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"So?" I turn on him, "Aren’t you listening to me? I can’t remain a cop and be part of only the most notorious criminal family in all of Europe?"
"Why not?"
"Jesus, fuck," I glare at him, "are you listening to yourself? I’d never be trusted if it came out that my brother was the head of the Cosa Nostra."
"Why not? A lot of thefagmiliaare in law enforcement, as well as in the judicial and political system."
I stare at him, "So you want me to become a spy for the Cosa Nostra and tell on my friends inside the workforce?"
"It's an opportunity, though I'd never force that on you, of course," he says seriously.
"Thanks," I retort.
"Of course, even if you stay on in the workforce you can't continue to be undercover. There’d be a conflict of interest."
"I won't be able to turn on my colleagues," I snap.
"You were ready to turn on your family," he points out.
"I was undercover then. Also, I was hellbent on revenge." I rub at my temple.
"And now?"
"Now, I have accepted that my ties to the Sovranos can't be broken that easily. Especially not, since my wife considers you assholes as being like her brothers."
"We are your brothers by blood; nothing changes that," he says in a soft voice.
"Which still doesn't change the fact that I am going to have to resign." I rock back on the heels of my feet.
"Perhaps this is a chance to do something totally different," he offers.
"You mean, like start my own security company, or maybe go private?" It’s something I’ve been thinking about lately. I drum my fingers on my chest. "That way, there is no conflict of interest or any such bullshit. I could spend time between London and Palermo, spend time with you guys, while also growing my own business."
"It would pay much better, of course. Not to mention the fact that you are one of the Sovranos, which is going to attract clients who know that you mean business," he adds.
I drag my fingers through my hair, "It could work."
"It will work." He slaps his palms on his hips.
"I'll have to give up being a cop," I say, almost to myself. Of course, I had already considered it when I had offered to resign. But talking about it and realizing that it’s imminent, that it’s the only way out, to give up the way of life that has defined me so far… Well, it’s sobering.
"How do you feel about that?"
I crack my neck, grateful that the ibuprofen has kicked in and my headache is almost bearable now.
"Axel," he prompts, "how does the thought of quitting the police force make you feel?"
"Good," I blow out a breath, "It’s the right thing to do."
"Fucking finally." He drains his glass, places it on the counter, then jerks his chin toward my bedroom, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go pack; we have a plane to catch."
48
Theresa
The thud-thud-thud of the beat pours over me, sinks into my blood. For someone who rarely went out on weekends, I have certainly become at home in nightclubs. I'd blame it on Elsa, except really, it was my idea to come here again tonight. In fact, if she knew why, she would have argued to go somewhere else. Somehow, being here reminds me of the day Axel barged in and dragged me to the ladies’ room and had his way with me. My cheeks warm. Heat flushes my skin. Will I see him again? Will he return to me?
I close my eyes and let the music of the night club wash over me. The noise in my head fades away to be replaced by the voices of BTS—my guilty pleasure. A remixed versions of BTS’Life Goes Onfills the space. It’s true what they say. You find BTS when you most need it. I raise my arms above my head and grind my hips in tune with the rhythm. I move sensuously to the music, bump and grind, widen my stance and dirty dance all the way down until I am squatting with my thighs spread wide, then I straighten my legs, jut out butt with my torso almost parallel to the floor before I snap myself up.
