Olivia
The empty office feels like a different world on Saturday. The usual bustle replaced by silence. I drop my bag on my desk and sink into my chair.
I’ve tried to sort my life out, but in the end, Dom is right, without the FBI, who am I? The thought stings because it's true. I've built my entire identity around this badge.
I can't even bring myself to process what Roman revealed about my father.
Every time my mind drifts toward reconciling the man I idolized with a cop on the take, something inside me slams shut. The cognitive dissonance is too much to bear.
It won’t be like this forever, I remind myself. I’ll finish my job here and then find something stable and safe to support me and my child.
I pull up the case files I've been building, forcing myself to focus on Blackwood instead. This, at least, is something concrete I can grasp. Something I can fight.
Three weeks ago, my biggest concern was building a case against Dominic Vitale.
Now I'm carrying his child and questioning everything I thought I knew about justice, about my father, my boss, and about myself.
"Get it together, Ricci," I mutter, rubbing my temples, like it will sooth away the hurt and betrayal. The profound sense of loneliness and loss since leaving Dom.
God, I miss him in a way that makes no sense. His voice, his touch, even his infuriating confidence.
The space he once occupied in my life is a cavernous hole. I knew when it started, it would end.
But I had no idea how much it would gut me.
I’m strong. I will survive. I’ve decided the best way to get over him is to avoid him, which is why I've blocked him from contacting me.
I try not to think about how wrong it is to keep our child from him.
If only he’d leave his life, then maybe things would be different.
His identity might not be wrapped up in being a don like mine is being a federal agent, but it is wrapped up in his family.
He won’t leave them and it would be wrong to ask him too.
I open my email and mindlessly sort through messages, but my thoughts keep circling back to the same question: What comes next?
I could be an FBI agent and a mother. Women do it every day. But I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder wondering if criminals or my corrupt colleagues are out to get me.
I could teach at Quantico. Or work as a consultant. Or leave law enforcement entirely.
The possibilities are vast. Frightening, but also freeing.
For the first time in weeks, I feel a flicker of something other than dread. Whatever path I choose, it will be mine, for me and my child.
"Agent Ricci, a moment." Blackwood's voice startles me.
I look up and see him standing in the doorway of his office. "Sir." I close the file I've been pretending to read for the last twenty minutes.
"My office." He turns without waiting for a response.
I take a breath and head to his office. Every interaction with Blackwood now feels like walking through a minefield.
Does he suspect I know?
Can he tell I've been digging into his past operations not to investigate Dom but to investigate him?
His office is immaculate as always. Every award and commendation perfectly aligned on the wall.
"The Vitale investigation," he says, settling behind his desk. "Where are we?"
I take the seat across from him, maintaining eye contact. "Still pursuing financial angles. His legitimate businesses are clean on paper, but I'm working on connecting some offshore accounts that might lead somewhere."
Half-truths. Just enough information to sound like progress without revealing anything substantial.
"Vitale's careful, but we’ll get him." And that’s what concerns me most. While not all criminals are caught, many are. At some point Dom will end up like many others in the mafia, dead or incarcerated. I can’t be around for that and I won’t put a child through that.
"I see." He leans back.
"I've also been trying to identify the man who attacked me," I say, watching Blackwood's face carefully. "He told me to stop digging."
"Stop digging into what, exactly?" His voice is measured, professional.
"That's what I've been trying to figure out." I lean forward slightly.
"Did you report this to the police?"
"No, sir."
"That was an error in judgment, Agent Ricci." His rebuke is swift and sharp. "You're a victim in this case, not the investigating officer."
"The timing suggests it might be connected to Vitale, but I can't be certain."
He shakes his head. "I need you focused on your assigned case. Dominic Vitale remains our priority."
"Of course."
"In the meantime, I'd suggest you avoid any... distractions."
The warning in his voice is unmistakable.
"Is there something specific you're referring to, sir?"
"Just a general observation." Blackwood opens a folder on his desk. "You've been pursuing several tangential lines of inquiry lately. Rocco Monti's kidnapping. The Ferraza case. Now this attack. None of which fall under your purview."
"I thought they might connect to Vitale somehow."
"That's not for you to determine." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Stay in your lane, Agent Ricci. The bureau functions best when everyone follows procedure."
I nod again. "Understood, sir."
"Take some time to consider if you need more leave. Or perhaps..." Blackwood's voice softens as if he wants to sound concerned. "you'd prefer reassignment to a different case entirely."
My spine stiffens. This isn't concern. It’s a test.
"I appreciate your consideration, sir, but that won't be necessary." I meet his gaze steadily. "I'm perfectly capable of handling the Vitale investigation."
"Are you certain? After your attack—"
"The attack has only strengthened my resolve." That’s the truth. "I'm more determined than ever to see this through."
Something shifts behind his eyes but I can’t quite read it. "Good. That's what I hoped you'd say." He straightens some papers on his desk. "You're one of our best, Ricci. I'd hate to see this case transferred elsewhere after all your hard work."
I keep my expression neutral, deciding to test the waters. "Thank you, sir. I wonder, has your agent at Vitale's dock come up with anything useful yet?"
Blackwood's eyes narrow slightly. "How do you know about that operation, Agent Ricci?"
My heart skips a beat, but I maintain my composure. "You mentioned it to me, sir.”
Did I imagine the flash of suspicion in his eyes? He studies me for a moment too long before his features relax.
"Ah, yes." He nods slowly. "Memory isn't what it used to be with all these operations running simultaneously."
I offer a sympathetic smile. "I understand completely."
"To answer your question, no. Nothing substantial yet." Blackwood leans back in his chair. "Our man is still establishing his position. Undercover work is a long game, as you know. Especially with someone as cautious as Vitale."
"Of course." I nod, wondering if there ever was another agent or if this is just Blackwood covering his tracks. "These things take time."
"Indeed they do." He taps his pen against the desk. "Which is why I need you focused on your investigations, not chasing tangents."
I can't let Blackwood see that I'm suspicious. I need to play this carefully.
"I understand the need for compartmentalization," I say, "but I'm wondering if I could speak with your undercover agent. Maybe there's something he's observed that didn't seem important to report but could connect to my financial investigation."
Blackwood's expression hardens. "That would be extremely risky, Agent Ricci. We can't compromise his position."
"Of course," I nod, backing off immediately. "Just thought I'd ask."
I start to rise from my chair, but Blackwood's face suddenly shifts. "Actually, perhaps there is an opportunity."
I settle back into my seat, trying not to appear too eager. "Sir?"
"Michael Mullins is the agent's name. Good man. Young, but eager. I've sent him out on several in-and-out assignments. Never been made. Very effective."
I don't know why, but I wonder if my attack was one of those in-and-out assignments.
Blackwood checks his watch. "He should be at Vitale's private warehouse on the north dock right now. Security's minimal on weekends."
My pulse quickens. "Is it safe to approach him there?"
"Vitale and his people will be at the Winter Festival today, like they are every year." His expression turns annoyed. "La Corona makes quite the show of community involvement. Keeps up appearances."
Last year it’s where Rocco Monti was abducted.
"If you're careful, this could be an ideal time," Blackwood continues.
I wonder why he changed his mind. "What exactly is Mullins looking for at the warehouse?" I ask, keeping my tone casual.
"Evidence of smuggling. Contraband. The usual."
"Of course. Thank you for trusting me with this, sir."
"You've earned it, Ricci." He smiles thinly. "Just be discreet. In and out. No one can know you were there."
"Understood."
As I stand to leave, nausea rolls through me.
Morning sickness has impeccable timing.
I swallow hard, refusing to show any weakness.
As I reach the door, Blackwood calls after me.
"Oh, and Ricci? Take care of yourself. These mafia cases... they have a way of becoming personal if you're not careful."
The warning in his voice sends a chill down my spine. Is he threatening me? Or does he know about me and Dom?
"I always maintain professional distance, sir," I lie, and close the door behind me.
I walk quickly to my desk. I grab my purse, check my weapon, and head for the elevator.
There’s a kernel of apprehension as I ride the elevator down.
But I want to talk to Mullins to hear his voice and find out if he attacked me.
And if not, find out what he’s learned about Dom’s business.
A strange discomfort slides through me as I realize that if Mullins has something incriminating, my first instinct is to call and warn Dom.