Page 9 of The Mafia’s Second Shot (Burning For You Again #3)

ZOEY

T he morning sun streams through the tall windows of my room, casting golden light across the pristine white walls.

Everything about Cooper’s estate feels like a contradiction—opulent, yet cold.

Grand, yet lifeless. It’s so different from the warmth and chaos of my apartment that it feels like I’ve been dropped into someone else’s life. Someone else’s gilded cage.

I run my fingers over the edge of the polished dresser, my thoughts still tangled from last night. His words replay in my mind on a relentless loop:

“Everything I’ve done has been for you, Zoey.”

Part of me wanted to believe him, to see the vulnerability in his voice and let it chip away at the fortress I’ve built around my heart. But the other part—the louder, angrier part—remembers all the lies, the danger, and the way he kept me in the dark until it was too late.

I need air. Space. Anything to clear my head.

I spend most of the day wandering the estate, soaking in its overwhelming silence.

The grounds are immaculate, with sprawling gardens, marble fountains, and pathways that twist and turn through rows of hedges.

It’s the kind of place that’s designed to impress, to make people forget the man who owns it lives in a world built on secrets and shadows.

As I walk, I can’t stop thinking about the argument we had. The way his voice cracked when he admitted he was afraid I’d leave. The rawness in his eyes when he told me he’d never stopped fighting for me.

It doesn’t add up. If he cared that much, why didn’t he fight to keep me back then? Why let me walk away if he loved me the way he claims?

There’s something he’s not telling me. Something bigger than his guilt or regret. And I can’t shake the feeling that it has everything to do with the night I left.

By late afternoon, I’ve had enough of wandering and wondering. I find Cooper in his office, sitting behind an oversized mahogany desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and monitors displaying feeds from his security cameras. He doesn’t notice me at first, too focused on whatever report he’s reading.

“Busy?” I ask, crossing my arms as I lean against the doorframe.

His head snaps up, his expression softening slightly when he sees me. “Always,” he says, setting the papers down. “What’s on your mind?”

I step inside, the door clicking shut behind me. “We need to talk.”

He leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. “About?”

“The night I left,” I say, my voice steady. “The night you told me I didn’t need to know what you were involved in.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I want the truth, Cooper,” I continue, stepping closer. “All of it. No more half-answers, no more protecting me from whatever you think I can’t handle. I deserve to know.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Zoey, this isn’t?—”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s not my business,” I cut him off. “That night changed everything. You knew what you were doing when you sent me away, and you’ve been carrying that guilt ever since. So tell me why.”

He looks away, his hands clenching into fists on the desk. “You don’t understand how dangerous it was,” he says finally. “How dangerous it still is.”

“Then make me understand,” I snap. “You’re so determined to protect me, but you won’t even tell me what you’re protecting me from. How is that fair?”

“It’s not about fairness,” he says, his voice rising. “It’s about keeping you alive.”

I shake my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get to make that decision for me. You’re treating me like a possession, like something fragile that needs to be locked away instead of someone who can make their own choices.”

His eyes flash with anger. “I’m treating you like someone I can’t afford to lose.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. I take a step back, my chest tightening.

“This isn’t love, Cooper,” I say quietly. “This is control.”

His expression hardens, the vulnerability from last night replaced by a wall of steel. “If that’s how you feel, then go,” he says, his voice cold. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I stare at him, waiting for him to take it back, to soften. But he doesn’t. He just looks at me, his jaw set, his eyes daring me to leave.

“Fine,” I say, my voice trembling. “I will.”

I head back to my room, my emotions churning as I grab my bag and throw it onto the bed. I don’t care that it’s reckless. I don’t care that I’ll be walking straight into danger. I won’t stay here, locked in a gilded cage, waiting for Cooper to decide what’s best for me.

As I zip my bag shut, I hear a commotion outside. Raised voices. Heavy footsteps. And then, a sound that freezes me in place.

Gunshots.

My heart leaps into my throat as I rush to the window, my hands trembling as I pull back the curtain. The gates at the edge of the estate are surrounded by men—some of Cooper’s, and others I don’t recognize. One of them fires a shot, and another shouts an order, the words lost in the chaos.

The door to my room bursts open, and Cooper is there, his face pale but determined.

“Stay here,” he says, his voice sharp and commanding. “No matter what happens, don’t leave this room.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“They’re here,” he says, his jaw tightening. “And they’re not leaving without a fight.”

Before I can respond, he’s gone, the door slamming shut behind him. I sink onto the edge of the bed, my chest heaving as the sounds of the fight echo through the air.