Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Richard
Meanwhile Richard Carter didn’t scare easy. He’d made a career out of staring down auditors, angry board members, even the occasional criminal probe. But this time, he was rattled.
His private investigator met him in a parking garage, face gray and voice barely above a whisper.
“I told you to stop asking questions,” the man hissed, thrusting a file into Richard’s hand. “You want to live to see your kid graduate, drop this now.”
Richard snorted, flipping the folder open. “Just tell me who Noah Massimo really is.”
The investigator looked over his shoulder, as if expecting a sniper. “He owns the coffee shops. The buildings. Half the neighborhood. But that’s not the story.”
“Then what is?” Richard pressed.
The man licked his lips. “They call him Don Massimo. He’s not just connected—he is the connection. Nobody makes a move in this city without his say-so. Cops, politicians, unions. Even the Feds treat him like a sleeping volcano.”
Richard laughed, high and nervous. “That’s insane. He’s a barista with a charity streak.”
The investigator pulled out a handful of photos and tossed them onto the passenger seat.
There was Noah, surrounded by men in tailored suits and body armor, shaking hands with someone whose face was blurred out.
Another photo showed him at a country estate, armed guards on every side.
In the last, Noah stood with a group of priests and city councilmen, all of them listening as he spoke.
“He’s untouchable,” the man said. “And if you keep pushing, you’ll bring it all down on your fucking head.”
Richard closed the file with shaking hands.
He sat in the car for ten full minutes before calling Caroline.
She didn’t answer.
He tried again, then drove straight to her apartment, rehearsing his warning in his head.
When she opened the door, she looked…happy. Lighter. Her hair was loose, her cheeks flushed, like she’d just come in from a run or—God help him—a date.
“What do you want, Richard?” she asked, folding her arms.
He held up the file. “You need to see this. Massimo isn’t who you think.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re stalking my boyfriend now?”
“He’s not a boyfriend, Caroline—he’s a criminal. A dangerous one. You can’t be with him.”
She laughed, genuine and cruel. “Why? Because you say so? Because I finally moved on and it’s not with someone you approve of?”
He shoved the photos at her. “Look at them. Please.”
She glanced at the top one, then handed them back. “So he wears suits and knows people. I don’t care. He’s kind, he listens, he makes me feel safe.”
“You don’t understand. He’s—”
She cut him off. “No, Richard, you don’t understand. You lost the right to warn me about anything the day you slept with my daughter’s friend.”
He gaped. “Caroline, you’re in danger.”
She shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “The only person I’m ever in danger from is you.”
She shut the door, slow and final.
Richard stood in the hallway, pulse thundering, breath shallow.
He called the investigator, but the line went straight to voicemail.
He looked at the photos again. The men in the background, the weapons, the armor.
He remembered how Noah had looked at him that night at the fundraiser. Not like a rival, but like a man who could have him erased with a word.
Richard stumbled back to his car, the world spinning.
For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid.
He floored it out of the lot, desperate to put as much distance as possible between him and the city.
And all the while, he could hear Caroline’s voice in his head: “He makes me feel safe.”
Richard knew it wouldn’t last.
Because the one thing about power—sooner or later, it demanded payment.
And he had a sinking feeling that Caroline was about to find out the price.