by Mia Taylor
In any case, he certainly wouldn’t have her killed there.
The notion gave her a smidgen of comfort, but not enough, and she was marched through the front entrance.
Oddly, she was met with a wide smile at the doors by the maître d’. It was such a startling contrast to the heaviness in her chest, she didn’t know what to make of it and could only stare at him blankly.
“Ah! Ms. Rizzo. This way,” he urged, ushering the trio through the grand entranceway and toward the dining room.
“W-what is going on?” Mia demanded again, consternation flooding her at once.
That was when her eyes fell on Theo and she inhaled sharply as one fear melted away into another.
Oh shit. Oh no, this isn’t good.
While Mia was dressed in a pair of jeans and sweating through a white tank top, her boyfriend was in a tux, showered, polished and grinning, surrounded by his family.
“I told ya your day of reckoning was coming,” Big Earl leered and she cast him a sidelong look, wondering if he knew more about her than he let on.
“Sorry about the theatrics,” Theo chuckled, drawing closer to her and reaching out for her hands. “I didn’t want you to suspect anything.”
“W-what is going on?” Mia demanded even though she had a good idea. “What is this?”
Even though she had known it was coming, she was still shocked when Theo dropped to his knee, his hands still firmly around hers as if he suspected that she might run screaming from the country club.
I take it back! she screamed silently. I’m still a cop! I’ve always been a cop! I don’t want this!
“Steph, these past couple years have been amazing,” Theo started and she balked at the words. “I just can’t believe how incredible you’ve been for me.”
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and met his dark eyes with hers.
“I feel the same way,” Mia managed to squeak.
A huge smile broke out over Theo’s face and Mia’s eyes darted up toward his father, who met her gaze steadily.
“I’m asking you, in front of my whole family and all our friends… will you marry me?”
It was possibly the most lacklustre proposal in the history of time but Theo seemed very proud of himself and Mia had no choice but to look moved as he removed a two-carat stone from a red velvet box to slip over her finger, even before she could choke out an answer.
The ring weighed heavily on her and not just because of the size of the stone.
“I think that expression says it all!” Victor boomed and Mia realized she hadn’t given a response. Everyone in the room tittered but Angela Susi stared at her with blazing eyes.
“No,” Theo’s mother said quietly, her gaze raking over Mia with the same suspicion she’d always had for her son’s girlfriend. “She needs to answer the question or it’s not a proper proposal.”
Theo scowled slightly at her but turned his attention back to Mia, a charming smile on his face.
“Well, cara? What do you say? Will you be my wife?”
She gritted her teeth and blinked, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
“Of course,” she managed to sputter. “Of course I will!”
There was a cheer of pleasure among the rest of the Susi family but Angela continued to glare daggers in Mia’s direction as if her acceptance wasn’t what she had expected.
Theo placed a kiss on her lips and swung her around by the waist before placing her down on the ground.
“Pop, get the champagne!” Theo called to Victor, who nodded to one of his henchmen. The release of several corks erupted into the air at once and the sound only fueled Mia’s anxiety.
“Look at her!” Teresa cooed. “She’s overwhelmed by emotion!”
Mia looked at Theo’s sister and tried to smile but the expression was a grimace.
“I am,” she did offer. “I am truly overwhelmed.”
Teresa squealed and hugged her, planting an affectionate kiss on Mia’s face, but suddenly, the brunette was choking.
“I-I think I need some air!” Mia gasped, realizing she was about to pass out.
Startled, Teresa stepped back, allowing Mia to stumble toward the terrace, but to her relief, she wasn’t followed.
Outside, the blinding summer sun pierced into Mia’s head and she struggled to collect her thoughts.
It’s okay, she tried to tell herself. It’s okay. You’ve got this. It’s all for show. They’ll pull you out. You’ll be reassigned.
But as she stared blankly out into the glimmering lake, she knew she’d gotten in too deep this time. Now, she was in over her head.
I can still do this, she reasoned. Stephanie Rizzo can marry Theo, can’t she? She doesn’t exist.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Theo demanded, striding out of the club and snaking his sinewy arm around her waist. “Are you upset?”
Mia closed her eyes and shook her head before turning to him.
“No,” she lied. “I’m perfect. It was just so unexpected. I’m collecting myself.”
Theo chuckled and kissed the base of her neck. A shiver of worry coursed through her but she shrugged it away.
Nothing has changed, Mia told herself firmly, pulling Theo in for a kiss.
Theo returned her embrace and when they parted, he stared into her eyes lovingly.
“I can’t believe I’m getting married,” he cackled. “You’re gonna have a lot of pissed-off women on your ass.”
“It’s a good thing I’ve got a capo watching it,” she replied lightly. Theo nodded solemnly.
“I am always watching that ass,” he agreed, slapping her butt playfully. “That’s for sure.”
She giggled and slipped her hand into his, hoping that she’d steadied the trembling enough so that he wouldn’t notice.
“Come on,” she urged. “Let’s get back to the party. It’s rude for the guests of honor to leave, don’t you think?”
Theo pulled her back into his body and shook his head.
“No,” he argued. “They can wait a few minutes.”
Mia giggled and in spite of herself, she felt herself melting into his arms.
A slow kiss met her lips again and she felt a familiar fire burning inside her as her arms wrapped up around Theo’s neck to draw him back toward her.
“We can’t get it on right here,” she murmured between kisses but there was no conviction in her words nor was there any real resistance.
“Why not?” he growled. “You just said, we’re the guests of honor.”
In the back of her mind, shame, alarm and doubt flooded her in a torrent but Stephanie Rizzo knew how to silence them all. After all, it was a job, wasn’t it? Only a job.
A job with perks.
Theo’s breath grew hotter along her skin and she allowed herself to be caught up in the feeling.
In a few months, I’ll either be off the job or married to the don’s son.
Oddly, she didn’t know which one she wanted more.
That’s insane. I want this job to be over, I want to go home. I don’t want to marry Theo Susi… do I?
But as Theo’s embrace intensified, his hands roaming over her body wildly, Mia knew that the matter wasn’t as cut and dried as it had once been.
And as she succumbed to Theo’s animalistic touch, she wondered what her real husband would have to say about that.
Chapter One
One Year Later
The pounding on the door was tireless but Rhett had long since grown accustomed to ignoring the unsolicited visitors. He had no interest in dealing with whoever it was vying for his attention that afternoon although he had a fairly good idea who it might be.
Char had been calling down his phone like a psycho ex-girlfriend.
“Rhett, goddammit, I know you’re in there!” his partner yelled. “You can’t avoid me forever.”
Sure I can, he thought but there was no smugness in his thought. He just wanted to be left alone. Why was that so hard to understand?
/> “So help me God, Lewis, if I have to break down this door, I will.”
He gritted his teeth but remained silent, wondering if she might make good on her threat this time. He could hear the near-madness in her voice and for once, he thought she might follow through on it. Which was stupid because she had a key.
She’d do it just for show, he thought.
“Go away, Pinky,” he grumbled in a tone so low, it was doubtful that she could hear him. “I want to be alone.”
“No. Open the damned door.”
Rhett pulled himself off the sofa and looked around at the apartment with fresh eyes. His jaw twitched as he realized what a pigsty it had become.
She’s not coming in here.
He popped open the apartment door a crack and peered at her with a bleary eye.
“I’m sleeping,” he lied. “What do you want?”
Without a word, Charlotte shoved past him and forced her way into the unit, her tiny nose wrinkling as she looked around.
“Oh my God, Rhett. Is this how you’ve been living for the past two weeks?”
“It’s my vacation,” he mumbled, folding his arms over his broad chest. It was only then that he realized how he must smell.
He cringed and tried to put some distance between himself and his short but feisty partner.
“You like to vacation in the slums?” she shot back. “You’re going to get E. coli in here.”
“No one asked you to come!” he snapped to cover his humiliation.
“Rhett…” Her tone softened and she peered at him with concerned grey eyes. “You’ve got to get out of here. It’s not healthy holing yourself up in your place like this.”
He realized she was wearing a track suit, not one of the prim pantsuits she reserved for the office.
“You off today?” he asked, trying not to look at the swell of her breasts against the too-tight t-shirt underneath her zip-up hoodie. It was hard to reconcile that the Charlotte Pinkerton he worked with at the 22 and the Charlotte Pinkerton off-duty were the same woman sometimes.
Although today, she definitely seems more on-duty than off.
“Go have a shower. I’ll clean up this cesspool,” she sighed, shaking her ebony curls with disgust.
“No! No, the cleaner is coming today.”
“Don’t lie to me, Lewis. Just get your ass in the shower. I’m taking you out to eat and drink.”
“I don’t want—”
“I don’t give a shit what you want. Just do it and stop bitching.”
He ground his teeth to steel his temper. He didn’t want to yell at Charlotte because he knew she meant well but his desire to be left alone was overriding his manners.
“Char, I know you’re trying to do something nice for me but I really want to be left alone.”
“And I’ve left you alone, Lewis. For two fucking weeks. You haven’t returned my calls, answered the door, or even checked your Facebook. And I’ve given you the space you needed, but now, your mourning period is over. Get dressed. I’m not taking no for an answer and I don’t give a shit if you punch every wall in here.”
Her eyes met his and he opened his mouth to protest but oddly, no words came out. The look on her face showed no signs of relenting.
She’s right, he realized. What have I accomplished the last two weeks lying around here?
He’d spent them in a drunken fog mostly, flipping through the television channels and wallowing in memories of what he’d lost.
“Well?” Char demanded. “Do I have to drag you in there and bathe you myself?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he retorted and an appreciative smile formed on her lips.
“There he is,” she laughed. “Hurry up. You stink.”
He grimaced and headed back into the condo as Charlotte began to clean up the apartment.
“Don’t do that,” he groaned as she collected bottles off the coffee table.
“Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to,” she retorted. “Why are you still standing there?”
Rhett knew it was futile to argue with her and he slowly ambled into the shower, a flood of gratitude washing over him as the water did.
I lucked out with her as a partner, as a friend. She’s been by my side for this entire mess, even when I’ve been an asshole. I don’t deserve her.
To his surprise, bathing made him feel almost normal again, the scent of fresh soap shocking to his system. He tried to recall the last time he’d bothered to shower.
So this is what depression feels like, he thought, toweling himself off and staring at his naked body in the mirror over his dresser.
Considering his state over the past few months, he looked good. Granted, he needed a shave but the excess of facial hair seemed to hide the lines of misery which had formed around his mouth. The blue of his eyes was faded and his lips were pulled down into a perpetual frown but all in all, he didn’t look like a man who had spent the past six months in hell.
It’s been longer than six months. I just didn’t realize it at the time.
He slipped into a pair of faded jeans and pulled a hoodie over his muscular frame before running a hand through his dark blond hair.
“You need a haircut,” Char commented from the doorway and he wondered how long she’d been standing there.
“I need a lot of things,” he growled, yanking a pair of socks out of the dresser.
Char scoffed slightly and padded into the bedroom uninvited, to plop down on the bed beside him.
“You need less than you think,” she replied.
“What do you know about it, Char?” He didn’t really want an answer to his question but of course, Charlotte always had a piece of sage advice.
“This is for the best, you know,” she offered and he instantly held up a hand to stop her from going any further.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he told her gruffly. “I really don’t.”
“Fine,” she conceded. “But sooner or later, you’re going to have to deal with this head-on or it’s just going to eat you alive.”
He scowled and rose, striding out of the bedroom before she could continue. He paused in shock.
“How the hell did you manage that?” he demanded, pointing at the nearly spotless living room and adjacent kitchen. “I wasn’t even fifteen minutes in the shower.”
“I’m domestic. Didn’t you know?” she said sweetly. “But I couldn’t do anything about the smell. Can we please get out of here before it permeates into my pores?”
Rhett couldn’t help but snort and they headed out of the building to Charlotte’s waiting Mustang.
“Where are we going?” he asked, reluctantly sliding into the passenger side. It was weird to have Charlotte driving. Usually that was his job but it was clear that she was in charge and in control that day.
“I told you. Food. Drink. Not that I think I should be encouraging your alcoholism right now. Have you been eating anything at all? I only saw beer and whiskey.”
“I’ve been eating,” Rhett said defensively but even as he said it, a wave of dizziness touched his mind. He couldn’t remember the last morsel of food he’d put to his lips.
“Seriously, Rhett,” Charlotte told him, pulling out of the lot and onto West 26th. “You’re going to kill yourself if you keep this up.”
He didn’t reply and instead turned to look out the window at the fading sunlight of the afternoon.
“We miss you at the office,” she continued. “Any idea when you might be coming back?”
He cast her a sidelong look.
“Who misses me?” he challenged and she grinned at him slyly.
“I dunno. I think maybe Tracey. She’s been slipping love notes in your desk every day.”
Rhett snickered at the thought of the mousy, shy desk sergeant doing any such thing and punched Charlotte playfully in the arm.
“She’s happy to know you’re single,” Charlotte continued and Rhett’s smile faded.
“Not funny, Charlotte
,” he snapped.
“What? Too soon?” she asked innocently.
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, well, how about I talk and you listen?” she suggested in a manner which told Rhett he had little choice in the matter. He instantly regretted that he’d allowed himself to get into such a confined space with Charlotte.
“Mia got in too deep,” she continued. “She was gone for two and a half years without a word.”
“That’s how undercover work is!” Rhett snapped. “You know that!”
“I know that if she wanted to, she would have found a way to reach out to you, not just file for a divorce online.”
Rhett bristled and whipped his head back toward the window.
“Rhett, come on,” Charlotte implored. “You had to have known she wasn’t coming back!”
“I did know!” he exploded with more force than he had intended. “I did fucking know! That’s what made it so much worse!”
A deep silence followed his outburst and Rhett didn’t look at Charlotte.
“I knew from the minute she took that assignment that she wasn’t coming back. I thought she was going to be killed.”
He inhaled sharply.
“I prepared for it,” he continued. “I prepared for the knock on the door, just like every cop spouse does.”
“She didn’t help matters by cutting you out,” Charlotte snapped.
“She didn’t have a choice!” Rhett insisted. “It was too dangerous!”
“You can justify her actions any way you want,” Charlotte said coldly. “But Mia made her choice by filing for divorce while undercover. She didn’t even have the decency to wait until the assignment was done! That’s what adults do, Rhett. They sit down and have a conversation about what went wrong—”
“Forgive me if I’m not taking relationship advice from Miss Party Girl, USA.”
Charlotte’s face paled at the jibe and through his peripheral vision, he saw her hands tighten against the steering wheel.
“So, now I’m an idiot because I didn’t marry an immature wench?”
“Don’t call her that!”
“Have you even seen her since the divorce was finalized?”