According to Raze, the feds had done everything possible to keep it off the radar, trying to prevent an all-out uproar among both the allies and enemies of the Ricci family throughout the country. But of course, the details eventually leaked, and now the power play for Chicago has begun. His exact words were, “People like me, we’re sharks. A family gets the tiniest nick in the skin of their operation and a single drop of blood escapes . . . the rest of us smell their vulnerability from miles away.”
He seems pleased that Vincent’s empire is faltering, and if I thought about it long enough, I’m sure I would be too, but I can’t think about anything but Madden. If he’s going to be okay. Why he was there. What all he knows about me now. If I’ll ever get a chance to tell him I love him.
“Well?” I stare expectantly at Raze from my couch to where he’s typing out a return message, standing by the dinette. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Yes, impatient girl. Hold on one minute. I’m trying to find out as much as I can.”
Chewing on the inside of my cheek while I wait, it seems like an eternity passes by the time he finally raises his head and locks his gaze on me.
“Your boy was discharged from the hospital this afternoon and was on a flight back to L.A. this evening with U.S. Marshal Owen Doherty. I still don’t have confirmation of his exact injuries, but obviously he’s well enough to travel. No one knows for sure why he was at Capo’s, what he hoped to accomplish, but my informant at the bureau confirmed he was there on his own and ended up getting into a skirmish with some of Vincent’s men. Things got out of hand and, luckily for him, surveillance was being run on the place, so the FBI was able to stop it before he got in too much trouble.” Pausing, he shakes his head in disbelief. “This guy is either really fucking stupid or he really fucking loves you.”
A flood of emotions washes over me when he finishes the recap, and immediately, I burst into uncontrollable tears. Relieved Madden isn’t seriously hurt. Angry at myself for getting him involved in my mess of a life. Worried he’s already begun to resent me. Scared he’ll do something else reckless and put himself in another dangerous situation—one he may not be able to walk away from. Confident he truly meant it when he whispered he loved me. Devastated I may never be able to tell him the same.
“Why are you crying, kotyonok?” In a flash, I’m cradled in Raze’s arms, my face buried in his chest. I welcome the human contact and melt into him. “I thought you’d be happy to hear he’s okay and going home. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I . . . I . . . I . . .” Each time I try to start talking, I hiccup back a sob. “I n-never told him . . . I never told him I love him.”
The moment the confession leaves my lips, I erupt into another fit of hysteria, clinging to his brawny back while I use his shirt as a handkerchief. He tightens his arms around me, holding me closer while he soothingly strokes my hair.
“Shh, there. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispers softly. “Once this is all over, you’ll be able to tell him whatever you want. Just calm down, sweet girl. No need to get this upset.”
Sweet girl—Madden’s nickname for me—echoes loudly in my ears, and instead of calming me down, the words rip my soul from me. Breathing is difficult. I can’t get enough air. My chest feels as if it’s cracked open, exposing the carnage of what’s left of my shattered heart.
In a last-ditch effort to anchor myself to reality, I dig my fingernails into the soft flesh beneath them, craving the pain that follows, the pain that reminds me I’m alive. Except, it never comes. Frustrated, I bite deeper, burying the keratin into my sides and dragging downward, and when I still don’t feel anything, I realize it’s because I’m holding onto Raze and not myself.
Hastily releasing him, I gasp with horror as I lean back to look into his face. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you? I thought I was—”
He holds a finger up to my mouth to quiet me. “I’m fine, but you need to calm down, kotyonok. Upsetting yourself like this doesn’t help anything. I know you miss him and you feel guilty for not telling him how you felt before all of this happened, but you have to believe you’re going to see him again.”
“What if I don’t? What if something goes wrong with the whole Vincent thing and he kills me first? What if Vincent never comes back from Italy? What happens to me then? You’re just gonna let me go?” I sniffle while wiping the tears away with the back of my hand. “There are all these what-ifs, Raze, and you know as well as I do that anything can happen. The actual chance of Madden and me ever being reunited is slim, and even if we are, I doubt things will ever be the same again between us.
“I mean, how will he look at me now that he knows who I am and what I’ve done? He’s probably disgusted at the thought of me. Not to mention, our relationship has now nearly gotten him killed. He probably hates—”
This time, two fingers pressed to my lips cut me off. “He definitely loves you,” he states without hesitation. “And none of that will matter to him. Not even a little bit. Trust me on this. I would’ve died a thousand deaths for my Darya to live her one life.”
With no intelligible response to his profound assertion, I curl back up against his chest and close my eyes. The next thing I know, I’m waking up to the smell of maple syrup and bacon, tucked into Raze’s bed, alone.
DESPITE THE DOCTOR’S STRICT ORDERS about staying in bed and resting for at least seven to ten days, the morning after I arrive home from Chicago, I step out of the elevator onto the tenth floor, which is exclusive to Decker Enterprises. Lance, the personal bodyguard assigned to me by the FBI despite my reluctance, steps out with me, undeterred by the leave-me-the-fuck-alone vibe I’ve been giving since he followed me into the building.
Already irritated, when I’m greeted cheerfully by the receptionist with a “Welcome back, Mr. Decker!” I just scowl and make a beeline for my office without saying a word. I’m not in the mood for fake pleasantries. I feel like I’ve been hit by an eighteen-wheeler, I’ve got an unwanted shadow, and my girlfriend is still fucking missing!
“Oh, good God, Madden,” Caroline, my personal assistant, exclaims when she sees me approaching. “You said you got in a little scuffle, not that you got the bloody snot beaten out of you. And you didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone with you to the office.”
“Caroline, this is Lance, my assigned security. He’s gonna hang out here with you when I’m in the office,” I announce, shifting my focus back and forth between the two of them. “Lance, this is my assistant, Caroline. If you need something, she can help you.”
I don’t wait for either of them to respond before I spin on my heel and stride toward my office. Grabbing a legal pad, Caroline jumps to her feet and circles around her desk to join me for a briefing, which is how we start every normal workday.
“I’m fine, Caroline. There’s no need to make a bigger deal out of this than necessary, and no, I don’t want to talk about it,” I clip, tossing my briefcase on the back credenza before settling in my chair. “Obviously, we need to go over what I’ve missed this week at some point, but first I want to let you know I’ve already sent an email to accounting to properly compensate you with a bonus for what I’m sure have been four days of complete hell. I appreciate not only you stepping up and keeping this place from falling apart, but also for allowing me the time I needed without being constantly harassed with emails and calls.”
She smiles humbly, tucking a strand of gray hair back behind her ear. “I appreciate your faith in me, Madden, but I haven’t been doing it alone. Your brother has been here, before me every morning and after me every evening, personally reviewing all the documents I’ve prepared and answering most of the emails.”