Page 6 of The Mafia’s Second Shot (Burning For You Again #3)

COOPER

I lean against the wall of Zoey’s apartment, arms crossed, watching as my men set up their positions.

The first is stationed in the stairwell—just far enough not to be noticed but close enough to intercept anyone who doesn’t belong.

Another is parked across the street, his vantage point perfect for spotting anyone lurking nearby.

It’s not much, but it’s enough to make me breathe a little easier.

Zoey doesn’t seem to share my sentiment.

“Are you done yet?” she asks sharply, pacing the living room with her arms folded.

Her words are clipped, her tone hostile.

But her body tells a different story—the slight tremor in her hands, the way she keeps glancing at the window like she’s expecting someone to burst through it.

She’s trying to keep it together, but I know fear when I see it.

I don’t comment. The last thing she wants is for me to point out that she’s shaken. She’d rather die than admit she’s anything less than invincible.

“For now,” I reply evenly, keeping my voice calm. “But they’ll stay close, just in case.”

She stops pacing and turns to face me, her expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “You don’t get to make that decision, Cooper.”

“I do when your life is at stake,” I counter. “Whether you like it or not.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think she’s going to throw me out. But instead, she drops onto the couch, her head falling into her hands.

“This isn’t my life,” she mutters, her voice muffled. “I didn’t ask for this.”

Her words hit harder than I want to admit. She’s right, of course. She didn’t ask for this—not the danger, not the shadows, not me. And yet, here we are.

“I know,” I say quietly, stepping closer. “But it’s the life you’re in now. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

She looks up at me, her eyes flashing with something that’s equal parts anger and despair. “Why? Why do you care so much now, after all this time?”

I pause, weighing my words carefully. “Because I made a mistake,” I admit. “And I won’t make it again.”

She stares at me for a long moment, searching my face for something. Forgiveness? Honesty? I don’t know. But whatever it is, I can tell she doesn’t find it. She stands abruptly, crossing her arms over her chest like a shield.

“Enough with the cryptic bullshit,” she snaps. “Tell me what’s really going on, Cooper. The truth. All of it.”

I hesitate, my gut twisting at the thought of laying it all out for her. She deserves to know, but once she does, there’s no going back. And I don’t know if she’s ready to hear it.

“Zoey,” I begin, but she cuts me off.

“No more half-truths,” she says, her voice rising. “No more evasions. If I’m in danger because of you, I have a right to know why.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Fine. You want the truth? Here it is.”

I step closer, lowering my voice. “Years ago, I made a deal to take down one of my biggest rivals—Rosetti. It was messy, and a lot of people got hurt. But it worked. His business crumbled, his people scattered. I thought it was over.”

“But?” she presses, her arms still crossed.

“But it wasn’t,” I admit. “There were survivors. People who blame me for what happened, and they’ve been waiting for their chance to strike back.”

Her eyes narrow. “And what does that have to do with me?”

“They think you were involved,” I say simply. “That you might know something about the deal I made.”

Her laugh is sharp and bitter. “That’s insane. I don’t know anything about your world, Cooper. I never did.”

“I know that,” I say. “But they don’t. And they’re not the kind of people who care about the truth. They just want leverage.”

Her expression shifts, her anger giving way to something darker. “So this is my punishment,” she says quietly. “For loving you.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, but I don’t flinch. “This isn’t about punishment,” I say. “It’s about survival.”

“Survival?” She shakes her head, a harsh laugh escaping her lips. “You dragged me into your world, Cooper. You lied to me, over and over again. And now, years later, I’m supposed to just... what? Trust you to fix it?”

“Yes,” I say simply.

She stares at me, her jaw tightening, her fists clenching at her sides. “You don’t get to ask for my trust. Not after everything.”

I don’t argue. She’s right. I don’t deserve her trust. But that doesn’t change the fact that she needs me. And whether she wants to admit it or not, she knows it too.

She storms past me, heading to the kitchen, her back rigid with anger.

I don’t follow. I know better than to push her when she’s like this.

Instead, I turn to the window, my eyes scanning the street below for any sign of trouble.

The lights of the city stretch out endlessly, but they don’t bring me any comfort.

If anything, they feel like a reminder of how far I’ve fallen—and how much further I have to go to make this right.

It’s late when Marco calls. I’m sitting in the dark, nursing a glass of whiskey, when my phone buzzes on the coffee table. I grab it, my heart sinking at the sight of his name.

“What is it?” I ask, skipping the pleasantries.

“We’ve got a problem,” Marco says, his voice grim. “Zoey’s name came up again.”

My grip on the phone tightens. “Details.”

“Same source as before. Rosetti’s people are moving faster than we thought. Word is, they’ve got eyes on her.”

The knot in my stomach tightens. “Do we know who?”

“Not yet,” Marco admits. “But it’s only a matter of time.”

I hang up without another word, my mind racing. If they’re watching her, it means I’m already too late. The security detail I set up won’t be enough. Not if they’re serious.

I grab my jacket and head for the door. Zoey might hate me, but she’s going to have to deal with it. Because I’m not leaving her side until this is over—no matter what it costs me.