. You have my word.” His knuckles skimmed my cheek, his touch light but unwavering. “And you have my family, too. Any one of us would take a bullet for you.” His voice dropped, raw and unshakeable. “That’s non-negotiable.”

He waited for my nod of acceptance, and I knew when to pick and choose my battles. This was one I’d never win. So, I nodded, my throat too tight for words.

“We’ll go to Hell and back to keep you safe. We’re a package deal.” His voice cracked. “You get us all.”

Emotion surged through me, an unstoppable wildfire. “That sounds like a deal I’d be crazy to refuse.”

He searched my gaze, needing more.

I blinked, setting my tears free. “Do what I asked yesterday.” My voice wavered. “Ask me to stay. Ask us to stay.”

I reached between us, flicking the brim of his hat to better see his eyes.

His forehead creased, his body taut with emotion. A tear rolled down his cheek, touching his mouth as he rasped in a guttural tone, “Stay.”