Chapter Eighteen
Caity
Cian walked down the hall, leaving our crying daughter in my arms. I wasn’t even sure why she was crying. I knew she liked Sinclair; he was always sweet to her, but she had no idea what he was really like.
“Sweetheart, let’s go sit on the couch.”
I stood up and waited for Maddie. With a heavy sigh, she followed me over to the couch. When we sat down, she laid her head on my shoulder, and I closed my eyes.
Maybe she had forgiven me. Maybe I had my daughter back. I slipped my arm around her shoulders and asked, “Why are you crying, Maddie?”
She leaned up and looked at me. “Because all of this will never end. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”
“A part of what?”
“This,” she said, spreading her arms out. “This family, this organization.” She stood up and walked toward the windows again. I bit my lip, trying to stem the tears that formed from hearing my daughter tell me she didn’t want to be a part of our family.
I stayed quiet while I waited for her to speak. She turned to face me and leaned against the window.
“I’ve lost everything, Momma. My husband, my son. I am almost thirty years old. I have no job, no work experience to even get a job. I never finished college. I have nothing.”
“You have us.”
I turned on the couch at Cian’s voice. The hurt and pain on his face broke my heart. I understood what Maddie was saying. I understood more than she would ever know.
I turned back to my daughter. Shame spread across her face and she cried, “I know, and I’m so happy you’re my dad...” She looked down at the floor.
“But you need more,” I said. “You need a purpose.”
“She has a purpose,” Cian said angrily. “She’s our fuckin’ daughter.”
I stood up and walked to Cian. “You don’t understand because you’re a man. In this life, you are trained as a child to run the business. To be a soldier and work your way up. And you’ve done that. You’re part of Sal’s inner circle, and I’m so proud of you.”
Cian raised an eyebrow. “But?”
“But it’s different for us.” I sighed and looked over at Maddie as tears streamed down her face. I walked over and stood in front of her as I spoke to Cian.
“We are trained as children to be a wife and a mother. We are expected to get married right out of high school, to someone our fathers chose for us, and start having babies. More soldiers, more captains.”
I placed my hands on Maddie’s cheeks. “I am so sorry, baby. I should have done more. I should have stood up to my father. I should have stood up to my husband.”
“You did, Momma. You fought for me to go to college. You fought for me to transfer without knowing why.”
“It wasn’t enough.” I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Taking a deep breath, I took my daughter’s hand. “Come sit down,” I said as I pulled her back over to the couch. “I want you to tell me all about my son-in-law.”
Maddie gave me a watery smile and looked over at Cian. He returned a tight smile of his own, but he joined us by sitting in the chair across from where Maddie and I sat.
For the next few hours, Maddie told us about how she met Salvatore Valentinetti. How they fell in love and kept their relationship a secret not only from us but from his family as well.
I knew Illyria. I’d met her on many occasions. Sometimes with her mother, Nicoletta, when they came to New York when she was a child. But more so after she married Maxim Fedorov and moved to Manhattan permanently.
We’d attended the same fundraisers; chaired some of the same charities. She was only a few years older than Maddie. But after everything she’d been through herself, being the daughter of a Mafia Don and the wife of the Russian Pakhan, I understood Illyria more than most.
I didn’t love that she was raising my grandson, but I knew he was safe until we found a way to bring him home.
When Maddie told us about Henry, I couldn’t hold back the tears. The way she spoke about her son made me realize just how incredibly strong and selfless my daughter was.
She’d walked away from the love of her life, from her child. To keep them safe. To be sure he would grow up in a world that wouldn’t harm him.
And when she told us who helped her—the man who had made everything possible, keeping her marriage and son a secret from everyone—I realized why she’d been so upset.
Looking at my daughter and the pain she was in, I made a decision. One that would probably piss off everyone I knew. But I owed him. The man who helped my daughter.
Sal wouldn’t understand. He might be a father who would do anything to protect his children, but he wasn’t a mother.
Mothers were different. We endured more shit than we should, and we did it with a smile. All for our children. They would never know the sacrifices we made for them until they became parents themselves one day.
It was time to make another sacrifice for my daughter. One that might—no, would send ripples through the underworld. I just hoped what I was about to do wouldn’t become an international incident.
I woke up in Cian’s bed, alone. Maddie had stayed for most of the day, sharing videos and pictures of Henry as he grew up. Salvatore Valentinetti loved my daughter enough to let her go.
I knew firsthand what a love like that cost. It broke you in a way that could never be mended. It was the greatest sacrifice. Giving up your own happiness for someone else.
There is no greater love than the love of a man willing to lay down his life for his friends.
For his wife.
For his sister.
For his child.
I met Salvatore Valentinetti once, at Nolan’s office.
I didn’t know why he was there. I never asked about business.
Nolan wouldn’t have told me anything. But I did question, if only in my own head, why the brother of the Italian Mafia Don in Chicago would be talking to the head of the Irish Mob in New York.
I never gave it any thought after that day. Now I wish I’d paid more attention. I wish I’d asked questions. All I remembered about Salvatore was how handsome he was and how polite he was. He was a true gentleman, standing up when I entered the office and not sitting down until I was on my way out.
Nolan never gave me that respect.
I climbed out of bed and quickly showered, expecting to find Cian in the kitchen. Instead, all I found was a note asking me not to leave the apartment.
I looked around the space, knowing there were cameras. Wondering if he was watching me. It didn’t matter. I was a grown woman, and if I wanted to leave, I damn well would.
I grabbed my purse with the files I’d kept secret and walked to the elevator. I stared at the keypad, wondering how I was going to figure out the code, when it occurred to me. I smiled and shook my head. He couldn’t be that stupid.
I typed in my birthday, and the pad beeped as the light blinked red.
I tried Maddie’s birthday and got the same result.
I glared at the box on the wall and thought about Cian.
What would he use that no one would think to try?
I smiled again as my heart soared. I typed in the numbers, and the light turned green, opening the elevator doors.
I stepped inside and hit the button for the ground floor. As the car moved slowly down, I thought about that night. The night we first made love.
There was always a negative voice inside my head that tried to tell me it meant more to me than it did to him. But knowing he used that date—the night Maddie was conceived—told me he thought about it every day, the same as me.
I stepped into the lobby and walked out the front door. I didn’t see anybody following me, but then that was their job. Not to be seen.
I couldn’t go directly to his office; I needed to lose whoever was watching me. I knew someone was. Someone always was.
I walked downtown and made my way to Quincy Market. It didn’t matter the time of year, or even the weather, Quincy Market was always filled with people. Tourists and locals.
Now that summer was right around the corner, there would be so many people there, making it easy to get lost in the crowd.
I smiled as I stepped into one of the shops.
When I stepped back out, I felt eyes watching me.
For the next few hours, I dipped in and out of shops until I was sure whoever had been sent to follow me was no longer an issue.
Then, I made my way to Sinclair’s office.
“May I help you?” The receptionist was young and pretty, and I held back my eye roll. It was such a cliché, and yet, for some reason, I’d expected more from him.
“I am here to see Mr. Sinclair.”
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Please tell him Caitlin O’Malley is here.”
“I’m sorry, without an app—” Her words were cut off by the ringing of her telephone. I smiled arrogantly as she lifted the receiver to her ear.
“Yes, sir. Right away.” The woman set the phone down and stood, giving me a sneer. “Please follow me.”
The click of her heels on the floor was the only sound as she led me down the hallway to Sinclair’s office. She opened the door, holding it open as I walked through.
“That will be all, Sarah.”
I smiled over my shoulder at Sarah as she closed the door.
“What can I do for you, Miss O’Malley?”
“I am here because of what I can do for you.” Sinclair raised an eyebrow, a look of doubt marring his brow. “I spoke with Maddie yesterday. She told her father and me everything.”
Sinclair didn’t respond. I hadn’t expected him to. He leaned back in his chair and waited for me to continue. I opened my purse and pulled out the packet of papers I’d hidden inside the lining.
Stepping forward, I placed them on his desk. His eyes never left mine as I stepped back.
“I can never thank you enough for what you did for my daughter. This seemed the only way to come close.”
“Does your brother know you are here?”
“No one knows I’m here except your receptionist,” I said, letting him know I didn’t trust the woman out front.
Sinclair leaned forward and picked up the stack of papers. He flipped through them, his expression never changing. “Is this everything?”
“Everything that involves you and your family.”
Sinclair continued looking through the information. “Am I to assume you’ve read these?”
“I have.”
“And do I have your assurance that the information on these pages will stay with you and you alone?” He glanced up at me with a look of animosity and expectation. He wasn’t asking me to keep his secrets. He was demanding it.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew how the game was played. I’d been playing it for years longer than he had.
“This was a thank you for what you did for my daughter and my grandson. But make no mistake, Sinclair. If the information I gave you were needed to protect my family, I wouldn’t hesitate to use it.”
He stared at me as if he were gauging my intent. Studying my composure, looking for a weakness. My weakness was my daughter and grandson, but it was also my greatest strength. Because, like any other mama bear, I would do whatever I had to, including giving up my own life, to protect my cubs.