Page 12 of The Mafia's Second Shot

“I was trying to protect you,” I say, my voice rising despite myself. “I didn’t want this life to touch you.”

“Well, it did,” she snaps. “And now I’m stuck in it again because of you.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. I watch as she takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she tries to rein in her emotions.

“You always put your mafia ties first,” she says quietly, her voice laced with bitterness. “Even when you swore I was the most important thing to you.”

I lean forward, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “You think I wanted this? You think I don’t regret every decision that led us here?”

She meets my gaze, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Then why did you make those choices, Cooper? Why couldn’t you just let me in?”

“Because I was afraid,” I admit, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “Afraid that if you knew the truth, you’d leave. And I couldn’t lose you, Zoey. Not you.”

Her breath catches, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The walls she’s built around herself falter, just slightly, and I see a flicker of the woman I fell in love with—the one who saw the good in me even when I couldn’t see it myself.

“I never stopped fighting for you,” I say, my voice low and raw. “Even when you walked away. Even when I thought I’d never see you again. Everything I’ve done has been for you, Zoey.”

9

ZOEY

The morning sun streams through the tall windows of my room, casting golden light across the pristine white walls. Everything about Cooper’s estate feels like a contradiction—opulent, yet cold. Grand, yet lifeless. It’s so different from the warmth and chaos of my apartment that it feels like I’ve been dropped into someone else’s life. Someone else’s gilded cage.

I run my fingers over the edge of the polished dresser, my thoughts still tangled from last night. His words replay in my mind on a relentless loop:

“Everything I’ve done has been for you, Zoey.”

Part of me wanted to believe him, to see the vulnerability in his voice and let it chip away at the fortress I’ve built around my heart. But the other part—the louder, angrier part—remembers all the lies, the danger, and the way he kept me in the dark until it was too late.

I need air. Space. Anything to clear my head.

I spendmost of the day wandering the estate, soaking in its overwhelming silence. The grounds are immaculate, with sprawling gardens, marble fountains, and pathways that twist and turn through rows of hedges. It’s the kind of place that’s designed to impress, to make people forget the man who owns it lives in a world built on secrets and shadows.

As I walk, I can’t stop thinking about the argument we had. The way his voice cracked when he admitted he was afraid I’d leave. The rawness in his eyes when he told me he’d never stopped fighting for me.

It doesn’t add up. If he cared that much, why didn’t he fight to keep me back then? Why let me walk away if he loved me the way he claims?

There’s something he’s not telling me. Something bigger than his guilt or regret. And I can’t shake the feeling that it has everything to do with the night I left.

By late afternoon,I’ve had enough of wandering and wondering. I find Cooper in his office, sitting behind an oversized mahogany desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and monitors displaying feeds from his security cameras. He doesn’t notice me at first, too focused on whatever report he’s reading.

“Busy?” I ask, crossing my arms as I lean against the doorframe.

His head snaps up, his expression softening slightly when he sees me. “Always,” he says, setting the papers down. “What’s on your mind?”

I step inside, the door clicking shut behind me. “We need to talk.”

He leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. “About?”

“The night I left,” I say, my voice steady. “The night you told me I didn’t need to know what you were involved in.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I want the truth, Cooper,” I continue, stepping closer. “All of it. No more half-answers, no more protecting me from whatever you think I can’t handle. I deserve to know.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Zoey, this isn’t?—”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s not my business,” I cut him off. “That night changed everything. You knew what you were doing when you sent me away, and you’ve been carrying that guilt ever since. So tell me why.”

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