Chapter 32: Coffee and the Cop

HAYLEY

When Hayley walked into the quiet café, Detective Blake was in a booth as far back from the windows as possible.

“Thank you for coming,” he said as she slid into the seat opposite him.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” she said flatly as she watched him shrug out of his jacket.

He was wearing a T-shirt that emphasized his muscular physique, and she was taken aback by the tattoos up and down his arms—for some bizarre reason, she didn’t associate tattoos with cops.

She tried not to think of the impressive artwork on Luca’s body that made her so hot. She shouldn’t be thinking of him at all while she sat here with a cop.

“I’m not your enemy, Hayley,” Detective Blake said, staring earnestly at her with his striking green eyes.

His words made her laugh. “I can’t exactly call you a friend. A friend wouldn’t blackmail somebody into doing something.”

He nodded. “True. I’m not your friend, Hayley. I’m a cop—a cop who has a duty to protect these streets and the innocents who get caught in the organized crime crossfire.”

She watched as he pulled out a manila file and opened it.

“Do you recognize any of these people?”

He slid over the file and she looked at the photos. They all looked like gangsters—criminals.

Her stomach dropped when she recognized the faces of the three men Luca had shot in the club during the rigged poker game, the young driver who drove her to Borroni for the game of Russian roulette, and, of course, Artem.

But she pretended not to react.

“They’re missing persons,” Detective Blake explained. “To be honest, all these men were family members, whether they were Borroni, Genovese, Marcello, or whoever. They’re missing, but we know we’re never going to find them.

“But we don’t care too much about their fate. They reap what they sow.”

Hayley felt sick but said nothing; she simply watched as he pulled out another file.

“These are what we call innocents. They had no direct link to any family, are not druggies, thugs, or whores.”

He handed her the file, and her stomach churned as she looked at the hundreds of faces.

“These are just over the past eighteen months or so.”

Hayley recognized one face as the waiter who took her phone to make it easier for Borroni to kidnap her.

“They’re all dead. Some were victims of pure circumstance.”

Hayley sighed and threw the file back on the table, then rolled her eyes when he brought out yet another.

“I’m more interested in these two.” He handed her the much thicker file, and she opened it. “These are the Wheeler twins.”

Photos of the two men were on top, and she remembered seeing one of them when Luca took her for breakfast. He’d been sitting at the café counter and had spoken to Luca.

She leafed through the file, and her body tensed when she came across photos of the bodies. One had been completely dismembered, and the second appeared to have been tortured.

The words ~RAT~, ~TRAITOR~, and ~LIAR~ were carved into his skin.

Stomach churning, she closed the file and looked back at Detective Blake. “How long has organized crime been in New York?”

He looked taken aback by the change of subject.

“Generations.”

She nodded, trying not to think about the innocents killed by the Mafia, by men like Luca. “So for generations, police have been trying to stop organized crime. What makes you think you can do it overnight?”

Detective Blake laughed and shook his head. “Oh, Hayley, I’m not on a mission to fix New York ~overnight~. It’s been a long, five-year slog, but my goal is to infiltrate and bring them down.”

“You seem to take your job personally, Detective.”

“I do.”

She tilted her head slightly, indicating she wanted to know more.

“I’ve lived in New York my entire life. I grew up on these violent streets.” He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “I was raised by an American mother and an Italian father. I had two brothers, Cain and Anthony.”

Hayley’s chest tightened at the word ~had~—she knew this story wasn’t going to end well.

“Not to stereotype, but being Italian American, gang life was eventually going to find us—me and my brothers.

“My brother Anthony was the oldest, and he joined the delightful Genovese family. My foolish younger brother, Cain, found the Borronis to be good company.”

Hayley winced at the name of the man who made her play Russian roulette with Luca.

“A few years ago, the Genoveses and the Borronis were in a full-scale war—for turf and whatever else. Cain was shot, died like a dog on the street. The Borronis retaliated, and in the crossfire, my parents and Anthony were killed.”

“I’m sorry,” Hayley whispered. It was the only thing she could think of to say. But what did this have to do with Luca and the Marcello family?

“I joined the force, worked my way up the ladder and became a detective, then I found out the wonderful Marcello family, as part of a deal with Matteo Genovese, organized the hit on my family.”

Hayley’s heart sank. Luca’s family had killed the detective’s family.

“My boss made me an undercover detective in the organized crime unit. Everybody believes I work for the fraud department, but really I find informants to gather evidence against the three families I’m working on.

“The other two families are the responsibility of another detective like me.”

“Why the extra layer of secrecy?” she asked.

“All the families have cops in the organized crime unit. This way, my information doesn’t land in their laps. The Wheeler brothers were two of my informants. One of them worked for the Marcello family.

“Luca and Niccolo gave him the task of infiltrating the Borronis, and he did. He gathered evidence for both families and passed it on to me. His twin then joined the Borroni family, and Luca thought he was working for him too.”

Hayley opened the file to the dismembered body and showed it to Detective Blake. “This doesn’t make me want to help you. You couldn’t protect them.”

“They made a mistake. I told them not to do something and they did it. Luca never found out they worked for the cops. He, just like the Borronis, thinks they were just interfamily rats.

“Luca Marcello is a dangerous and violent man, Hayley. I knew all three bosses from school—we grew up together. Lorenzo Borroni was a sly bastard, and Matteo Genovese was confident and arrogant.

“Luca Marcello was a clever kid, but he knew his fate and grew up quickly.”

“I don’t think I can help you,” Hayley said, shaking her head. “I’m not with Luca; he’s made that clear. Like you told me, he’s with another woman. I’m just another girl to him.”

“You have more power than you think.” He pulled out a couple of photographs from his coat and handed them to her.

They were of her and Luca at the casino party—he was holding her in his arms. She put the photos down and looked at the detective.

“I’m not asking you to risk life and limb, Hayley. I just want a phone call—names and places.”

Hayley sighed. She couldn’t do it.

Detective Blake reached into his bag and produced yet another file. “I didn’t want to blackmail you, Hayley…”

The file had personal information about her: the schools she’d gone to, addresses she’d lived at, copies of her real passports—and family pictures.

“I’m not interested in the man you killed. For now, it’s an open case on my boss’s murder pile. If you help me, I’ll have him rule it an organized crime death. It will disappear, and you’ll be free.

“You help me, and this file will be destroyed. I’ll get you a new identity, and it will be legal this time.”

As Detective Blake picked up the file and flicked through it, Hayley thought back to the guy she’d killed in self-defense and the people she’d run to New York to get away from. And then she thought about Luca.

Could she betray him like this?

~All traitors must die~, she remembered him saying the other night, when he was going to kill that man over Artem.

“You’re a bright girl,” Detective Blake said, his eyes on the file. “A talented dancer, fluent in several languages, and a skilled writer according to your school records. A new life would mean you could pursue anything.”

He lifted his eyes to hers. “Prison life will not suit you. Neither will deportation.”

“You have the power to do the right thing, Hayley. These men, Luca included, are bad men. They murder, they traffic people and drugs. Luca will use anyone to get his way, even let Frankie go to prison for his mistakes.”

Hayley shook her head. She didn’t believe Luca would do something like that to his best friend.

“It’s true. Frankie served eighteen months in prison. It was a deal with the cops. It was supposed to be Luca in the deal, but Frankie came forward and took the sentence for him.

“In prison, Frankie recruited men for the Marcello family, promising them a job when they got out. That’s how he moved up the ranks to become Luca’s main recruiter. All newbies go through Frankie now.”

Hayley was stunned. Luca allowed Frankie to go to prison for him? But Frankie was supporting his sister!

While Detective Blake went to get more coffee, she thought about the people the cops had labeled innocents.

Yes, she knew some of them were probably working for a family quietly, but many were just average people who happened to know too much.

Hayley was stuck in the weeds between the paths of right and wrong, good and evil. Luca had killed—she knew this—and it was no secret the kind of man he was. The painful part was that she still felt something for him.

He would never feel anything for her, though. He wasn’t capable of it. Look at how quickly he’d replaced her with Arianna.

She could help put a stop to the violence; she could gain a new life. But at what cost? Luca’s life?

Detective Blake put a mug down in front of Hayley, then slid into the booth. “Look. I know this is scary, and your safety is my top priority. That’s why I’m giving you until the last day of November, a full month, to get any information.

“We’ll meet on November 30, you tell me what you know, and I’ll get you your new identity.”

“And if I get you nothing?”

“Then you’ll go to prison and be deported. I can only protect you if you give me something. So, are you in or out?” He placed a pair of handcuffs on the table. “I can arrest you now if you prefer.”

She didn’t have much choice. But…what if she left now? She could go straight to Paris and hide there; then she wouldn’t have to help him.

He shook his head, like he could read her mind. “Don’t even think about running. You’ll only get as far as the airport. I’ll have your photograph in every airport in the country. You’re not going anywhere until I say so.”

She looked down at the handcuffs. Was she prepared to go to prison, to risk going back to Russia, because of her stupid loyalty to Luca Marcello?

“Okay,” she whispered, and the word tore through her.

Detective Blake smiled as he put the handcuffs away. “Good choice, Hayley. It’s the right thing.”

He pulled out a burner phone. “Take this. It has only my number in it, and it’s under my first name—Adam. Text me anything you find out, and I’ll text you if I need to speak to you. I’ll also text you where to meet on the thirtieth.”

Hayley took the phone with a shaking hand. She felt sick inside. She knew helping the police was a good thing…so why did it hurt so much? She just sat there, miserable, as Detective Blake stood up.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and left the café.

A tear slipped down her face. What had she done?

She sighed and looked down at the phone in her hand. She’d already received a text.

Adam

By the way I have ears everywhere. If anyone finds out about this arrangement I can make you disappear back to Russia faster than you can say Save me Luca.

She slammed the phone down. She wanted to cry out in frustration, but she didn’t. She was trapped. Even if she did try to tell Luca, he would only see her as a traitor.

If he had just answered his damn phone, then maybe this whole thing could have been avoided. But he didn’t. So for the next thirty days, she had a job to do.

LUCA

Luca sighed as he walked out of the meeting room where he’d left Arianna doing her hair. He’d found it difficult to get off, and Arianna had to get inventive.

His mind kept going to Hayley and how she kept calling him.

Nic was looking over the balcony when Luca came up beside him. Luca looked down at the bar Hayley normally worked at, but he didn’t see her.

“Hayley went home,” Nic said, answering Luca’s unspoken question. “She texted Ava that she was sick.” Nic turned to look at something, and Luca followed his gaze.

One of his men was walking up to the VIP lounge, and his white shirt was covered in blood. It looked like he’d been stabbed.

“Max! What the fuck happened to you?” Nic asked.

Max laughed at his reaction. “It’s fake blood. Me and a girl got a little freaky.” He lifted his shirt to reveal a punctured bag that contained red liquid, then went to sit in a booth with the other Marcello men.

Arianna must have finished with her hair because she stalked past without a word and went down the stairs.

“She seems pissed,” Nic said.

Luca shrugged but said nothing. How could he admit he couldn’t fuck a girl because his mind was preoccupied with Hayley?

When Nic went back to the booth where Frankie was, Luca pulled out his phone and considered calling Hayley back. But he didn’t.

He thought of the bullet with her name on it—he thought of the world he lived in—and he knew he couldn’t risk loving her. He wasn’t good enough for her and never would be.