A flicker of disappointment crossed her face.
She shrank back into the corner of the sofa.
“I thought…someone as beautiful and…and
put–together as you would be the only one
for Sal.”
She was so naive, so utterly oblivious to the
darkness lurking beneath Sal’s charming
facade. I almost reached out to pat her head,
but a voice stopped me.
“Mr. Demarco said you’re not to touch Miss
Ellis,” one of Sal’s men said, stepping
between us. His tone was respectful, but his
stance was firm. “And he’d prefer it if you
didn’t come to this house anymore. This is
Miss Ellis’s home now.”
The girl cowered further into the cushions,
while I raised an eyebrow. This was a new
level of protection. “Fine,” I said, turning to
leave. “I’ll go.” Sal had brought women home
before, but none had warranted this kind of
fortress.
- “Liv, this is all we could find,” Seven said,
handing me a file in the car. The information
was scant, but it was exactly what Sal wanted
L
me to see. The girl’s name was Maya Ellis.
Three years younger than Sal. And they’d grown up in the same neighborhood. She’d been working at a local orphanage before Sal
brought her here. Her record was squeaky
clean.
“Sal…he’s different with her,” Seven added
quietly.
Maybe she really was his “the one,” the light
in his darkness. If so, that made him
vulnerable. And vulnerable was good.
“He wants you to make him dinner,” Seven
said, interrupting my thoughts.
Of course he did. If Sal wanted something,
he got it. I told the driver to turn the car
around. Time to go grocery shopping.
- The mansion was just one of Sal’s many
properties. His real “home” was a simple
apartment downtown, surrounded by a small
army of bodyguards. I carried the groceries
upstairs, my mind racing. Why Maya? What
was her angle? Was she a threat, or could
she be an unwitting ally? And the bigger
question…did Sal know who I really was?
I was prepping the fish when I felt Sal’s arms
around my waist. I hadn’t even heard him
come in.
“Don’t touch me,” I said, “I’ve got fish guts all
over my hands.”
He chuckled, nuzzling my neck. “Where?” He
brushed my hair aside, his fingers toying with
my earring. I turned on the faucet, washing the blood away. “Done?” he murmured. “We
く
His lips found the sensitive skin of my neck,
and I pushed against him half–heartedly, my
resolve melting under his touch. I looked into
his eyes, dark and intense, and my breath
caught in my throat. He always looked like
this when he lost control – restrained, yet his
eyes burned with a dangerous fire.
I pulled away, my heart pounding.
“Mad?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Still sulking about your birthday?” He poked
my nose. “You’re like a little pufferfish, all
puffed up.”
“I am not a pufferfish…” I started to protest,
but he cut me off, lifting me onto the
counter. He kissed me, deep and possessive,
and I clung to his shirt, my thoughts
scattering like leaves in the wind
く
scattering like leaves in the wind. When he
finally broke away, he was smiling, that
dangerous, knowing smile.
“You know why I was hurt that night I brought
Maya home?” he asked, pulling a photograph
from his pocket. I smoothed it out. It was a
picture of me, in my police academy uniform,
posing with a group of orphans.
“Isn’t it interesting, Livia?” Sal’s voice was
low and close to my ear. “She said she
recognized you. Called you…Officer Chen.”
My blood ran cold.
“Care to explain?”
I stared at the photograph, my mind racing.
The tofu soup on the stove bubbled merrily.
<
Sal watched me, his expression unreadable.
I laughed, a brittle, hollow sound. I punched him lightly on the chest. “What’s there to
explain, Sal? You know I graduated from the academy. I just…got kicked out, remember?”
The academy expulsion story was a carefully
crafted lie, a contingency plan in case my
past ever surfaced.
He looked at me, his eyes narrowed. He
rubbed my lower back, a seemingly casual
gesture that made my stomach clench. Did he
believe me? Was he playing with me? I was
suddenly acutely aware of the knife block on
the counter, just inches away.
Then he laughed, a soft, chilling sound. “Oh, right. Silly me. I forgot.” He glanced at the stove. “Dinner almost ready? I’m starving,
Livia.” His eyes never left mine.
I nodded, straightening my clothes. As I
adjusted my shirt, I realized why he’d touched
my back. It was soaked with sweat.
- Dinner was a blur. Every meal with Sal was
a performance, a tightrope walk between
maintaining my cover and losing myself in the
charade. I wanted to slap the cuffs on him
right then and there, to end this agonizing
game.
“Livia,” Sal’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“There’s a shipment coming in at the East
Docks tomorrow night. I need you to handle
it.”
I looked up. “What kind of shipment?”
L
He smiled, that enigmatic smile that gave
nothing away. I knew better than to press
him. Sal kept his cards close to his chest,
even with me. It had made gathering
evidence a slow, painstaking process.
I nodded, grabbing my purse. “Okay. I’ll take
care of it. I should get going…”
He caught my wrist as I passed. “What’s
with you tonight? You seem…distracted.”
I forced a smile. “Just tired. Dealt with a…
problem earlier.”
He didn’t say anything, just continued to hold
my wrist, his thumb tracing circles on my
skin. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
“”
“Stay he said softly
Г
My first instinct was to refuse. “I can’t, Sal. I
have to…”
He pulled me into his arms, his lips finding
mine, silencing my protest. He pushed me
against the table, his kisses trailing down my
neck. The dim light cast long shadows across
the room. I looked into his eyes, dark and
desperate. He was always like this when he
let his guard down. Controlled, yet wild.
Passionate, yet…restrained.
- I barely slept. So, naturally, I woke up late.
The bed was a mess, but Sal was gone. I
showered, trying to clear my head. The
shipment was due at midnight. I had time.
Time to figure out Maya. Time to decide
what to do about Sal.
く
I reached into the hidden compartment of my
purse and pulled out the phone card. My
emergency exit. My get–out–of–jail–free
card. The Bureau had assured me that if
things went south, one call and they’d extract
me, no matter the cost.
But if I made that call…it would all be for
nothing. Six years of lies. The sacrifices of my
colleagues. My own twisted sense of justice.
I’d become a criminal to catch criminals, and
I’d walk away with nothing to show for it. I’d
envisioned this moment a thousand times, the
satisfying click of the cuffs on Sal’s wrists.
I turned the phone card over and over in my
hand, then closed my eyes. I slid it back into
its hiding place. Not yet. Not today.
- 11:30 PM. I drove down the deserted
highway, the salty tang of the ocean already
thick in the air. I pulled up to the docks.
Several black sedans were waiting, their
headlights trained on me. I knew this was a
setup. But defying Sal would blow my cover.
I got out, hands shoved in my trench coat
pockets, my eyes fixed on the man behind the
wheel of the lead car. My supposed buyer.
They called him “Mad Dog” Malone. The
name fit. He had a reputation for violence and
a laundry list of illegal enterprises.
“Looks like you brought my merchandise,”
Malone drawled, jumping out of the car and
giving me a once–over that made my skin
crawl. I forced a smile, retrieving the suitcase
from the backseat. “It’s all there. See for
yourself.”
Г
He just raised an eyebrow. “Mind if you open
it for me, Ms. Chen?” His gaze was
unsettling, a predatory gleam in his eyes. I
knew then, with a sickening certainty, that
something was very wrong. But with those
headlights pinning me in place, I had nowhere
to go.
I opened the case. Inside, nestled among the
padding, were rocks. Heavy, useless rocks.
Malone’s laughter, harsh and grating, filled
the night. “Well, well, Ms. Chen…don’t you
get it? The ‘merchandise‘…is you.”
