33. Kate
Kate
Christmas morning felt hollow. The fire crackled in the fireplace, Gertie hummed carols in the kitchen, and Amber lay curled up by the tree, her tail thumping lazily every now and then.
The gift-wrapped box Michael was supposed to open sat untouched beneath the tree—its twin, the one I sent to him, had been returned to sender.
The deed was inside.
Shredded.
The envelope torn open, the documents ripped to pieces like an afterthought. No note. No explanation. Just brutal finality. I picked it up, stood over it at the kitchen counter, fingers trembling as I touched the torn edges.
It wasn’t just the land.
It was the message: I don’t want your freedom. I don’t want you.
My throat ached from trying not to cry. Gertie didn’t push. Claire arrived not long after, her arms full of bakery boxes and wine. The girls came too. Mindy. Even Sara, whose work rarely let her leave the city.
"We're not letting you sulk alone in some coastal hideaway," Claire had said over the phone. "You're our girl. It's Christmas."
And we made the most of it.
We drank spiced wine, played poker, and watched holiday movies wrapped in cozy blankets. The tree was small but perfect, strung with seashell garland and driftwood ornaments I found at a local shop. We ate too many cookies and burned the ham, but we laughed until our stomachs hurt.
Almost like old times.
Almost.
Until a sleek black Escalade pulled up outside.
My heart stopped.
I pushed up from the couch, my hands damp, my half-finished glass of wine forgotten. My chest pounded as the rear door opened. The Escalade had tinted windows and black rims, and men wearing earpieces stepped out into the cold.
Michael.
I swore my soul recognized him before anyone emerged?—
But it wasn’t him.
Claire went to the front door with a knowing look while the rest of us peered through the curtains. Remi stepped out first, silver-haired and sharply dressed despite the holiday. He wasn’t alone.
The second man was tall and solid, with dark-gold hair cut close and amber eyes the color of aged whiskey. A scar crossed one cheekbone, adding to the quiet menace he carried as naturally as his black overcoat. Something instinctive tightened inside me even as distrust put every nerve on alert.
Claire grabbed her scarf and went outside to greet both men in the street. She kissed Remi’s cheek, spoke briefly to his companion, and then led them up the path to my front door.
I opened it before they could knock and stared at her. “Why are there two mobsters on my doorstep on Christmas day?”
“Because you need to go with them,” Claire said.
“That explanation answered absolutely nothing.”
The other man stepped forward. “Get your coat. You’re coming with me.”
I crossed my arms. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t blink. “Car. Now.”
“I don’t even know who you are.”
“Drew Guerrero. Remi’s nephew.”
“And being related to him gives you the authority to order me into a car?”
“No. The threat against your life does.”
I looked at Claire. “You knew about this?”
Her mouth tightened. She gave me a small, grim nod before slipping her arm through Remi’s.
“Go with him, Kate,” she said. “You need to hear what he knows.”
“Krystal and her uncle put a quiet hit out on you,” Drew said. “You’re in the way.”
My breath caught. “That’s insane. Michael would never?—”
“He doesn’t know. But even if he did, he can’t stop it. Not without tipping his hand. You’re still his weakness, and they know it. If he tries to protect you, it confirms everything they fear. And they won’t just threaten next time. They'll eliminate."
My mind reeled. "He doesn’t love her. He never will."
“Krystal’s delusional. And dangerous. We can protect you. He can’t.”
I slid my coat from the hook and stepped into the cold, my heart pounding as I followed Drew toward the Escalade.
Heat flowed through the vents as the vehicle glided along Newport’s snowy streets.
The windows fogged faintly with each breath.
I hadn’t expected the ride to feel like a scene from an old noir film—supple leather seats, soft jazz playing low, and the scent of cedar and pine clinging to Drew’s coat beneath the faint trace of his cologne.
“You’re a rare bird, you know,” he said, his eyes flicking toward me with something bordering on admiration.
I snorted softly. "Whatever that means."
His grin was lopsided. Easy. Confident. Like someone used to owning the room without having to raise his voice.
"Means you don’t show your cards, but I know a queen when I see one."
I shook my head. "If this is how you flirt, you’re rusty."
He laughed. "Fair. But I’m not just here to flirt. Now that you’ve been unmasked, we can do business together."
That made me turn. Brow arched. "Excuse me?"
"Don’t play dumb, Kate. North Star Holdings? You came for blood—and you won the round. But it’s not over."
He took a right, heading toward the cliffs. The view stretched out before us, the gray sea meeting the horizon in a curtain of cold mist.
"The councilman, Krystal’s uncle—and Michael’s crew—they’re already working to ruin your dream. You think they’re just going to lie down and let you turn that campus into your personal symphony hall?"
I didn’t answer. Because I already felt it. The shift. The silence in city hall. The new zoning barriers and stalling tactics.
Drew kept going, voice low but sure.
"They’ve started bribing everyone. Jobs for spouses. Fast tracks for their kids into Ivy Leagues. It’s dirty pool, Kate. On steroids. And without us in your corner, they’ll bury you. Gridlock you for fifty years."
He glanced at me. "You know how easy it is to find some endangered bird nesting in a tree no one cared about until last week? Brett already mailed a handcrafted photo to the state wildlife board. He’s a bastard—but effective.
And Michael’s Uncle, Romano? He’ll pay protestors.
Picketers. Bloggers. He’ll make you look like the villain who wants to turn an ecological haven into a money pit. "
I said nothing. My throat was tight.
"He’ll drown your reputation in litigation. Lawsuits, injunctions, audits... anything to make you bleed. You broke his heart, Kate. And you betrayed a made man. He’s not wired for forgiveness. He won’t put a bullet in your head just your heart..metaphorically speaking of course.”
The silence stretched.
"His revenge won’t be loud—it’ll be methodical. And worst of all, he will marry Krystal. Not for love. Not even for power. Just to prove a point—that he chooses loyalty over love. That hurting you is the price of maintaining his empire."
My hands fisted in my lap. Tears stung the back of my eyes.
Drew didn’t press. He just drove. And for once, I didn’t fight the quiet.
Because everything he said was true.
And I didn’t know how to fix it.
“What would you do if you were me?” I asked quietly, my voice like cracked porcelain in the cold silence of the car. “I don’t understand the web. The power plays. The rules of the mob... I was never built for this.”
Drew didn’t answer.
Instead, he pulled over onto a quiet overlook, snow dusting the tree limbs like powdered sugar, the icy coastline shimmering in the distance. He put the car in park, hands still on the wheel. I could feel his stare before I even turned.
When I did, it was like slamming into a wall of heat in the middle of winter.
His eyes burned like golden whiskey—sharp, heated, and intoxicating. They swept over me, slow and deliberate, landing on my hair, my lips, the soft curve of my shoulder wrapped in faux fur. The hunger in them was clear.
“No,” I said quickly, raising a palm. “Don’t look at me like that.”
He tilted his head slightly. “Like what?”
“Like you want to unwrap me like some kind of dangerous Christmas present.”
He smirked. “Maybe you are.”
“I’m off the shelf,” I added. “Not dating. Not hoping. Not even pretending.”
Drew leaned in just enough to brush a loose tendril of my hair off my cheek. His knuckles grazed my skin, setting off a heat I didn't want. “While he weds and beds another?” His voice was low, silken. “You’ll stay a nun? For him?”
“Don’t,” I whispered. But he didn’t stop.
“You think Michael’s going to stay faithful in a marriage arranged by men who slit throats before breakfast? You think he won’t bend eventually, won’t break?” His voice turned rough. “He’ll love you forever, Kate. But he’ll still do what they tell him. And if they tell him to forget you?—”
“I’ll never forget him,” I interrupted. “Even if I ever recover from loving him, it’ll never be you. You’re his rival.”
“Not anymore,” Drew said coolly. “You’re the battlefield now.”
That hit like a slap. “I’m not a pawn.”
“No,” he agreed. “You’re a queen. But even queens bleed in war.”
I looked at him then—really looked at him. Drew had that same dangerous masculinity Michael carried. That quiet dominance that knew its own weight. I hated how my heart fluttered. I hated that I felt anything at all.
“I can’t,” I said finally, shaking my head. “Even if Michael never touches me again... my soul is still his.”
A long beat passed between us.
“You know,” he said softly, almost regretful, “it’d be quite the win... taking the one woman Michael Waters truly loved.”
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t want love to be a war.”
He turned back to the wheel, engine still idling.
“Too late, Kate,” Drew said. “It already is.”
The silence thickened as Drew pulled away from the overlook. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against his thigh in a restless rhythm.
“You need to leave Newport,” he said quietly.
I turned toward him. “What?”
“By New Year’s. Sooner, if you can. You’ll need to go underground again, but this time you’ll have help.” He glanced at me. “My help.”
I didn’t know what startled me more—that I needed protection or that Michael’s rival was offering it.
“Claire is dating your uncle,” I said flatly.
“And?”
“And now Michael’s rival family is suddenly friendly? Cozy, even?” A hollow laugh escaped me. “What the hell is this world?”
“Claire plays her own game. You know that.” A slight smirk touched his mouth. “And Michael’s guards are mostly for show now. They protect Krystal because they have to, not because they want to.”
“So I’m just…what? Collateral?”
“You’re a vulnerability. That makes you a target. The councilman thinks Michael might try to take Krystal off the board. A staged kidnapping would be the cleanest response. Taking you gives them leverage and sends a message.”
I swallowed, refusing to picture it.
“Keep your dog close,” Drew added. “Hurting a pet is the fastest way people like them know to make a threat personal.”
Bile rose in my throat. I turned toward the passing coastline, blinking against the sting in my eyes.
“I hate this,” I whispered. “Maybe it’s for the best. I could never be part of this life.”
“You should’ve thought of that before falling in love with a mob king.”
My breath caught. “It was only supposed to be one night.”
His inhale was sharp. “I’ll take one of those.”
I looked at him sideways. “Why haven’t I seen you before? Heard of you? You’re not exactly forgettable, Drew.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but I caught the dangerous gleam in them.
“Territory, sweetheart. The south side of the bay all the way into New York City belongs to Michael. His casinos, his rules. My family’s reach begins north of the harbor.
Newport through Boston? That’s mine. You came here for the holidays and crossed into my territory. ”
“So the guards?—”
“Michael’s men?” His jaw tightened. “He posted them here to watch you and Gertie, but I removed them. They aren’t permitted here. You’re on my land now. My streets. My rules.”
He reached across the console and trailed his fingers along my cheek. “You came onto my turf, babe. That means you have a new man protecting you.”
I pulled away from his touch. “You’re not him.”
“No.” His voice remained low and certain. “But I’m here. And you’re young. I’ll wait for your heart to stop bleeding.”
I faced the window again. “I met him first.”
His chuckle held more promise than humor. “If you’d met me first, none of this would’ve happened.”
The Escalade turned onto my street and stopped outside the cozy white rental. The wreath Gertie and I had chosen only days earlier now looked like a flimsy attempt to pretend everything was normal.
I reached for the door handle.
“Kate.”
I paused.
“Don’t wait for him to save you. Michael would burn the world for you, but he might burn you down with it.” Drew held my gaze. “Let me help.”
I stepped into the snow and closed the door behind me. He followed a moment later.
Inside, Christmas got... weird.
Claire was on the couch canoodling with Remi—Drew’sand making plans to attend a gala with him in New York City. Gertie sang carols while basting a rosemary turkey. Amber trotted into the room with a candy cane in her mouth. The tree sparkled. The fire crackled.
The rival mob was now... giving gifts?
A basket from Redwood River had arrived—truffles, a rare bourbon, and a note addressed to me. “To new alliances.”
I stood in the middle of the living room, numb. Trying to ignore the fact that another sexy alpha mob boss had me in his sights.
Enemies. Allies. Lovers. Liars.
And me?
Somewhere in the middle, trying not to shatter under the weight of love, betrayal, and a world I never meant to belong to.