Are they even turning a profit? Or is this really some twisted Robin Hood fantasy? Profit drives everything in Rafael’s world. A man doesn’t build an empire by giving charity.
No. This has Romero written all over it. We hadn’t met when the tragedy happened, but he lost his mother to the cold hand of death because of medical negligence. She had type 2diabetes and high cholesterol—conditions that were manageable with the right medications.
But the family couldn’t get their hands on Ozempic, which was still in its early stages back then and hadn’t even been FDA-approved. They couldn’t afford the absurdly expensive insulin prices either. Romero’s dad was just a foot soldier back then and barely made enough to feed the family.
In the end, she settled for a cheaper alternative that attacked none of her actual issues. She succumbed to her diseases just months after her diagnosis. This underground network must be Romero’s and the guys’ way of honoring the woman.
I turn restlessly on the bed just as my bedroom door creaks open and Katie peeks in. She takes one look at me—at whatever naked emotion is playing across my face—and it’s like she plucks the thoughts right out of my head.
“Please tell me you’re not humanizing the Nightshades because of what we discovered two nights ago.” She strolls into my bedroom uninvited. “They’re the bad guys, Em. This one act ofkindness—” she practically chokes on the word, “—doesn’t erase all the blood on their hands. And I guarantee you, there’s something more sinister going on than what you’re willing to believe. Whatever it is, it sure as hell isn’t redemption.”
She’s right. Logically, she’s absolutely right.
But logic isn’t the problem here. It’s my heart that’s confused. The stubborn thing still misses my old friends. And Rafael…
My suspicions that he was telling the truth about not killing my father are slowly starting to solidify into something stronger. A conviction.
He cared about me, damn it.
He never said as much, but I knew. I could feel it in his actions, in the way he looked at me—stilllooks at me. There’s no way someone capable of showing this kind of mercy tocomplete strangers could just turn around and execute someone he genuinely cares about.
No way.
Same way I—even at the height of my hatred for him—could never hurt him. Not really.
There has to be an explanation. There has to be.
I sit up suddenly, hit by an epiphany. “I’m going in.”
Excitement propels me off the bed, and I dash to my ensuite where I start brushing my teeth in a hurried frenzy. Katie trails behind me, watching me like I’ve just sprouted two horns and a tail.
“Going inwhere?”
“The office,” I answer after spitting out the paste and rinsing my mouth. “I need to know everything that happened ten years ago.”Everything. I strip off my sleep shirt and carelessly toss it into the laundry basket as I step into the shower.
No, scratch that. Not even ten years ago. I should start my search from fifteen years ago. Starting with why my father faked his death and remained hidden from me for five years, and why he had to die for real ten years ago.What secrets did you take to your grave, Dad?
“You’ve lost me, babe. What happened ten years ago? You mean when Rafael kicked you out of his house like a stray dog? Or when hekilled your father?” The hostility in her voice takes me aback, and I blink at her through the shower steam.
“Both.” I regain my composure and frown a little. “I think there’s a deeper secret—something crucial I’m missing. Not just from ten years ago but fifteen years ago when this whole mess started.” Why would a federal agent ever bother working with some small-town detective, for example?
Now that I’m an agent myself, and I’ve been tasked with taking down someone as powerful as Rafael Moretti, I try to picture a younger Stacey assigned to take out Alfonsi Moretti, Rafael’s father.
Why would she team up with my dad? Even if he was already building a case against Alfonsi, and was one of the few clean cops Alfonsi couldn’t keep in his pockets, it still doesn’t make sense. I know I would never team up with a cop. They can be so arrogant and territorial, and too hasty to make an arrest.
“I don’t know, Emily.” Katie’s words draw me out of my musings. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea to go poking around the past. Can’t you let it be?”
I turn off the shower and grab a towel, wrapping it around my body. “I wish I could,” I say truthfully. But I know myself too well. Now that the idea is in my head, it’s going to bounce around until I do something about it.
Back in my bedroom, I start dressing quickly. Katie watches me, then sighs in defeat. “Just be careful. You don’t know if your moves and actions are being watched.”
“By someone in the bureau?” I frown, immediately dismissing the idea. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would anyone want to spy on me?”
She shrugs without elaborating.
“Want to come with me?” I suggest, wiggling my brows playfully, trying to lift her from whatever mood has suddenly seized her. She chuckles as expected, but it’s forced—a pale imitation of her usual laugh—and worry niggles at the back of my head. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She sighs, sinking onto the edge of my bed. “I’m just worried about you. You’re caught up in so much mess—first the Nightshades, and now this.”
