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“Um, just some clothes I need to get rid of.” I just told this man that I loved him, but I wasn’t sure that I could tell him all of my secrets.

Colm looked at the bag and then back at me. “Wanna try that again, Sadie Rose?”

I sucked in a deep breath, slammed my eyes shut, knowing that this moment was inevitable. “There was this guy, Owen.” Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. I shared every detail from the rape to the shame to the need for revenge. “Those are the clothes I wore that night. And the knife.”

Colm was quiet for so long that I started to plan what I would do without him. How would I explain today’s absence from school to my mom to avoid trouble? How would I go back to life without Colm?

“That’s all?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“This,” he held up the bag and grinned. “This is no big deal. We’ll make a quick stop and burn it.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’re my woman, Sadie Rose. I’ll make sure no one ever finds out what happened to that motherfucker. I promise.”

It was a promise Colm kept until the day he died. Even when I found out I was pregnant with Owen’s baby, he took me to the abortion clinic, held my hand and smiled. “That fucker’s seed doesn’t deserve the life we’re gonna have together.”

After that day, my parents disowned me and I never went back. There was no evidence that Owen and I had ever been together after the rape. And over the years, I made sure everyone who was there that day paid the price for their cowardice. Thanks to Colm and Cillian, I learned the ins and outs of the tri-city underworld, and most of all, I learned how to cover my tracks.

“Did you hear me, Ma?”

Kat’s voice pulled me from the past, and I looked at her with a bland smile. “What?”

“I said I’m not sure just alterations will cut it with this dress.” She was annoyed with me again, which seemed to be her permanent state these days.

“Don’t be silly, Katherine. We can find more fabric and alter it so it fits you perfectly.” This dress was the closest thing I had to a family heirloom to pass on to my only daughter, and she would damn well take it.

Kat rolled her eyes, hung the dress up with the gentle care it deserved and walked out of my expansive walk-in closet without a word. Without a look back.

What the fuck was it about mothers and daughters? Were we doomed to hate each other from one generation to the next?

Chapter Two

Sadie

“They’ve already been investigating these murders for months. If they haven’t found any evidence yet, chances are they won’t.” I admit that a small sliver of fear went through me when I heard the FBI had created a joint task force to investigate the shooting deaths of Bishop Mueller and Bonnie, but they’d been at it too long to have found anything, and I felt myself starting to relax.

Thomas listened carefully, the way he always did. His hazel eyes were bright and intelligent, and I knew without a doubt he always had my best interests at heart. Not the family, not the Organization but me. Just me. “Do you plan to intervene?”

“If I have to, I will.” At this point, chances were slim I would need to do anything to avoid arrest. The scene was clean. I made sure of it,. Whatever evidence the feds thought they had wouldn’t come back to me or anyone associated with the Ashby family or business interests. “You worry too much, Thomas.”

His smile was small, but I saw it. “Or maybe you don’t worry enough, Sadie.”

I shrugged. “Maybe you’re right, but the fact remains that I’m not worried, so you shouldn’t either. I need a drink.” I pushed away from my desk with a sigh and made the short trip to the bar to pour myself a glass of Velvet Fire. Virgil did well for himself with that whiskey.

The phone rang on my desk, and Thomas answered it in his stiff, cultured way. “Sadie Ashby’s office, what can I do for you?” He nodded and turned to me. “Officer Howard.”

I smiled and took the phone, ignoring the tingle that shot through me when Thomas’ fingertips brushed mine. “Howard, how are you today?”

Howard Sullivan was one of the many law enforcement officers who were happy to earn a little extra cash for providing me with intel.

“Good, thanks. Are you up for a friendly chat, Ms. Ashby?”

Shit, the cops wanted to talk to me. “At the café on Washington?”

“Yep, on Washington, but I think it’s locally owned. Our chat should happen soon.” Howard ended the call abruptly, and I turned to Thomas.

“Bad news?”

I nodded. “The feds are on their way here to talk to me. Jameson Ellison is coming with them.”

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