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“If someone were to hurt Milo, how far would you go to protect him?” Desmond’s voice is soft, yet his eyes burn with intensity.
“Milo,” I murmur, licking my lips. “There’s no line I wouldn’t cross to protect him.”
“Good.” He presses a button on the remote. “Because this man wasn’t in your house for you.”
My heart plummets into my stomach, and my mouth falls open. I don’t even glance at the wall, not yet. My eyes remain locked on Desmond as his words settle within me. I feel the emotions I’ve been suppressing about that night bubbling up. All this time, I naively believed the intruder was there for me. Never once did it cross my mind that he might have been after Milo.
Desmond’s hand gently cups my face, his touch warm and comforting, making the revelation a little less traumatizing. “You need to know, kitten. I wouldn’t have kept it from you.”
“Milo?” My voice trembles. “Why would anyone want to hurt Milo? He’s just a baby. He’s… He’s a baby,” I repeat, tears burning in my eyes.
As a rogue tear escapes my eye, Desmond leans in to kiss it away, his lips touching mine softly. When he pulls back, there’s a deep sorrow in his gaze, and my salty tears linger on his lips. “I promised that no harm would ever come to you or Milo, and now I’m going to show you what happens to those who threaten the people I’ve sworn to protect.”
Leaning back, he uses his finger to gently tilt my head toward the glass wall. Nothing could have prepared me for what I’m about to witness.
In front of the glass, there’s a man tied to a wooden chair. His head hangs low, his chin touching his chest, and his arms are bound behind him. Blood soaks his shirt, yet I can’t see a single cut or wound. He still breathes, and irrational anger sweeps through me for one microsecond.
How dare he?
Swallowing hard, I look past the man to where Lyric lounges against the far wall. His gaze remains firmly fixed on me. “Can he see—”
“You?” Desmond interrupts. “No. Not unless I want him to. He knows you’re here, and that’s more than enough for Lyric. The glass is two-way, but only by choice, however, I alerted him once we entered.”
Pushing off the wall, Lyric stalks forward, and my chest flutters as I take in his shirtless appearance, his chest adorned with tattoos. My mouth waters as I fixate on the raven inked over his right pectoral. The wing stretches upwards to the feathers on his face, and a crescent moon hangs behind the bird. Dark ink melts down his abs before disappearing below his dark pants.
His eyes seem locked onto mine as he lifts a hand, a long knife blurring his features as he swipes his bottom lip with his thumb.
Blood. He’s swiping blood from his lips.
Movement behind him spikes my adrenaline, but I soon realize it’s Dante settling into Lyric’s spot against the wall.
“What would you do to protect the ones you love, Charlotte?” Desmond repeats the question, and the gravity of the situation sinks in.
It’s the same question, but now the weight of reality bears down on me, and I struggle to find an answer.
“How do you know?” My voice wavers, a hint of a whimper escaping, despite my efforts to conceal it. I sit on the edge of the couch, clutching the cushion, my heart pounding wildly.
“He works for the Bonanno family,” Desmond says casually, as though he’s merely watching a movie play out, and then it dawns on me—this is a viewing room, but not for movies.
“I told you that Sal’s family came looking for him,” Desmond continues. “Apparently, he was supposed to check in, and when he didn’t, this soldier showed up. He learned about you, watched you walk Milo to school. He wanted to hurt you to make you talk.” Each word he utters is a punch to the gut.
“He watched Milo?” Tears blur my vision, and my hands tremble as I press them to my lips. I blink rapidly to clear my salty tears.
“There’s more.”
“What more can there be?” I all but cry out.
“The Genovese family once thrived at the top of the food chain,” Desmond explains, a certain satisfaction in his tone. “The Bonannos aren’t in retirement. They want to take over everything my grandfather once controlled.”
Horror washes over me, and I find it hard to breathe. “What does that mean?”
“It means there’s a reason my mother broke away,” Desmond says, facing me fully. “My grandfather is a despicable man. The families didn’t have codes to live by, and they still don’t, so if someone will pay the price for a child…”
“No.” I turn away and stand, my whole body trembling. “Sara said I’d feel this, that it would all hit simultaneously, like an explosion. I can’t breathe, Desmond. I can’t breathe.” My hands slap my thighs, and I wheeze, struggling to gulp in air. “Kids. No, tell me you’re lying.”
“It’s on tape,” Desmond whispers, his voice barely audible, but I hear him.
My body sways as I stand, my hands hitting the cushions. My eyes land on Lyric, who’s standing menacingly just beyond the glass. “They are waiting.”
