Chapter 5
MIA
“This is bullshit,” I snap under my breath before taking a seat. Apparently, Leo DeLuca is above the law, and my only suspect is now untouchable.
“You heard Captain,” Keith says, sitting at the desk opposite my own. “The commissioner doesn’t want us anywhere near him.”
I roll my eyes, tossing the case file on my desk.
“That’s not entirely true. He said we need stronger evidence before we can bring him in.
Which is bullshit because finding his valet ticket on our victim is pretty damning evidence.
” And there’s the fact that Leo’s connected with the Carusos somehow. I just don’t know how.
“The wife and brother didn’t have much to say either,” Keith says, letting out the same frustrated sigh I feel gathering in my own lungs.
I bite my bottom lip, trying to conceal the guilt jabbing at my side.
Thankfully, I got out of those interviews, but I could’ve told Keith it was a lost cause. Russos didn’t spill easily. Even if they wanted justice for Vince, anything they told us could implicate them somehow, and they were smarter than that.
I spin my chair to face the large whiteboard posted up near our station.
Vince’s mugshot from when he was eighteen stares blankly back at me.
His face is solemn, but I can see all the warmth in his gaze.
He wasn’t necessarily an upstanding citizen, but he was a good person.
Someone who didn’t deserve to die like he did.
“I’m not giving up,” I declare, pushing myself to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”
“Esposito, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Keith warns, also getting up, but I ignore him and let my feet guide me into the captain’s office.
When I pass the threshold, Captain is sitting behind a sea of paperwork, trying to enjoy his coffee.
He looks almost old under the fluorescent light, but you can’t tell unless you’re up close.
His hair is gone, and his dark skin barely shows any wrinkles.
The only giveaway is his beard, which is mostly all gray at this point.
I’d like to think I’m responsible for most of those gray hairs.
“How did I know you’d be back for more, Esposito?” he grunts, clearing a spot on his desk for his coffee cup.
“I thought you hired me because you liked my tenacity?”
“True,” he mumbles, leaning back in his chair, “but I was hoping that tenacity would be focused on putting bad guys behind bars, not making my job harder.”
“Captain,” I begin, but it comes out as more of a plea.
“Stop, Esposito. I already know what you’re going to ask and I can’t allow it. My hands are tired unless you have new evidence.”
I throw my hands on my hips, trying not to let my shoulders slouch in disappointment. “How do you explain why my victim had Leo DeLuca’s valet ticket on him? That’s not a coincidence.”
“No,” he says, scrubbing his chin, “but here’s the weird part. I looked at the ticket and there wasn’t a license plate number or a name. All you had was the make and model, and you didn’t tell me how you were able to figure out it was his car.”
“We looked him up and he has that car registered under his name,” I say, trying to dodge the very logical question.
“You know that’s not how this works. We can’t build a case on a good guess. How did you know the car was his?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I heard a rumor that Councilman DeLuca frequented Ristorante Ottaviani and I know he’s the only one who can afford that type of ride.”
Complete and utter bullshit.
The captain stares at me, and I can tell he sees right through my lies, but thankfully he’s not in the mood to call me out. “And who did you hear this rumor from?”
I mash my lips together, feeling the thread slowly slip away. “I can’t say.”
“Of course you can’t,” he huffs, getting out of his chair.
He towers over me, which made me feel extremely intimidated the first time we met.
Now I know he’s just a big teddy bear. “I’m on your side here and I don’t doubt that there’s something going on with DeLuca.
This isn’t the first time our city has dealt with a dirty politician, but we need to be smart.
If you want to bring him in, you need cold, hard evidence.
Something that not even the commissioner can argue against.”
I nod slowly, seeing the captain reach for a paper on his desk. “What if I can prove that he’s connected with the Carusos?” I ask.
“That would be a good start, but it’s not going to be easy,” he says, messing with the paper in his hand.
“What’s that?” I ask, gesturing to the paper.
“Oh, the commissioner is sponsoring a few tables for our annual gala and invited me. It’s a fundraising event for the NYPD they do every year. It will be a bunch of higher-ups and maybe some politicians. Would you be interested?”
“Are you saying—”
“I’m not saying anything,” he says, cutting me off. He places the invitation in my hand, and my chest finally starts to warm again.
“If you go to this,” he says, crossing his arms. “You need to be careful. If anyone suspects that you’re there to spy on them, then I won’t hesitate to yank you and your partner off this case. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I answer, swallowing a lump in my throat. “Do you think he’ll be there?”
“A pretty boy like him? Of course. Guys like that never turn down the chance to play dress up and shmooze over constituents.”
A flicker of a smile returns to my lips. “I think I have a dress somewhere.”
“Take Richards as your date. He’s good at keeping you out of trouble.”
I nod, curling my fingers around the invitation and spinning on my heel. Keith is good at keeping me out of trouble, but only when he has all the details.
“One more thing,” he adds, causing me to pause at the doorway. “Be careful. If he realizes what you’re doing, he won’t make another mistake. You need to be smart.”
I turn enough to meet his eyes. “I will be.”
Because failure isn’t an option. If this man had anything to do with Vince’s death, he is going to pay. I don’t care whose protection he’s under.
Back at my desk, Keith stares at me as I sit down. His eyes flicker to the invitation in my hands.
“I know that look on your face. You’re not planning on letting the DeLuca thing go, are you?”
“Nope,” I smile, “I hope you have a suit, Richards, because you’re taking me out this weekend.”
“How do I look?” Keith asks, grabbing my arm and locking it with his.
I glance over at him. He’s wearing a simple black suit with a white undershirt, but he looks nice. It’s a big step up from the button-up and jeans he usually wears.
“You almost look nice enough to be on my arm.”
He mumbles something under his breath, shaking his head before stopping us a few feet away from the entrance and saying, “Last chance to back out.”
“You say that like I have a choice,” I exhale, my words holding more weight than he’ll ever know.
Inside the ballroom, string lights sparkle, and a crystal chandelier casts a glow over the polished marble floors. The room is packed with people who drip wealth and servers who are desperate to keep the booze flowing.
Keith leans in. “I’ll grab us some drinks. Do you want to find our seats?”
“Yes,” I say, loosening my grip on his arm. Without him holding me up, the heels he made me wear make me feel like a baby giraffe with my wobbling legs. At this point, even a slight breeze could take me out.
I scan the room and force my shoulders back as I search for our table. But before I can take another step, everything just stops.
An ice-cold chill drips down the peak of my neck, and the music fades to the background. I become hyperaware of my heartbeat thumping in my eardrums as I sweep the room for the source.
That’s when I see him.
It’s like the first two encounters, but this time when I look, he’s already staring back.
My skin feels like it’s on fire from the way his eyes melt up and down my body. It’s almost like he can see every inch of skin hiding underneath the dark red silk dress I barely squeezed into.
And then when his eyes finally connect with mine, his forehead creases and my stomach drops. Does he recognize me?
Before I can figure out whether to abort this mission before it begins, his date appears out of thin air, giving me the opportunity to duck behind a group of people talking.
Something sour curdles in my stomach as I use my new angle to look at his date. She’s a gorgeous, tall blonde that looks breathtaking in her royal blue dress. She reminds me of a modern-day Cinderella, and I feel like one of the ugly stepsisters.
“Everything okay?” Keith asks, handing me a glass of champagne. I nod, tearing my gaze away.
“He brought a date, so the seduction plan might be a no-go.”
Keith scoffs, and I turn toward him with a pointed look. “Your plan was to seduce him? Mia, you’re a terrible flirt.”
I narrow my eyes. “Am not. You’ve just never seen me in action.”
“Please,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You act like I didn’t see you embarrass yourself in front of that hot firefighter during our last case. He was into you until you accidentally kneed him in the—”
“I don’t need to relive that. Thank you very much,” I say, thrusting my hands to my hips. “And I’ll have you know—shit.” Before I can finish my thought, my heel catches on something.
I’m fully prepared to hit the ground when a strong hand reaches out and catches my arm. My champagne sloshes in the cup, but thankfully it doesn’t spill.
“That was close,” a voice says, deep and amused. I look up and I’m met with a cocky grin.
My hand fists his jacket, steadying myself. The fabric is thick and expensive. Way nicer than anything I’ve ever felt in my life. His hands stay gripped on my shoulders, and my skin crumples under his touch. He feels warm and solid.
For a split second, I wonder what it would be like to stay in his arms. I think I’d be content. More than content. But just when I can’t seem to push back the heat pulsing through me, I remember Vince’s cold, dead eyes and everything comes back into frame.
I clear my throat and quickly step away. “Sorry,” I say, smoothing my dress and forcing every nerve in my brain to calm down. “These shoes are a bit of a health hazard.”
His mouth curves, slow and deliberate. It’s a complete switch-up from the man I met at the bar that night. This one is charming and bold. The way his eyes drag over me makes me know he wants me.
“It sounds like I was at the right place, at the right time.”
Maybe this will be easier than I thought.
I feel my confidence start to spark up again and find my own lips curling into a sultry smile. Before I can respond, Keith appears at my side, and I mentally curse him out when his hand lands on my lower back. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say. Leo’s gaze hovers over Keith’s hand, but if he’s thrown off, he doesn’t show it. I step away from Keith’s hold, and I swear I see the edge of his smirk deepen. “Can you grab me a water, please? I think this champagne is making me clumsy.”
Keith rattles off an answer, but I don’t register it as I lock back in on my target.
“Do we know each other?” Leo asks, stepping closer.
Panic nips at my back, but I ignore it. “No, but I come to these things quite a bit. We might have crossed paths before.”
His lips rub together in a deep hum. “That’s not it. I think I would’ve remembered someone like you.”
Butterflies erupt in my stomach, and I have no clue how to respond to that. Luckily, Cinderella chooses a great time to interrupt.
“Leo,” she calls out, not sparing me a second glance. “Let’s go take some photos before dinner starts.”
His eyes linger on mine before he turns to her. It feels like a cool breeze to get his attention off me. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “I’ll catch up,” he tells her, and she obeys before moving toward the crowd.
Heat fills my chest when he focuses on me again. “Well, I should go find my date. I apologize for almost taking you out.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says. “That was the most exciting thing to happen to me in a while.”
I scoff before I can stop myself. He’s good. “You must have a thrilling life, Councilman.”
His brows lift. “Ah. So, you do know who I am.”
Fuck. He never introduced himself.
I shrug, searching for a way to play it off. “I know the face. It’s hard not to notice when you’re constantly on Page Six.”
“Right,” Leo says, his eyes tracking my every movement. He’s observant, which should make me panic, but somehow I keep my cool. “I think it’s only fair you introduce yourself then.”
I lift my chin, forcing my expression into a smooth and unbothered plain. “Mia,” I say.
“Mia,” he repeats, letting it roll off his tongue. “What’s it short for?”
“Emilia.”
Leo leans in closer, satisfied by my answer. My entire head fills up with a smoky oak and citrus that feels like it will be permanently burned into my brain.
“Emilia,” he repeats, testing it. “That’s beautiful.”
Heat crawls up the side of my face as he takes my hand in his and presses a chaste kiss on my knuckles.
“I’ll see you soon, Emilia,” Leo says before dropping my hand and slipping through the crowd to dazzle more strangers with that sinister smile.
“Okay, maybe I was wrong,” Keith says, appearing out of nowhere. “Are you sure about this, Mia? That guy gives me bad vibes. Maybe we should—"
“Relax, Keith,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder. “I just have to get close enough to swipe his phone for a few seconds. I’ll be careful. I promise,” I say, tearing my eyes away from Leo’s disappearing form.
Stealing his phone will be easy. Convincing myself the pulsing sensation underneath my skin isn’t because of him will be the hard part.