Dawn was seeping through the floor-to-ceiling windows when the creaking of the door jolted me up. I had dozed off on the couch around 3AM when I was unable to quiet my racing thoughts. Now, I blinked against the brightness of the sun, observing him enter the room looking like he'd been through hell.
Soot stained his expensive shirt. His jaw was dark with stubble. And his eyes – dear God, his eyes seemed haunted in a way that hurt my chest.
"Tony." I got up from the sofa and walked towards him before I could think. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm all right." He embraced me instinctively and pinned me to his chest. He reeked of smoke and fatigue. "You need to be sleeping."
"Like I could sleep after I watched your warehouse burn on every news station." I stepped back to look at his face. "What happened? Who did this?"
Something flitted across his face – a hesitation that brought warning bells ringing in the back of my brain. "It's complicated."
"Then break it down." I stepped out of his embrace, wrapping my arms around myself. "You promised me honesty, remember? No more secrets."
Tony ran a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. "The Torrino family. They're a rival organization that has been encroaching on our territory. This was their way of making a statement."
"A message." The word tasted bitter. "They blew up your warehouse as a message?"
"Welcome to my world, Katherine." He got up and poured himself a scotch, even though it was barely 6AM. "This is what I tried to warn you of... this violence, this danger. It's no longer theoretical."
I watched him finish the drink in a single swallow and poured another. Something about his explanation felt rehearsed, like he must have run over in his mind while driving home. There was also a tension in his shoulders that spoke of more than just weariness.
"Tony, look at me."
He reluctantly complied.
"What are you hiding from me?"
"I'm giving you all that you need to know to be safe."
"That's not the same as telling me everything." I inched closer, refusing to let him hide behind the scotch glass. "I am not what you would shield from the truth. If I am a danger to someone, I have the right to know why."
"You're in danger because of me." The words came out harsh, tortured. "Because I couldn't stay away from you. Because I let myself want something I had no right to want."
"Don't do that." I snapped. "Don't try to make this about regret or guilt. We made this choice together. Both of us."
He put the glass down and brought me closer again, his forehead against mine. "I know. I just need you to understand what you're getting yourself into. This isn't going to end. The Torrinos are not going to quit until they get their way."
"Which is?"
"Territory. Power. The usual bargain." But then, that slight hesitation. The fraction of a second that told me he was editing the truth.
I wished I could have pushed further, but the weariness in his eyes stopped me. Whatever it was that he was restraining himself for, he had his reasons. I just needed to believe that he'd tell me when he was ready.
"Get some sleep," I whispered. "You look like you're dead on your feet."
"I can't. I have meetings, damage control, a lot of things—"
"Two hours. Treat yourself to two hours." I led him to the bedroom. "The world won't end while Anthony Marvin is having a nap."
He smiled despite himself. "You're bossy, you know that?"
"And you love it." I winked
The words escaped my lips before I could help it, and we both stopped.
"Yeah?" He said quietly, his eyes holding mine. "I'm starting to think I do."
He kissed me then, gentle and devastating, before disappearing into the bedroom. I stood there for a long moment, my heart hammering, before reality crashed back over me.
I needed to work. Have a face-to-face with Richard Blackwood. Deal with the real-world consequences of having a relationship with a man whose warehouse just got blown up tonight on the news.
I changed into the spare clothes I brought with me and called for a taxi. Tony's security men were all over the building, alert and armed, and I couldn't help but fret that I needed armed bodyguards to get out of his building.
The drive to Premier Financial gave me time to consider how I wanted to approach Richard. But I hardly settled into my chair when his secretary came in.
"He wants to see you. Now."
Richard's office felt like a courtroom. He stood near his desk, grasping his tablet, his face carved from ice.
"Katherine. I've been watching the news this morning."
"Richard, I can explain—"
"Can you?" He flipped the tablet towards me. "Can you explain to me why the man that you've been so hard after to have as a client just had a bomb planted in his warehouse? Can you explain to me why all news channels are implying mafia connections and organized crime?"
"The Marvin Industries account is still a possibility—"
"Your Marvin Industries account is radioactive." He set the tablet in front of him with barely concealed anger. "I've got the board on my back asking why one of my senior bankers has a personal connection to someone under investigation for racketeering."
My stomach fell. "Investigation?"
"Federal. It began last month, so I'm told." His lips were in a thin, cold smile. "But you knew that, didn't you? That's why you've been so willing to firm up his business. What's he paying you, Katherine? Or are you so hungry for a promotion that you'd breach every ethic we stand for?"
"It's not that... I didn't know—"
"I don't care." He moved around the desk into my personal area. "You have until the close of business today to obtain a formal commitment from Marvin Industries for a minimum of fifty million dollars down payment, or you're finished here. And Katherine? If I discover that you've been giving insider tips to that thug, I'll personally see to it that you never work in a bank again."
I exited his office on shaky legs; the smugness on Marcus Davidson's face was imprinted in my memory when I settled into my office. This was falling faster than my brain could absorb - federal investigation. Ethical breaches. My whole career is on the line.
The phone vibrated with a text from Susan: "Coffee, Now!"
I grabbed my bag and headed for the elevator, hoping for my level-headed best friend's input. But when I arrived at the parking garage, I hesitated.
The Honda sat in its regular place, but something wasn't all right. The driver's side window was smashed, shards of glass sparkling on the asphalt like diamonds. And across the hood, spray-painted in red letters that looked far too much like blood:
WALK AWAY WHILE YOU STILL CAN
I shook when I picked up my phone to call Tony. But I hesitated before dialing. I saw something else. On the windshield wiper was a photograph.
Elliot and I are in the park - last Saturday. Somebody had been tailing us. Following my brother.
The phone slipped from my frozen fingers and hit the concrete floor. They knew about Elliot. And suddenly, my vandalized car was the least of my problems.