Chapter 43
June
~ Six months later ~
I smooth down my dress in front of the mirror, glancing over my shoulder at Tracey, who’s leaning against the door frame, watching me with a well-disposed smile.
“You’ve come a long way, you know,” she says, her eyes warm. “Look at you, all dolled up and so giddy.”
I smile as I brush a final touch of gloss on my lips. She’s right, things have changed a lot in the past few months. Before I left to be handed over into Ryker’s hands, I spent most of my time hiding in my room, grieving the loss of my father. Tracey and I barely talked and just passed each other like satellites orbiting the same planet, our small apartment. I was too wrapped up with my grief and my research about the events that led to my father’s downfall.
As it turns out, the Cortesi named an official branch of Ryker’s money laundering business in one of the documents I had found in my father’s office to deflect and keep their names out of anything official that may be seen by the authorities. I latched onto that name and stopped digging further, because I was convinced I had found the right culprit. And I was busy crafting my revenge plan ever since. I fell for their trap and went after the wrong man.
Tracey knew nothing about any of this. She knew my father had died shortly before she moved in with me, but she never knew about my plan for revenge. We weren’t exactly close, and I told her I was just going on a trip when I left the house to meet up with the Reids.
But after I returned as a survivor, the victim of a Mafia kidnapping who managed to flee by herself, Tracey didn’t hesitate to help me as much as she could. She was especially helpful in dealing with the media frenzy that followed, keeping nosy journalists as far away as possible.
“That dress looks so good on you,” she praises, a proud smile gracing her face.
“Thanks, Tracey,” I say, setting my lip gloss down and meeting her gaze in the mirror. “For everything, actually. You’ve been such a great help in the past few months.”
“Are you kidding?” She laughs, brushing it off, but I can tell she’s moved. “I had the story of the century living under my roof. That ‘Young Woman Kidnapped by Mafia Family’ headline had my whole office talking.” She shakes her head. “I just wish you didn’t have to be the main character in it. I’m sure you could do without that horrible experience.”
I grimace at the memory of the Boston tabloids splashing my face across their pages. The entire city seemed obsessed with the story, but it all felt wrong. I never wanted attention like that, especially not for something that was only half true. Yes, I was kidnapped, but there’s a lot about the Reids and Ryker that the public will never know about. No one will ever know the real story of how Ryker and I met. To everyone else, he will just be the man who found me somewhere in the middle of nowhere near a country road. We told everyone that I had fled from the Cortesi headquarters and just ran out into the woods until I came across a street and waved down the first car I saw. Luckily, no one ever seemed to question that story, not even the police, even though the Cortesi tried to tell them what really happened. No one listened to them.
“Well, at least it’s over now,” I say, smoothing my dress one last time.
A honk from outside tells me Ryker’s car is waiting. My heart skips, knowing he’s planned something special for our six-month anniversary, but I don’t know what.
Tracey follows me to the door, giving me a quick hug before I go. “Have fun tonight!”
Smiling, I give her a wave and head downstairs, my pulse quickening when I spot Ryker’s limousine idling in front of my building. Enzo’s sitting in the driver’s seat, and when Ryker steps out to meet me, my heart does a little flip.
He looks absolutely dashing in a dark suit and his hair gelled to the side, and I’m grateful that I dressed up as well. He greets me with a kiss on the lips before he motions for me to get inside.
“Ready?” he asks, as I settle in, feeling both comfortable and electrified.
“I guess so. I don’t even know where we’re going,” I say.
“You look beautiful,” he says, ignoring my implied question, before he reaches for my hand.
“You still won’t tell me?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nope. You’ll have to wait and see.”
I narrow my eyes when I look at him, and he lets out an amused chuckle as he sinks into the soft leather seat.
Sometimes I still can’t believe the life I have now. It still feels like something out of a novel—the rescue from the Cortesi, the story we spun for the police, the daring plan that put the entire Cortesi operation behind bars.
In the end, it really was my kidnapping that took them down. Since Ryker and the Reid brothers couldn’t go anywhere near the cops, I was the only one who could bring the evidence forward. The story we fed the authorities was simple but effective: I’d been taken, held captive, and escaped with some conveniently damning documents in tow. I was a little surprised to see how easy it was to feed this story to the authorities. The police had been after the Cortesi for a while, just waiting for evidence to finally lock them down. And I gave them that evidence. That’s all that mattered to them. They’d been waiting for something to bring the Cortesi down for so long, they didn’t even question the way these incriminating documents found their way into their hands.
My broken hand probably helped to add a touch of authenticity to the story. I’ll never forget the tension in the air as I handed everything over to the police. It was all worth it—watching the headlines shift from my kidnapping to the arrests of yet another Mafia family.
I look outside and notice that we are leaving the city.
“Are we going to your place?” I ask, turning back to Ryker.
He casts me a playful smirk. “Who knows?”
“You do.”
“Yes, but I won’t tell you,” he says, clearly enjoying this. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Just trust me.”
Trust him. Those words are heavy with meaning for us. Trust is something we’re still establishing between us. Deep down inside of me, I knew I could trust him from the moment he risked his own life to save mine, when the Cortesi attacked us, but I still needed time — and so did he.
Now, as the lights of Boston fade and the dark countryside unfolds around us, I lean back in the seat, my hand in Ryker’s, feeling more secure than I ever thought possible. And with a man who I didn’t see coming. I thought it would give me closure to see him behind bars, and now I can no longer imagine wishing that for him. I could never hate him the way I swore to, and I was battling against my growing feelings for him, but now I no longer have to.
Now, I can finally be happy.