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It was beyond bizarre to be on the other side of the table in a police interrogation room. We were at the 23rdPrecinct, where Dante had turned himself in late last night. The two uniformed cops who had come to pick me up had long ago handed me over to a pair of detectives.

One of the men was an older man with a slight underbite that made him look almost feral, and the other was a gorgeous younger man with close-cropped dark hair and pale blue eyes like chips of arctic ice.

It was the latter who leaned over the metal table intimidatingly.

“Ms. Lombardi… or should we call you Mrs. Salvatore now?” he questioned as if he was clever and shocking.

I blinked at him. “You can call me whatever you like, but I won’t answer until Mrs. Ghorbani arrives.”

He scowled at me. “You think because you’re a lawyer, you’re above the law? We know you went to Italy with Dante Salvatore when he fled the country. We’ve got surveillance tapes that put you at the same airport.”

I blinked at him again.

“He told us that he kidnapped you and forced you to marry him so you couldn’t testify against him in court,” he tried, giving me a mean, sly look as if his words could hurt me.

I almost told the idiot that of course we’d gotten married so quickly because of Dante’s trial. Not only did I not have to testify against him, but now, I also had rights to see him and speak on his behalf.

I yawned.

The cop, a Detective Falcone, slapped his hand against the table. “You think this is funny? Dante Salvatore is one of the most dangerous men in New York. He probably wined and dined you with all his blood money and kept the truth from you. But he’s a very bad man, Ms. Lombardi, and I’m telling you, a law-abidinglawyerlike yourself doesn’t want to be within sixty feet of him.”

Actually, I would have given nearly anything to be within sixty feet of him again soon.

There was a knock on the door, and then Yara entered, dressed impeccably in a beautiful double-breasted suit.

Detective Falcone sighed and sat down as soon as she moved into the room, clearly aware of her reputation.

“Falcone, Whitmore,” she greeted cordially as she took the seat beside me. “I trust you’ve been treating my client well while you waited for me to arrive.”

Their silence was somewhat petulant.

“We’re trying to protect you,” Falcone tried again. “We got intel that the di Carlos family is after you. They make yourhusbandlook like a fucking kitty cat. You give us what we need to keep Salvatore behind bars, we can offer WITSEC.”

I laughed.

I couldn’t help it.

Giving up my entire life by giving up Dante? It was so ludicrous it made my belly ache.

“I think you should take that as a ‘no,’ gentlemen,” Yara suggested coolly. “And unless you have actual charges to level against Ms. Lombardi, I think we’re done here.”

“You’re in danger,” Whitmore inserted sincerely. “Do you understand who you have coming at you? The Cosa Nostra has stayed strong for a reason. They take out anyone in their way.”

They can try, I thought as I fixed an icy smile on my face. “Thank you for looking out for me, detectives, but I think we’re done here.”

Falcone sighed heavily, grabbing my arms as I went to walk back so he could press something into my palm. “This is my card. Something happens, you call.”

I blinked up at him curiously because he seemed genuinely concerned for me, and in my experience, most cops didn’t care about random suspects. “You seem invested in this case, Detective Falcone.”

His lips pursed. “Trust me, I know the mafia seems glamorous, but it’s a nightmare. Death is nothing to them. They eat women like you for fucking breakfast. I don’t want to see a nice woman with agoodreputation lose everything, even her life.”

I patted his arm. “It’s all a matter of perspective because the only way that would happen is if I took your advice.”

The first thing I did after being interviewed by the police was meet with Ricardo Stavos.

“Elena,” he greeted me with a wide grin and open arms, kissing me warmly on both cheeks before he took a seat across from me. “I was so happy to hear your voice. Everyone at Fields, Harding & Griffith misses you.”

I arched a brow. “Oh? I’m sure Ethan Topp is beside himself.”