CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Hours later, I sat in the living room across from Detective Romano, the detective who was in charge of the investigation in my case against Seth.
He was an older gentleman, in his late forties, though you wouldn’t know it from his appearance.
Like most overworked public servants, he had permanent dark circles under his eyes, but his skin was wrinkle-free.
He had a thick head of salt and pepper hair that not everyone could pull off, but he somehow did.
And all that was packaged in a tall, well-muscled physique that reminded me of a swimmer’s build.
The detective had called an hour after Cassidy had arrived with a plethora of pregnancy tests.
And thanks to her efforts, three pregnancy tests later, I was now a hundred percent certain I was pregnant.
Declan actually cried when the test confirmed my pregnancy, and I, admittedly, did as well.
I needed to call my doctor and schedule an appointment with an OBGYN.
But all that took a backseat when Detective Romano called and informed me that it was imperative he speak to me today.
My anxiety had instantly spiked, but after Declan’s encouragement for me to take a shower, followed up by a cup of Cassidy’s herbal tea blend, I didn’t feel so anxious anymore. In fact, I felt calm and loose, like none of my problems could touch me.
I made a mental note to ask Cassidy if there was cannabis involved in her special herbal blend.
“Good day, Miss Hart,” Detective Romano started. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.”
“Of course. You made it seem so urgent. I couldn’t have refused even if I wanted to,” I told him honestly.
He smiled a little before it quickly turned into a grimace. “Yes, well, it was essential I spoke with you before the evening news.”
My face must have given away my confusion because the detective promptly held up a hand to forestall any expression of said confusion.
“Miss Hart, I regret to inform you that your ex-husband, Mr. Seth Torres, died this morning while in custody at the state prison.”
A gasp escaped me before I had a chance to stop it, but it was loud enough to have Declan rushing into the room with a concerned look on his face.
He’d settled on giving me privacy while I spoke with Detective Romano, but assured me he would be close by. And as the room seemed to tilt on its axis, I was very grateful for his proximity.
Declan slid in next to me on the couch and quickly slipped an arm around me to prop me up.
“What happened?” Declan growled, fixing the detective with a murderous look.
There was a ringing in my ear, so I didn’t hear the detective explaining to Declan what had happened.
“Shit,” Declan swore under his breath. “Melodie, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. Just keep breathing for me, okay?”
I was at the start of a panic attack, but Declan’s strong presence and the soothing timbre of his voice provided the sense of safety I needed in that moment.
“How did he die?” I managed to croak out, my breathing close to normal again.
The detective grimaced. “He was murdered.”
“Murdered?” Declan asked, his tone incredulous. “In prison? Under the correctional officers’ noses?”
“Yes,” the detective confirmed.
“How?” I asked.
Detective Romano sighed. “After his second attempt at escape—”
“Second?” Declan roared.
“Escape?” I balked.
The detective’s frown deepened. “Yes. A week after he was sentenced to fifteen years behind bars, he tried to escape through the kitchen's loading dock, and he was put in solitary confinement for a week. After that, he seemed to be adjusting to his new reality. Until his mother visited him and was promptly kicked out, and later banned for trying to help him plan a second escape. The mother was encouraging him to come after you to ‘put you back in your place’. Her exact words, by the way. She insisted that you, Miss Hart, should be the one in jail and not her son. Two days after the visit with his mother, Mr. Torres was taken to the infirmary for a broken arm. The report described it as a self-inflicted wound. He spent the night in the infirmary, supposedly on heavy pain meds that should have made him groggy. Long story short. He tried taking the nurse hostage to negotiate his way out. Of course, that didn't happen, and he was thrown back into solitary for another two weeks.” He paused and took a breath. “He was killed shortly after he was released back into the prison’s gen pop.”
I hadn’t realized I was crying until Declan started wiping away my tears.
Truthfully, I hated Seth.
I hated him for everything he put me through.
I hated who he’d become in the last stages of our relationship.
I hated how he lied and manipulated me into getting what he wanted, not to mention the emotional or mental toll it took on me.
I hated how he admitted to watching me suffer and doing nothing about it.
I hated him.
But, despite all of that, I never wanted him dead.
Seth and I had a long history. And while it wasn’t special in any way for me to go back to him, it was still enough to devastate me now that he was gone.
Declan pulled me closer to him and tucked my face into the crook of his neck while running his hand up and down my back in an attempt to soothe me.
“Do you know how he died?” Declan asked.
I could hear the frustration in the detective’s voice when he said, “The warden says it was a suicide. Mr. Torres was found hanging in his shared cell with his bedsheet as a makeshift noose. The prison is still investigating, but that’s all the information I have at the moment.
I told the warden I would look into it from my end, maybe see if he had any enemies on the outside who hated him enough to orchestrate his suicide inside the prison.
But the only thing that came up suspicious so far is the cellmate. ”
“How so?” Declan asked.
“According to my research and a few prison records, Mr. Torres was sharing a cell with a well-known member of the Irish mafia.”
I froze, and a chill ran down my spine.
Did he know about Declan’s past with the mob? And if so, was he going to try to pin this on Declan?
Slowly, and with my head still pressed into Declan’s neck, I turned my face to take in the detective’s expressions.
He looked bored, almost disinterested, but I could tell that wasn’t how he truly felt. He didn’t want to pin this on Declan. He was simply going where the evidence led.
“Oh?” Declan said.
“Yes. Of course, I did my research. And according to a few of my sources, I quickly found out that you left that life a long time ago. As a matter of fact, they refuse to even acknowledge your existence, despite you being a renowned billionaire. It’s like you’re dead to them.
Still, family is family, and apart from your sister, who also walked away from that life, your entire family is mobbed up, Mr. McKenna.
Are you sure you don’t have an uncle or cousin you still keep in contact with? Maybe call in a favor or two?”
“What the hell?” I blurted out. “You said you came here to talk to me, so why are you interrogating Declan?”
“Detective,” Declan chimed in calmly. “I’m sure your sources would have told you that once you walk away from mob life, if you’re even allowed to walk away, there is a no-contact order put in place.
I wouldn’t be able to get hold of my cousins and uncles, even if I tried.
If I did, both parties would be promptly executed. ”
I gasped.
Declan hadn’t told me that part.
His hand around me tightened, and I got the hint to wait until the detective left to ask any questions. Which was perfectly fine with me, because I needed him to be honest, and he couldn’t do that if the cop was still here.
“You’re right,” Detective Romano said, then sighed.
“I was just… grasping at straws. Clearly, I was mistaken. I was just hoping for something—anything, really. While I believe Mr. Torres deserved to rot in prison for what he did to your company and the abuse he dealt his ex-wife, I don’t believe he deserved to die.
But the prison is conducting its own investigation, so I suppose I'll know more when they know more. I can keep you updated if you want—”
“Please don’t,” I said abruptly.
The detective looked momentarily confused before quickly schooling his features. “I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” I discreetly stroke a hand down my flat belly, relishing the life inside.
“While I appreciate you coming here to deliver the news in person, Seth and I are—were divorced. He is quite literally no longer my problem. He wasn’t my problem the second those divorce papers were notarized, and if it hadn’t been for his assault and attempted kidnapping, I would have never spoken to him again.
I spent years in an unhappy, one-sided marriage, enduring a ton of emotional abuse and manipulation.
My divorce was so I could be free of all that.
And now that he has unfortunately died, I don’t think I should be burdened with the emotions of that.
He had his family, however twisted they are.
Let them bear the burden of that. And as long as they don’t try to come after me, I want nothing to do with the Torreses anymore. ”
Detective Romano smiled, albeit a sad one, then nodded his agreement. “You’re right. I think I may have overstepped with this one.” He stood and extended his hand for me to shake.
I stood and took the proffered hand.
“Thanks for taking the time to speak with me,” he added, then he turned and headed for the exit.
Declan and I walked with him to the private elevator, where he shook Declan’s hand and thanked us for our time once again.
He started for the elevator, then stopped and turned back to us. His gaze dropped briefly to my abdomen, then he flashed me a small smile and said, “Congratulations, by the way.”
At first, I thought he was talking about my pregnancy, and I was about to ask him how he knew this, when I noticed that his gaze lingered on the giant diamond on my finger, and a devastating realization slammed into me.
I groaned internally.
“Thanks,” I said softly, and watched as the elevator doors closed.
Then, fiddling with my ring, I turned to Declan, feeling a little sheepish and a lot awkward.
God, I could kick myself.
“So…” I started slowly. “I might have forgotten to give you an answer.”
His smile was so bright it melted away all my uncertainties.
“Yeah, I noticed that.” Then he dropped to one knee and took my left hand in his.
“I might just have to propose over and over again until I wear you down. So, Melodie Jasmine Hart, will you be my wife, the mother of my child, my best friend and life partner forever, mo chroí?”
“Yes!” I threw my head back and squealed, laughing through my response. “A thousand and ten times, yes!”
Then I threw myself into his arms and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, prolonging the moment with each pass of my lips over his; wishing I could freeze this moment in stasis so it would never wither or grow old.
I wanted to feel like this every day of my life for the rest of my life. And with my heart by my side, I had no doubts about what the future would bring.
I loved this man deeply. And I had no doubts he loved me, too. He’d already proven it a million times over.
So, unlike before, when I loved with reservation because I wasn’t sure where I stood in my partner’s life, I decided to love Declan with my whole heart, trusting him to take care of it.