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I recognized him, though, despite the poor quality. Raphael Caruso, Antonio's younger brother, a ruthless thug I'd encountered years before. I'd saved Jonah from him once, but it had come at a cost.
The Carusos were a threat that couldn't be underestimated. Raphael's disappearance had lulled us into a false sense of security, but now he was back, and I had to protect Ryleigh at all costs.
There were signs of a leak within Tyler's department, a dirty cop in Caruso's pocket. If Tyler connected the dots, it could mean trouble. But for now, I had to focus on the immediate threat.
Antonio Caruso's empire loomed large, built on a foundation of crime and corruption. He was watching Ryleigh, but he didn't realize that I was the real threat. I could piece together the puzzle, and once we returned from our honeymoon, I would have a plan to end this once and for all.
Ryleigh
"More?" I asked, as he handed me a piece of paper with a few additional names scrawled on it.
"Our reception is ballooning to almost five hundred people. I need to put my foot down with you," I sighed, exasperation evident in my voice.
Oliver had been sneakily adding names to the guest list since we ordered the invitations a month ago. He probably thought I didn’t notice that he'd ordered seven hundred instead of the four hundred we initially agreed upon. The Garden Room could barely accommodate five hundred fifty guests, and at Oliver's rate, we'd hit capacity fast.
"They're business associates. I don’t want to say no," he reasoned, his tone pleading.
"Do you want me to say no?" I shot back, feeling the tension rising.
"I could just see that," he teased, throwing his hands up in the air.
"You're making me crazy. I'm so stressed," I confessed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me.
Oliver leaned back in his office chair. "I can help with that," he suggested with a suggestive smile.
"Yeah, you can. Stop adding to the list," I retorted, shutting down his advances.
"I mean in other ways. It's after hours and we're all alone," he persisted, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
"No. I'm not in the mood," I replied firmly, trying to push away the frustration and fatigue that clouded my mind.
I missed him terribly during his frequent trips over the past few weeks. Our sex life had taken a hit, and I longed for the intimacy we once shared on a nightly basis. Now, it has been reduced to just a few times a week.
"Ryleigh, tomorrow is the last trip. I just need to seal the deal," Oliver reassured me, his voice tinged with desperation.
"I hope so, or I'm calling off the wedding," I threatened, half-serious and half-teasing, knowing it would hit him hard.
With Oliver away so often, my stress levels had skyrocketed, and my nightmares had returned with a vengeance. The video Tyler had shown me of my father's killer had reignited painful memories, haunting me in my sleep. And with Oliver's absence, I found solace in the company of our pet Trouble, his warmth a comfort in the lonely nights.
Sadie was just about ready to pop and I hadn’t been able to spend time with her as much as I would like. She was pretty much in the same boat as me since Finley was now twice as busy. Once it got out that Oliver had an interest in Stewart Applications, the company was flooded with orders. Finley was working fifteen-hour days and Sadie was not happy about it.
"You're not calling off shit. I swear, if you do, I’ll kidnap you and take you to the justice of the peace," Oliver growled, his voice dripping with determination.
"Where the hell is there a justice of the peace? Plus, how would you get me to sign for the marriage license?" I countered, trying to hide the smirk playing on my lips.
He flashed a confident smile, his white teeth gleaming. "You forget, I’m Oliver Fox."
"Arrogant fuck," I muttered, unable to suppress a grin of my own.
"You bet your sweet ass. Now finish what you were doing when I called you in here and let me spend the rest of the night asking for forgiveness," he demanded, his tone softening slightly.
"That will take more than one night," I teased, knowing full well his persuasive abilities.
"I bet I can make you change your mind. What are you working on anyway?" he asked, shifting the conversation.
"I was reviewing budget analysis that Mark provided me. He made some suggestions for the Miami project," I explained, gesturing toward the papers scattered on the desk.
"I’d like to see them," Oliver replied, his interest piqued.
