Chapter Thirty-Three #2
All Caleb wanted was to take her home. To her trailer on the rez.
Hold her until that haunted look faded.
Until she stopped checking her rearview mirror.
Until she no lo nger flinched at every touch.
His phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket, brows lifting at the name on the screen.
Carson Elliott.
The Phoenix detective investigating his mother’s death.
Felt like a lifetime ago.
“Detective Elliott.”
“Mister Varella. I canvassed your mother’s neighbors like you asked.
One of them remembered seeing her the morning of her overdose—talking to a man outside her apartment.
He handed her a small white paper bag. Looked like it came from a pharmacy.
” A pause. “About five-eight to five-ten. Salt and pepper hair. Distinctive mustache.”
“Manuel Ortega,” Caleb growled. His mother had reconnected with his father’s sleazebag friend.
“His employer says he’s out of town. I plan to question him when he returns.”
“Don’t bother,” Caleb said flatly. “He’s dead. Gunned down last night in Albuquerque. The FBI can confirm.”
“Huh. Well, one bad guy down,” the detective said. “Unfortunately, plenty more to take his place.” A beat passed. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss. I hope this gives you some closure.”
Caleb ended the call and looked down at the silver and turquoise bracelet on his wrist—the one from the box of his mother’s belongings.
Closure.
Vincente Lopez and his cousin Juan were dead. Ramón Lopez was in custody. And if Diego Lopez ever learned the truth about who ordered his son’s murder, Ramón wouldn’t stay alive for long.
If closure mean t letting go of the vendetta and building a future with Gia, then yeah.
He had closure.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Agent Walton appeared. “They’ve finished interviewing Doctor Barone.”
Caleb’s shoulders loosened. “Is she free to leave?”
Walton hesitated. Sympathy flickered in his eyes.
“No.”
Gia stood outside the conference room with a female federal agent—her name escaped her—while the agents inside decided her fate.
Fatigue pressed down on her like a weight. She fought to stay upright.
She’d told them everything. In excruciating detail.
How she’d met Vincente. What little she’d seen of his business dealings. The people they’d dined with—names when she knew them, faces picked from photographs when she didn’t. Times. Places.
The first time she met the man the DEA identified as their agent, Antonio Cardenas.
The night Vincente murdered him on the yacht.
How Juan dumped his body overboard.
Then the questions had turned personal.
How Vincente ha d charmed her. When the relationship became twisted. Controlling. Her childhood. Her ties to known Mafia figures in New York.
Why she’d taken the name of a dead child and forged a new identity.
Shame burned her throat. Pricked behind her eyes. By the end, she wanted to curl up in a corner and disappear.
“Gia.”
Caleb.
She hadn’t heard him approach. Something in her expression made his face tighten.
“It’s going to be okay, baby.”
A sob broke free—sudden and sharp. She bit her lip and pressed her face into his chest.
Warm. Solid. Safe.
He smelled of sandalwood, spices, and home.
His palm swept in slow circles across her back.
She wanted to sink into him, disappear into his strength, and never let go.
“I love you, Gia,” he murmured against her ear. “Whatever happens, we face it together.”
He cupped her face, a crooked smile stealing her breath. “You’re my family.”
The love in his eyes rocked her.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she whispered, “but there’s no one I’d rather spend my life loving than you.”
The conference room door opened.
Lucas Caldwell filled the threshold. “Doctor Barone, step inside, please.”
Caleb’s fingers laced with hers. “I’m coming with her.” There was no negotiation in his tone.
“Suit yoursel f—if Doctor Barone allows it.” Caldwell held the door.
Gia clutched Caleb’s hand and followed him in.
The agents inside said nothing, their expressions blank.
Her throat tightened.
Caldwell waved them to their seats and took his own. “After reviewing your testimony—and given that the men responsible for Special Agent Cardenas’s murder are deceased—we won’t pursue charges for misprision of felony or accessory after the fact.”
A low roar filled Gia’s ears. She caught snatches of Caldwell’s words—fear for her life, the power imbalance in her relationship with Vincente, her service to the Navajo community.
Chairs scraped. The agents stood.
AD Caldwell gathered his files, stacking them neatly into a black leather briefcase.
“What about Espina Negra?” Caleb asked. “If your mole leaks our identities…”
Gia’s heart stuttered. She’d assumed with Vincente and Juan dead, and Ramón in jail, she was safe.
“The mole worked for Ramón. Now that Ramón’s in prison, I expect him to peddle his services to Diego.” Lucas’s expression hardened. Gia recognized that look—the cold, flat stare she’d seen in Caleb’s eyes the night at Lucero’s. “And I’ll be waiting.”
The click of his briefcase echoed in the silence.
“As for retaliation, Diego’s likely already put a death order on Ramón. Even if he ends up in federal supermax, he won’t last. With two top lieutenants gone, the DEA expects Espina Negra will fracture. Rival cartels will move in. Diego will have his hands full.”
“So, that’s it?” Caleb’s gaze slid to Gia, then back to Caldwell. “No retaliation?”
Lucas held his stare. “No guarantees. But Gia was never a threat to Diego. And you? You didn’t kill his son. You just happened to be in the way of those who did.”
The door whispered shut behind him.
The empty conference room, once suffocating, suddenly felt as cavernous as an arena.
It was over.
She could stay Gianna Barone.
No more hiding behind false identities.
No more running.
No more flinching at shadows, seeing danger in every stranger’s face.
Relief should have flooded her.
Instead, she felt…nothing.
She searched Caleb’s face, needing something solid to anchor herself to.
Warm fingers closed around hers. Tugged her to her feet.
“Gia.” His voice was steady, solid. “You’re free. It’s over.”
“Over.”
She tested the word. Let it settle on her tongue. Waited for it to take root in her brain.
“Now what?”
He brushed a kiss over her lips. Squeezed her hand.
“I have one thing left to do here in Phoenix. Then we go home.”