Out of Time (Fall of the Morelli Crime Family #3)

Prologue

Bianca

S lowly, quietly, I pulled my skirt up my legs, glancing back toward the bed to make sure I didn’t wake him up.

Mark was still lying in a large heap, breathing evenly. Each exhale from his mouth straddled the line, just barely too soft to be called a snore. It was adorable, perfect.

He was adorably perfect.

I glanced around for my top, finally finding it hidden among the picture frames decorating the top of his dresser. I spied my sterling silver hair clip in the shape of violets, their petals decorated with small amethyst stones, on the nightstand beside me and snatched it up before rising to grab my shirt and tip-toed back into the living room, knowing my discarded shoes were somewhere by the couch. My tote bag was also there, resting next to the couch where I’d left it the night before.

I finished getting dressed and made my way to the door. Mark would be safe enough if I left his apartment door unlocked for a few minutes to visit the little coffee shop I spotted out the window and picked up some breakfast.

I wanted to feed Mark, take care of him in this small, simple way because last night was the best night of my life. I remembered there was practically nothing in his fridge, so a small adventure was in order if I wanted to eat something other than leftover pizza.

I’d never felt so happy, loved, and free as I did with Mark. I’d been having the worst day before he bought me a drink, and then he turned a terrible night into an unforgettable one.

I always wanted the fairytale: Prince Charming, big white wedding, babies, a family, a home. Unfortunately, the men interested in a girl with my background weren’t the kind of men I’d want to settle down with, point blank.

But Mark Rosenberg made me believe in love at first laugh. He was handsome, sure, with his wavy brown hair and expressive dark eyes, but it was that ridiculous sense of humor that reeled me in right away. He made me forget about everything except him and me.

I shot a fond smile back toward the bedroom while I walked through the cozy apartment to the front door.

I remembered seeing both a cute cafe and a Starbucks across the street when we got home last night. I elected to patronize the cafe; as long as I had money to spend, small local places would always get my business over the big corporate ones.

I got a few scones and two coffees—a french vanilla latte for me and a black coffee with lots of sugar and creamer packets on the side for Mark since I didn’t know how he took his drink yet—paying with my platinum card when I realized I didn’t have cash. Then I made my way back to Mark’s apartment building, through the lobby, and up the elevator to the fifth floor.

I opened his apartment door a crack, hoping I hadn’t woken him, and found nothing but blissful silence, his almost-snores muted by the closed bedroom door. With a sigh of relief, I quietly entered and set the provisions on the counter.

My gaze landed on his wallet, keys, and the horrifying third item settled on the counter next to the rest. I dropped my tote to the floor and picked up the offending item to inspect it closer.

Yes, I was right. It was a police badge. Mark Rosenberg was a cop.

I nearly collapsed in despair.

I couldn’t be involved with a police officer. My family would disown me. No one could have questionable loyalty when you were in my family. Blood was more important than anything.

I still tiptoed back toward the bedroom. Maybe it was some kind of joke, or part of a recent Halloween costume. In the middle of May. I pulled the handle of the fold-out door to his closet, and there hung a set of Dress Blues. Mark worked with the SFPD.

I wiped away the first tears that fell. This would never work out.

Even if I could get past my family, there was still Mark’s reaction to recover from.

Men always went one of two ways when they found out who I was: they were cautious, waiting for something to go wrong so they could put some distance between us, or they’d be even more into me, eager to meet my family, and especially my father.

As a police officer, I could imagine how much farther on either side of the spectrum he’d be. And Mark was a good, ethical man. If he had any other job he might be nervous, but he’d take a chance if we loved each other enough.

With his job, he’d need to never see me again and burn this bridge.

I felt like the princess stuck in a tower, untouchable, no white knight willing to save me. I always wanted a family, but it looked like I would never have that. No dream wedding, no babies, no partner through thick and thin.

It was just one night, but I knew in my heart Mark was The One . I couldn’t see myself eventually settling for The Second Best.

So I would always be alone.