Chapter 29
Shane
"The Velvet Mirage," I say aloud, the name lingering in my thoughts. I'd heard of it—a notorious gangster joint on the lower side of town. But thinking back, I can't recall Nicole ever mentioning it. "Naw, doesn't ring a bell."
"You're sure?" Mike asks, the hinges of his desk chair creaking as he leans back, studying my reaction.
"Yeah," I respond, my voice tense with frustration. "I'm sure she's never talked about it. What's this about?"
"Just a lead we're following up on. Nothing for you to worry about," Mike says, his tone dismissive, but I can tell there's more to it.
"So what is it? Is that where he's keeping Nicole?"
"No, Shane. And even if it was, I couldn't tell you. You don't need me to remind you how an active investigation works, do you?"
I sigh heavily, the exhaustion of weeks of dead ends wearing me down. "Please don't."
"Just be patient. We're getting close," Mike says, but it feels hollow, like every other vague assurance I've heard.
My eyes narrow. "That's it? You drag me down here, ask me about some random nightclub, and give me nothing?"
Mike crosses his arms, unfazed. "You know we can't talk about this over the phone. Not with what's at stake. And there's nothing to give, Shane."
I stand up, frustration surging through me. "Fine. If you can't tell me anything, I'll figure it out myself." I head toward the door, the thought of doing nothing gnawing at me. "Maybe I'll stop by this Velvet Mirage myself and ask a few questions."
"Shane!" Mike's voice snaps with authority. "Sit down."
I ignore him, my hand already on the doorknob. I'm ready to act, to do something—anything.
"Shane, I will have you arrested before you leave this building," he says, his tone deadly serious.
I spin around, glaring at him. "On what charge?"
"Interfering with an active investigation," he states firmly, the threat hanging between us. I can see it in his eyes—he means it. There's something about that place. Something he's not telling me.
I drop my hand from the knob and sit back down. "What do you expect me to do? You tell me you can't help Nicole because she might be involved in something, but then you bring me here and leave me in the dark. I seem to be the only one who actually gives a damn about her. What do you expect from me, Mike? You want to arrest me? Fine. But you know I've got some of the best lawyers in the city. How long do you really think you can keep me here?"
Mike leans forward, eyes narrowing, his voice low. "Just long enough to make an arrest." I make a mental note of that; whatever is happening is going down soon.
I scoff. "You don't even know where she is. Hell, you're the one asking me for information. You're fumbling in the dark, and maybe Nicole's just not a priority for you. You want your big bust, your crime lords, whatever. But I want Nicole safe, and if you don't help me, I've got a fortune in the bank that will. If these guys want money, fine. I just want Nicole back."
Mike's jaw clenches, and for a moment, the room is thick with tension. Neither of us speaks, but I see him weighing his options, torn between his duty and our friendship.
"Listen, Shane," he says, his voice hard but steady. "These guys don't mess around. If you go waving your money in their faces, they'll bleed you dry or put you in a box."
He takes a deep breath, and I try to do the same. Both of us recognize the stubbornness in the other, but neither of us is willing to back down.
"We're friends," Mike continues, his tone calmer now, trying to reach me. "So I'm telling you this because I hope you'll use that smart brain of yours and see reason. This shit that Nicole's wrapped up in, it's major. You don't want to get yourself any deeper than you already are."
"Then tell me what's really going on," I press, leaning forward, desperate for answers.
"This is confidential," he says, his voice lowering. "We think Raffaele is planning to make a move on the leader of the local syndicate."
"Le Ombre?" I ask, the name sending a chill through me.
"Yeah," Mike confirms. "We're still trying to locate where the hit might go down, and the Velvet Mirage is one of the places our leads keep pointing to."
"What does Nicole have to do with all this?" I ask, the question gnawing at me.
"We don't know yet," he admits. "But it's suspicious as hell that, given her connections, she ups and disappears right when all of this is about to go down."
"So, what, you think she's involved?" My voice rises with frustration.
"We don't know," Mike says carefully. "But whether she's a distraction or something more, until she proves otherwise, she's on their side in our eyes. We have plans to make a clean arrest and minimize casualties, but your involvement and raising suspicion could jeopardize everything."
"I want to be there when you make the arrest," I insist, my voice tight with determination. "If she sees me, maybe she'll know she's safe, that we're there to help—"
"Absolutely not," Mike cuts me off sharply. "If she contacts you at any point before we move in, you call me immediately. Don't do anything stupid, Shane."
"Okay," I submit. "I'll stay out of the way."
I can tell from the look on his face that he doesn't believe I'll keep my word. He's a good detective, after all.
"Jaime's still under our protection, if you want it, until this blows over," Mike adds. "And so are you. My suggestion? Go be with your family. I'll call you the minute we have something concrete."
"Thanks, Mike," I mutter, standing up to leave. But my mind is spinning as I walk out of his office, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders like a lead blanket. Assassinations. Nicole mixed up with these monsters. It feels like my entire life has spiraled into chaos.
I let out a deep breath once I'm back in my car, pulling out my phone to text Marie:
On my way.
My father's stepmother has always been different from the rest of the family she married into. Marie had been one of the few reliable figures for me and Claire growing up—a kind soul, a grounding presence. The last time I saw her was at Claire's funeral, where she'd expressed doubt about me raising Jaime. She'd admitted, though, that her constant traveling wouldn't be the best for a child Jaime's age. She returned from Montenegro about a week ago, wanting to spend time with him. I agreed. Getting Jaime out of town for a while seemed like the safest option, especially given the circumstances, and I trust her completely. Our new nanny, Allison, went with them. Gladys, understandably, needed some distance from the chaos.
The hotel I booked for them is a few hours outside the city—Mike's suggestion. High tourism, low crime. Knowing I can afford to keep them safe and comfortable gives me peace of mind. Still, as I drive the three hours to the hotel, I can't shake the haunting thoughts about all the people who can't escape danger, who don't have the means to protect their loved ones.
When I finally pull up to the grand hotel, its elegance washes over me. The place looks like something out of a dream, with its fine furniture, soft lighting, and a live pianist playing in the lobby. The air smells of expensive perfume and polished wood, a far cry from the tension choking me back in the city. I take a deep breath and head up to the 12th floor.
As I enter the room, I find Jaime and Marie sitting on the couch, watching cartoons. Both their heads turn as I walk in, and Jaime immediately leaps up and rushes over to hug me.
"Hey, buddy! I missed you," I say, scooping him up. "You being good for Grandma Marie and Allison?"
Marie smiles warmly, watching us. "Hi, grandson," she says.
"Hey, Marie," I reply, setting Jaime down. "Where's Allison?"
"She's getting Jaime's bath ready," Marie responds with a nod toward the bathroom.
Jaime tugs at my sleeve, motioning me to lean closer. "I gotta tell you a secret," he whispers. I lean down, and he cups his hands around my ear. "I don't like Allison. I want Nicole back."
My heart clenches at his words, but I manage a soft smile. "I'm sure she misses you too, buddy."
Allison's voice floats in from the bathroom. "Jaime, it's bath time!"
I glance toward the bathroom. "Hey, Allison!" I call out.
She steps briefly into view, giving me a cheerful smile. "Oh, hi, Mr. Matthews! How's everything?"
"Great, Allison, thanks for being here," I reply, keeping my tone light.
"No problem! This place is wonderful, and I've been having the best time with Jaime and Marie. By the way, is there a little boy out here who needs a bath?" she teases, raising an eyebrow.
I give Jaime a playful look. "Yeah, he's going," I say.
Jaime huffs dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Okay, okay," he grumbles, clearly not thrilled, but he gets up and trudges toward the bathroom.
"Thanks," Allison says, retreating back into the bathroom as Jaime drags his feet toward her, looking like he's heading to his doom.
I chuckle softly. "Go on," I say gently.
Jaime sighs one last time before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving me and Marie alone.
Marie pats the spot on the couch beside her. "Come sit with me."
I do as she asks, sinking into the plush cushions beside her. She studies me for a moment, her gaze filled with the kind of wisdom that only comes with age. "How are you really?" she asks.
I hesitate; my first instinct is to deflect. "Uhh… I'm fine."
"No, you're not," she says softly but firmly. The silence between us stretches for a moment as I try to figure out how much to say. I can't tell her the truth—she'd worry too much. But I can't lie, either.
"Is it about Nicole? Jaime keeps talking about her."
I pause, feeling the weight of her question. "Yeah… she left. It's been rough on both of us."
Marie nods sympathetically. "That's too bad. The way Jaime talks about her, she seems like she made a good impression on you two."
"She did," I admit, memories of Nicole flashing through my mind—the way she smiled, the way she cared for Jaime, the way she made everything feel just a little bit better.
Marie watches me carefully. "Too bad. You know better than anyone we could use some positive additions to the family." She pauses, then asks gently, "Is she gone for good?"
"I don't know," I say honestly, my voice low. "There's a small chance she might come back, but it's complicated. She's gotten herself into a bit of a mess."
Marie raises an eyebrow, her eyes sharp with concern. "Well, you did everything you could, right? I mean, you wouldn't be sitting here, wasting time talking to me, if the love of your life was out there and you knew you could get her back, would you?"
I don't say anything, but her words hit me hard. She's right. I sit there for a moment, her genuine smile comforting, yet pushing me to face the truth.
"Okay," I mutter to myself and to her, nodding as if to reaffirm the decision already forming in my mind. "Yeah. I'll bring her back."