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“Fallon!” Marcus’s voice is a rough whisper. He strides over, cupping my face with his hands, and presses his lips to mine in a desperate kiss that has me jerking away, not expecting it.
“Marcus, what the hell—”
“I spoke to your father,” he cuts me off, his eyes searching mine. “I have a plan. We can leave the country. A friend has a private plane...”
“Right...” I laugh, incredulous, the absurdity of it all feeling like a scene from some twisted movie.
“Listen to me.” His grip tightens, pulling me closer. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m an undercover cop, Fallon. I’ve been investigating the Pressuttis for years. I can get you out of this.”
The words hit me like a ton of bricks. A cop? Undercover? All this time...
“What?” I falter, stumbling backward.
His declaration hangs between us, a lifeline offered. And as much as I want to grasp it, to cling to the promise of freedom, doubt gnaws at me. Can I trust Marcus?
Marcus’s eyes, a deep blue that once seemed like an ocean of secrets, now burn with an intensity that roots me to the spot. “I am being serious,” he asserts, his hands on my shoulders as if trying to anchor this reality into existence. “I can get you all out. You just need to make it to the casino.”
My heart pounds against my rib cage like a caged bird desperate for freedom. “Why are you doing this?” I question, searching his face for the truth.
He sighs, his gaze softening but never wavering from mine. “You haven’t figured that out yet, Fallon? Why else?” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I want to be with you. You deserve better.”
The words hang in the air—a confession, a promise, a risk. Before I can process them, before I can formulate a response, Marcus steps back and exits the bathroom, leaving me alone in the echoing silence.
Dad did say Marcus came to see him. The thought circles in my mind. With a shaky breath, I force myself to move, to follow the path laid out by duty and circumstance.
Approaching my sister’s room, my steps falter as the door swings open, and Leone steps out, poised to track me down. His dark brows lift in a mixture of surprise and relief.
“Fallon,” he breathes, and there’s an edge of something fierce in his voice—ownership, fear, maybe even affection.
I don’t have time to think, to question what his look means or how my heart races at the sight of him. He wraps his arm around my waist, jerking me to him and crushing me against him. Instinctively, I rise on my tippy-toes and press my lips to his.
“I thought you ran,” Leone murmurs against my lips, a note of something like vulnerability threading through his usually authoritative tone. His grip tightens possessively.
“And where would I go?” My voice is steady, but inside, I’m a whirlwind of doubt and desperation.
Leone laughs. “Nowhere that I won’t find you.” His reminder sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just a statement; it’s a promise—or perhaps a warning. I nod, acknowledging the truth of his words, the reality of his reach.
We spend the rest of the day at the hospital when Leone tells me we have to leave. I turn away to say my goodbyes, feeling the weight of Leone’s gaze on me. My father pulls me into an embrace, rough and warm. His voice is a whisper against my ear, urgent and soft. “Let Marcus help you.”
I nod once, a subtle movement, hoping Leone doesn’t catch the exchange. Pulling back, I plaster on a smile that feels like a mask. The hospital room feels too small, every second stretching out, filled with unsaid words and unmade decisions.
“Time to go, bella,” Leone calls out, his tone deceptively light.
“Goodbye, Dad.” My voice cracks slightly as I pull away from his embrace. I kiss Emma on the forehead.
“Come see me once I am out and at home,” she says, her hand squeezing mine.
I look at Leone and he nods subtly. “I will,” I promise, though I know my life isn’t entirely in my hands.
Leone ushers me out of the hospital room, his presence a shield and a cage. As we walk through the sterile corridors, I can feel the tension coiling in my stomach. Every step towards the exit is a step further from the chance Marcus offered.
Outside, the city looms around us, indifferent to my turmoil. Emma is getting better each day, yet I am losing who I am to two men. I am no longer sure I hate, but I know I should. The sun is a harsh observer as we slide into the sleek black car waiting to take us back to Leone’s. The driver knows better than to speak; our silence in the back seat is its own conversation of the easing tension between us. But now I need to convince Leone and Milo to take me back to the Casino, but I don’t believe that will be easy after the last incident there.
THIRTY-SIX
LEONE
Two months later
