Olivia
I open my door to find Dominic Vitale standing in the hallway. My heart does that stupid little flip it always does when I see him unexpectedly.
Thanksgiving alone with a turkey and cranberry sauce sandwich and case files suddenly feels even more pathetic.
"Agent Ricci." His voice lacks its usual playful edge.
I straighten my posture, gripping the door handle tighter. "Twice in one month? People will talk."
No smile cracks his serious expression. The absence of his usual charm is jarring.
"What have you found out about Rocco's kidnapping?" He steps forward without waiting for an invitation, forcing me to back up or collide with his chest.
I close the door, crossing my arms over my FBI Academy sweatshirt. “I don’t report to you.”
“You wouldn’t have anything if I hadn’t pushed you. You’re also looking into Mrs. Ferraza. You've been busy for someone who told me she doesn't handle kidnappings or murders.”
“Shouldn’t you be with family?” Why is he here?
“Shouldn’t you?” He glances around my place as if he’s only just realizing I could have company. But of course I don’t.
My only family, my father, is dead.
Quite possibly because of someone in Dom’s family. I don’t want to think too much about the betrayal to my father it is that I’ve had sex with a member of the Vitale family.
“Tell me, Olivia.” The way he says my name still affects me. I hate that.
"And I'm not discussing an ongoing investigation with you."
"It wasn't an investigation until two weeks ago." He moves closer, his scent hitting me and taking me back two weeks when he did the most delicious things to my body. "What changed, Olivia?"
I hesitate. My apartment feels too small. This conversation too dangerous to have with him.
“You did.”
“Then tell me—”
I hold my hand up to stop his advance. His nearness fogs my brain and I can’t have that. “I can’t.”
He shakes his head. "You're swimming in deeper, darker waters now."
"I know how to swim."
"Not in this pool." His hand reaches toward my face but stops, hovering in the space between us. "These people play by different rules."
"Which people, Dom? Your people?"
His jaw clenches. "Don't fuck with me, Olivia. You wouldn't be digging into this if I hadn't put the idea in your head. I deserve to know—”
“No you don’t.” I step back, needing distance between us. "I can't discuss this with you."
"Can't or won't?" His voice drops, dangerous and low as his gaze takes a leering inventory of my body. "Because last I checked, you had no problem sharing other things with me."
Heat rushes to my face. "Clearly, that was a mistake."
"Was it?" Dom steps closer, eliminating the space I'd created.
I meet his gaze, refusing to be intimidated by him. "I won't compromise my investigation by discussing it with a person of interest."
"Person of interest?" His laugh is sharp. "That's what I am now? After everything?"
"What did you expect, Dom? That I'd forget who you are? What you do?"
His eyes flash. "And what exactly is it that I do, Agent Ricci? You've been watching me for four years and still have nothing."
"Because you're careful, not because you're innocent."
"Or maybe because you only see what you want to see." He leans in, his breath warm against my cheek. "You need monsters, don't you? It makes your job simpler. It makes the world make sense."
I clench my fists at my sides. "Don't psychoanalyze me."
"Then stop pretending you know me or my family." His voice hardens. "You're so loyal to the badge that you'll ignore evidence there are those among you who are corrupt."
"I'm not ignoring anything—"
“And if you think I kidnapped Rocco then you’re the worst FBI agent in the history of the bureau.”
I let out a sigh. “I don’t think you kidnapped Rocco. As far as the investigation, I don't have all the answers yet."
"But you have some." Dom's eyes bore into mine. "You're withholding information from a family that deserves to know who targeted their child. How does that make you any better than me?"
The accusation hangs between us, impossible to deflect. Because deep down, I'm starting to wonder the same thing.
“Did Elena talk to you or are you following me?”
Dom's expression shifts, just slightly. "You're investigating my family's business. Did you think I wouldn't keep tabs?"
"You talk about family loyalty like it's sacred, but you're using what happened to Rocco and Mrs. Ferraza to manipulate me."
"Manipulate you?" His eyebrows shoot up. "I mentioned those cases because they matter. Because they could be connected."
"Connected to what? If you care about justice for them, tell me what you know."
He shakes his head. “No. I told you what I know. Now it’s your turn. Rocco is my family—”
“If I have information for the family, I’ll talk to Rocco’s parents, not you.”
“Elena and Rocco are Vitales. My family.” He thumps his fist against his chest.
“Elena and Rocco are Monti’s now.”
His jaw goes so tight, his eyes so narrow, for the first time I’m afraid of him. Of what he might do. I take a step back and find myself against the wall.
“You’re fucking cruel, Olivia, you know that?” He turns, walking away as he runs his fingers through his hair. I give him the space he seems to need.
Finally, he turns back. "You're looking for corruption, for connections. Maybe start with why, out of all the agents in New York, you were the one called about Rocco."
"What are you saying?"
“You said yourself you’re not part of the team that deals with kidnappings. So why did you get the call? Who made the call? I'm saying maybe we're both pawns in someone else's game."
“That may be, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t talk to you.”
He crosses his arms studying me. I do my best not to shift under his scrutiny.
“You said Rocco and Mrs. Ferraza aren’t cases you’d work. Now after I push you, you’re asking questions.”
I don’t respond.
“Does your boss know what you’re doing?”
No. My boss doesn't know I'm digging into Rocco's kidnapping or the Ferraza murder.
I've been working nights, weekends, using personal resources.
The file of the redacted informant seems to have gone missing, another piece that makes me nervous that someone I work with is going outside the law.
"That's irrelevant."
"It's everything." Dom moves closer. "If you're off the books, you're vulnerable. No backup, no protection."
"I don't need protection."
"Everyone needs protection in this game." His hand settles against the wall beside my head, caging me in.
I refuse to be afraid. "Unlike you, I operate within the law."
He smirks. "But the people you’re looking for don’t—”
“Is that a confession, Don Vitale?” I say with more bravado than I feel.
“You’re safer with me than a dirty cop, Olivia.”
I suspect he’s partly right. I'm treading dangerous ground, but I can't back down now.
"Then I'll handle it," I say, meeting his gaze.
Dom moves closer, his body radiating heat. His eyes darken as he studies my face. "You know what's interesting about all this?" His finger caresses down my cheek. "How quickly you went from coming when I fucked you treating me like I'm nothing but a case file."
I’m shocked at his vulgarity, although I don’t know why.
“Are you punishing me for making you feel good? Because if I remember correctly, you were begging for my cock.”
I roll my eyes. "Really? That's your play?" I step sideways to escape his proximity. "Crude adolescent comments? I expected better from you."
"And I expected better from you." Dom's voice rises, frustration cracking his usual control. "Why are you being so fucking cold? One minute we're connecting and the next you're this ice queen who can't even look me in the eye."
His accusation strikes a nerve, and I turn away.
I wonder if that’s what this visit is really about. Him punishing me for being cold. Professional to the point of robotic.
"What do you want from me, Dom?" All of a sudden I’m tired. I don’t want to keep fighting with him. "To admit I enjoyed sleeping with you? Fine. I did. To say I think about it? I do. Is that what you need to hear?"
“It’s a start because you’ve been fucking haunting me.”
I’d be a liar if I said hearing those words, the frustration behind them, didn’t make the woman in me feel good. But there’s no point in going down that path again.
"My career, my integrity—"
"Your precious rules," he cuts in.
"Yes, my rules." I meet his eyes, letting him see my frustration. "They matter to me. They're what separate me from—"
"From people like me?" His jaw tightens. "Is that what you were going to say?"
I don't answer, but my silence is confirmation enough.
"You know what I think?" Dom's voice softens. "I think you're scared. Not of losing your job or breaking rules. You're scared of admitting that maybe the line between us isn't as clear as you need it to be."
He’s not wrong. All these feelings I have around him terrify me. Everything I thought I knew about good and evil, right and wrong, might be more complicated.
"You don't know me,” I say, hating how defensive I sound.
"Don't I?" Dom looks at me in a way that feels like he can see into my soul. "Your pupils are dilated. You keep glancing at my mouth. And every time I move closer—" He takes another step toward me "—you hold your breath."
Damn him for being right. I exhale slowly, deliberately. "Don't flatter yourself."
His laugh is low, rumbling. “You can lie to yourself, but not to me.” His fingers brush my arm, sending sparks of electricity through me. "Tell me you don't think about that night. Tell me you don't remember how it felt when I—"
"Stop." I close my eyes, needing to make this stop before I end up begging him to touch me again. "This isn't why you came here."
"Maybe it's exactly why I came. Maybe I'm tired of pretending I don't want you." His confession strips away my defenses.
"Dom...there is no future in this."
“Is that what you want? You’re looking for a picket fence, with 2.4 kids and a dog?”
“No.” Not that I don’t want to get married someday, I suppose. I’m too focused on my career right now.
“Then what’s the problem? Right now, we’re two people who are wildly attracted to each other. Why not enjoy that?”
“It’s more complicated than that.” The fact that he walked in demanding answers and is now seducing me is proof of that.
"Tell me to leave." His hand cups my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip. "Tell me, and I'll go."
I should. God knows I should. But the words won't come.
Instead, I lean into his touch, my body betraying every professional boundary I’ve been trying to set.
"This is a mistake," I say, even as my hands reach for him.
"Probably." His smile is wicked, victorious. "But it's one worth making."
When our lips finally meet, it's like a match to gasoline.
Every rational thought evaporates in the heat of his mouth on mine.
My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands slide down my back, lifting me against him.
I'm crossing a line I can't uncross.
Tomorrow, I'll have to face what this means for my investigation, for my career, for everything I thought I stood for.
But right now, with Dom's hands claiming my body, I can't bring myself to care.
"This doesn't change anything," I gasp as his lips trace a path down my neck.
I feel his smile against my skin. "It changes everything, Olivia. You just haven't admitted it yet."
The terrifying truth is that I'm afraid he might be right.