processed. Because Kramer was on Rosten’s payroll.”
“Sometimes I hate this job,” he says, ending two generations of detective work.
And I finally speak the words that have haunted me for most of my adult life. “Rosten staged a hit on the whole family, making it look like a home invasion, to make sure none of them ever talked.”
Rubio blinks, his jaw stilling. “A tip huh?”
“Yep. A random tip.”
“There’s more to this story, isn’t there McCallum?”
I don’t say anything.
He chuckles on a low exhale. “Am I ever going to hear it?”
“Maybe someday.” And maybe he will. Maybe eventually the story of how Alexandra Romanov and I came to be will come out. But it won’t be from me. I stand, throwing a twenty on the table for another untouched cup of coffee. “You ever going to tell me what my aunt told you?”
“Maybe someday.”
This time, I chuckle. “Good luck, detective.”
As I turn to walk away, leaving Detective Javier Rubio to clean up the mess I’ve made, I hear him mutter under his breath, “Well, I guess my job is done.”
I stop mid-stride and twist back around. “What did you say?”
His brows knit. “I said my job is done.”
“Alexandra’s messes are your responsibility now. My job is done.”
Luciano’s words hurl back and grab me around the throat.
Her messes.
My job is done.
I didn’t think I could be blindsided any more in one day, but I was wrong.
He covered for her.
I love you aren’t words I ever thought I’d know. They were a foreign language spoken by people living in a culture I never understood. I knew possession. I knew want.
Now I know all three, and being a selfish man, I won’t let them go.
Alexandra Romanov or Angel Smith, I don’t care what she calls herself. They both make up the woman who owns my soul. I’ll never be able to reconcile this fierce obsession I have with her, but I also know I can’t fight it. She’s mine, and I’ll ruin anyone who tries to take her from me.
Even if it’s Alexandra Romanov herself.
So, while Hilda and Angel are out putting flowers on the memorial bench she insisted on putting in the far corner of the estate, I park by the gate and walk onto the grounds. I climb up the spiral staircase in the back, ignoring the memories trying to force their way in.
I slide my key in the lock and open the door, keeping my focus as I head to the east wing.
I tear it apart piece by piece, and nothing is standing by the time I’m done.
Even me.
I’m in the bedroom we share when I hear her footsteps. They’re light, unlike the heavy shuffle I’ve heard since everything went to hell.
This means Angel is in control.
“Dominic!” I stand from my seat on the edge of the mattress as she runs toward me and throws herself into my arms. She feels so fucking thin. The past few months have taken their toll on her. She tries to cover it up by wearing things like the long blue dress she has on, but I’ve always seen past the surface.
Even when I tried not to.
“I was talking to your mom, and…” I can feel her tense in my arms as she slowly pulls away. I fight the instinct that tells me if I hold tight enough, if I protect her enough, if I love her enough, nothing can hurt her.
I promised her I’d never lie to her again. As much as it drives a knife through my heart, I release her, watching that little vertical line sink between her eyebrows.
“Your eyes look funny,” she says, a catch in her soft voice. “Why do your eyes look funny?” She steps back again, her gaze darting around the room. “What’s happening?”
If only I could keep my angel in a cage. If only I could keep her from ever remembering what she did…everything she did.
But I can’t. Eventually, Alexandra will open the door and tell her.
“Rook, what did you do to Greg Rosten?”
She swallows hard, as if her breath is trapped in her throat. “I didn’t do anything. He did something to me, remember? He raped me.”
I wish she could see how much I believe her. How much I want to turn back time and put my hands around that man’s throat and feel the life slowly leave his body. My Angel’s truth is real, up until the very end where it dwindles away like mist. “I believe he tried. And I believe he would’ve…if you hadn’t