Page 163 of Mafia and Gold Digger

Instead, he just walked away.

‘You and me, we were never fake.’ And my heart plummets as I think it was just another Saint lie in the long list of them. I let the bottle fall to the floor with a hollow thud before me.

“Alright, Ms. Fiorelli, you’re free to go.”

My brow puckers. “What?”

“The charges were dropped. Sorry for the hold up. You know, paperwork and all that.”

I stare as Officer Rawlins opens the cell door. “But I don’t understand?”

“You don’t wanna leave?”

“Uh, no,” I say quickly, bolting out of the cell before he can change his mind and following him down the hall. “I thought the owner was adamant about throwing me in jail?”

He shrugs. “Change of heart or something like that.”

A change of heart? Hardly. I shake my head as he guides me toward where another officer is pouring my things from a plastic bag.

“You can go on and change in there,” the second officer directs me.

“Uh, thanks.” I grab my clothes, trying to put things together. Did Saint manage to do this?Jesus, did he kill the woman who owns the boutique? My heart thumps in my chest. He did. There’s no other way around it.Oh God…

I quickly change back into my jeans, sweater, and jacket. I scoop up the chessboard keychain from the table, and after gazing at it for a few long moments, I slip it into my pocket. And then I’m buzzed out of the custody area and find Saint leaning against the wall and waiting for me.

“You know, you need to stick to more legal activities during your free time, Emerald.”

“Says the assassin.”

“Christ, keep your voice down until we’re at least out of here.” He looks me up and down. “Is that outfit warm enough?”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s cold out there,” he says, pushing from where his shoulder rests against the wall. He’s wearing a black sweater, leather jacket, and light scarf. It shouldn’t make him look as good as it does, and I curse myself for even noticing.

“I’ll be fine. How’d you do it, Saint?”

“What?”

“How’d you get them to drop the charges? Is the owner still alive? Did you threaten her? Put a lean on her?”

“Put a lean on her?” he asks, brow arched. The corner of his lip tugs up, and despite everything—despite the gaping hole in my chest—his smile makes my stomach flip. He unwinds his black scarf and wraps it around my neck, his gentle touch making me shiver. “No, I didn’t put a lean on her—not sure what the hell that even means. I didn’t kill her or threaten her.”

“But if you didn’t do those things, then how did you do it?”

He shakes his head as he pushes open the doors to the outside.

I grab his arm. “Tell me how you did it.”

“I bought the boutique.”

“What?”

“Keep walking, Emerald. The kids’ play date is almost up, and my men will be bringing them home soon. I’m not going to hear the end of it if I’m late making their dinner.”

But I stop in my tracks. “And since when did you start caring about play dates and stuff like that?”

He whirls around. “Since you came into my life.”

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