All Chapters of Hunted Heart:The Mafia's Plaything.: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The ring sat on the nightstand for three days.Alex watched it from the bed, from the doorway, from the chair by the window where he sat in the mornings with coffee that went cold before he remembered to drink it. Vincenzo didn't mention it. Didn't reach for it. Didn't do anything but move through the house like nothing had changed, like he hadn't asked Alex to marry him, like Alex hadn't said yes.But something had shifted. Alex could feel it in the way Vincenzo looked at him now, the way his eyes lingered, the way his hands found excuses to touch. It wasn't the hunger of before. It was something quieter. Something that looked like waiting.On the third night, Alex picked up the box.Vincenzo was in the study, the door open, the light from the desk casting shadows across the hall. Alex walked down the stairs, the box in his hand, his feet bare on the cold wood. The house was quiet, the way it got after dark, the way it had been since they'd moved back in.He stopped in the doorway. V

The letter came on a Thursday.Alex found it in the mailbox at the end of the driveway, wedged between a catalog and a bill for something he didn't remember ordering. The envelope was thick, the kind that came from government offices, the return address stamped in black ink that had bled into the fibers.He knew what it was before he opened it. He'd been expecting it for weeks, ever since Cole called to say the investigation was closed, that the department was ready to put everything behind them, that they wanted him back.The letter inside was formal, the language careful, the kind of words that had been written by someone who had spent years learning how to say nothing with confidence. But the meaning was clear enough.The Department of Police is pleased to offer you the position of Detective First Grade, with a promotion to Lieutenant pending review.Alex folded the letter, tucked it back into the envelope. The paper was warm in his hands, the weight of it lighter than he expected.

The morning of the wedding, it rained.Alex stood at the window of the bedroom, watching the water streak down the glass, listening to it drum against the roof. The garden below was blurred, the fountain lost in the gray, the roses Vincenzo had spent months coaxing back to life bending under the weight of it. His mother had said rain on a wedding day was good luck. He wasn't sure he believed in luck anymore. But he believed in this.The suit was laid out on the bed behind him. Not the one Vincenzo had sent him months ago, the one that had hung in his apartment closet like a promise he hadn't known how to keep. This one was new. Dark gray. Simple. The kind of thing a man wore when he was choosing a life instead of falling into one.His mother knocked, came in without waiting. She was dressed already, a blue dress she'd bought for the occasion, her hair pinned up the way she used to wear it when he was a child."You're going to be late," she said.Alex turned from the window. "It's my w

The office was cold. Chen had the thermostat set to something that made Alex's fingers numb, the air dry, the windows fogged at the edges. He sat across from the captain's desk, the same desk where Reeves had sat, where the Mayor had sat, where men who thought they were untouchable had signed papers that sent other men to prison. The photograph of Liam was new. It sat at the corner of the desk, facing Chen, the glass clean, the frame polished.Chen didn't offer coffee. Didn't offer a chair. Didn't offer anything but the file he'd opened in front of him, the pages spread across the wood, the photographs clipped to the inside cover. Alex recognized them before Chen turned them toward him. The warehouse. The body. The gun in his hand."You killed a federal agent," Chen said. His voice was flat, the kind of flat that came from a man who had said the same words so many times they'd lost their shape. "In cold blood. No witnesses. No evidence of self-defense. Just you, a gun, and a man who w

The FBI came for him at dawn.Alex was in the kitchen, coffee in hand, watching the light creep across the garden. His mother was still asleep. The house was quiet. The knock on the door was soft, almost polite, the kind of knock that came from people who had already decided how this was going to end.He set his cup down, walked to the door, opened it.Agent Reyes was standing on the porch. Behind her, two uniformed agents waited, their faces blank, their hands at their sides. She looked different than she had at the station. Smaller, somehow. Or maybe just tired. The file in her hand was thick, the pages inside marked with tabs that meant something to someone."Alex Marchetti," she said. "You're under arrest for the murder of federal agent Michael Vance."Alex looked at the file. At her face. At the agents who were already moving toward him, their hands reaching for his arms."I know," he said.---The ride to the federal building was quiet.Alex sat in the back of the car, his hands