Page 244 of Rosetti Family New York
"She died because she tried to stop it," she says. Ethan's voice cracks. "She died because I didn't stop her hard enough."
"Who gave the order?" I ask, my voice dropping low. Silence stretches before Ethan whispers, "Connor Callahan. He said she was a liability. Said he'd make it quick."
"Did you try to warn her?" I press.
Ethan's laugh is broken, hollow. "I did everything I could. I begged her to leave town. I offered to go with her, to start oversomewhere else." His eyes are haunted. "She told me to fuck off. She thought she was invincible. Thought she could handle it herself, that nobody would dare touch a grad student with no criminal record."
Sloane laughs now, the sound ragged and joyless. "She wasn't," she says.
The room falls silent except for the faint bass thumping above us. Sloane's quiet steel cuts through the hush: "Why didn't you say anything when I came to you before? Instead of tying me and locking me up, you could have just told me the truth."
I punch Ethan, sending a sharp crack echoing as he crumples to the cold, unforgiving concrete. The dull thud reverberates in the air. "That's for touching my girl," I growl before delivering a brutal kick to Ethan's stomach, eliciting a pained groan. "And that's for hurting her. Now get the fuck up onto your feet and answer her damn question."
Ethan struggles to his feet, his breath ragged and shallow. There's something broken in him, something that goes beyond the physical pain. He meets my eyes fleetingly before averting his gaze to the dusty ground. "I didn't tell her because—"
I lunge forward, my fist smashing into his nose with a sickening crunch, feeling the cartilage give way beneath my knuckles. "You're answering Sloane, asshole. So look at her."
His eyes reluctantly shift to my girl, and fury flares within me, an animalistic urge to rip his eyes out just for daring to look at her, though I just demanded it. I force myself to hold back, for now.
"I..." Ethan starts, his voice small. He takes a deep breath, wincing as it pulls at his bruised ribs. "I was scared the Callahans would kill me. But that's not all."
He looks directly at Sloane now, something broken but honest in his gaze.
"I thought if I told you everything, you'd go off half-cocked like Maddy did. You're just like her – too brave for your own good." A tear mixes with the blood on his face. "I couldn't have another death on my conscience. Not yours too."
His voice trembles, but there's a ring of truth to it.
I stare at him, reassessing. There's something genuine in his pain, something that goes beyond fear for his own life.
"I loved her. I swear to God, Sloane. I loved her." His voice breaks. "I'd have died for her if I could have. But she was so fucking stubborn." A small, sad smile touches his lips. "Just like you."
Sloane's voice breaks as she replies: "Then you should've protected her."
We hold a long, heavy silence. Ethan finally sinks into a chair, his head in his hands. His body shakes with silent sobs. The tough Red Hook enforcer is gone, replaced by a grieving, broken man.
I grab Ethan by the collar, lift him to his feet. "This is what's going to happen now," I say. "You're going to leave. You're going to keep your mouth shut. And you're going to wish to God you're not in my way the next time I come looking for you."
He nods, understanding. I unlock the door, but I don't leave.
I look back at Ethan and say flatly, "If you're lying about any of this, I'll know. And I won't be scared to act."
"I know," Ethan whispers, the fear returning to his eyes. But there's something else there too – a quiet resignation, an acceptance of his fate. "I loved her, Sloane. I couldn't save her. Maybe you can at least make sure she didn't die for nothing."
Sloane watches him, her expression softening just a fraction. She doesn't forgive him, not entirely. But something in his broken confession has reached her.
"I will," she says quietly. "For Maddy."
27
Sloane
The sweeping view from the rooftop of the Rosetti mansion knocks the breath right out of me. Though the estate seems so far below, I can hear the faint rustle of the darkening trees in the chill wind like an uneasy whisper. The sun dips beneath the horizon, painting the vast gardens with a warm orange glow, and the city beyond lights up in little twinkling flashes. It’s beautiful and lonely all at once. I shiver and lean hard against the railing, which feels cold and unwelcoming under my fingertips. The wind bites, sharp and relentless, and I realize I should have worn a coat. Maybe I prefer the discomfort.
I wrap my arms around myself as if to hold everything inside. It feels like the one thing I can do here.
Rafe steps up beside me but doesn’t say a word. True to form, as always. I half expect him to turn around and leave me to my thoughts, but he just stands there. A silent shadow. I draw in a deep breath that hitches a little at the end.
“She died because she did the right thing,” I whisper.
