James

At the end of my mental turmoil, I didn’t send any messages. What good would it have done? I was still a cop, and she was still the daughter of Dante Bologna. No matter how we looked at it, this thing between us had “complicated” written all over it from the start.  

    So, I guessed it was only natural that my heart was currently pounding like a jackhammer against my ribs. I was sitting in the car right outside of Paradiso with my gun and badge, about to walk into the restaurant and start questioning the Bologna brothers regarding Rio’s murder. 

    Vanessa’s silver Mercedes was parked right outside the...