Page 8 of Fractured Devotion

Just as I was gearing up to dig deeper into who her husband was, the very man I’d been searching for materialized behind her. The exchange of glances between them was intimate, filled with an unspoken language of love. It was an emotional scene, one that tugged at my heartstrings. Their connection, so apparent, served as a bittersweet reminder of something I feared was beyond my reach now that Alex was dead. Watching them, I felt a twinge of envy, mingled with a sense of longing for a connection that might forever elude me.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t catch your name,” the woman said, breaking their kiss and turning back to face me.

“I’m Ela,” I found myself saying, the lie slipping out smoothly, as if it was second nature. I turned to face her with practiced ease, curiosity etched subtly on my features. “And what’s your name?”

“Addison Nash,” she replied, her smile lighting up her face as she gestured toward the sexy man beside her. “And this here is Ryker, my husband.” Their hands found each other in a seamless, familiar gesture, their fingers intertwining naturally. As she did, a mischievous yet charming smirk played across her lips, a spark of playful energy in her eyes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ryker. Your wife was just telling me about your boxing career.” It was a dance of words, each one carefully chosen so as not to let on my true purpose for probing him about his career. There was a clue here, one I wasn’t about to let go of.

Ryker tensed for a moment, a fleeting shadow crossing his face before he masked it with a forced smile. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m here for the big knockout match this weekend.”

“Who’s backing you in the ring? Most fighters here seem to have some big-name sponsor. I’ve met a few others, but they were too arrogant for my liking. The young ones especially, all swagger, no sense,” I prodded, curious about his affiliations.

Ryker let out a genuine, deep laugh. “You hit the nail on the head. Truth is, I wouldn’t be here if not for… certain circumstances beyond my control.”

He reached for Addison, gently pulling her off her stool. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to steal my wife away. I owe her some alone time.”

“Absolutely, go ahead. Congrats again. Maybe we’ll cross paths another time, Addison,” I said with a friendly nod.

She giggled, a carefree sound, as Ryker guided her toward the exit.

I watched them, a sense of intrigue building inside me. As they reached the door, I tensed. Standing before Ryker was the very man I had been searching for—Lipovsky. Their exchange was tense, clear even from my distance. Ryker stood protectively, placing Addison behind him, his finger jabbing accusingly at Lipovsky’s chest. Lipovsky merely chuckled, brushing past Ryker with a deliberate shoulder bump.

As Lipovsky headed in my direction, I stood up abruptly. Leaving my change on the bar, I quickly left, heading the opposite way. Confrontation was tempting, but timing was everything. I needed to understand Ryker’s role in all this, whether he was a player or if Lipovsky had some leverage over him, making him a mere pawn in his twisted game. The scene I’d just witnessed hinted at coercion, and that made this mission even more personal. I loathed men who used threats to control others, and Lipovsky was a master of such tactics.

If he was indeed manipulating Ryker into fighting for his gain, I was determined to uncover it. Somehow, the fight and Lipovsky’s trafficking empire were entwined—I just didn’t know how. Didn’t matter, though. I was going to figure out the connection. Then I’d use that information to dismantle his empire. For every life he’d ruined, every soul he’d tormented, I would make sure he paid—tenfold.

five

ALEX

We gathered around the worn table in the dimly lit back room of Bellissimo, Vincenzo’s restaurant. Massimo, my friend and the head of the Anastasi family, sat in silence as I relayed the information I had gathered. His expression remained indifferent, but I could sense the simmering rage beneath the surface.

As I recounted the initial meeting with Drake Winston, Massimo’s reaction unfolded, just as I had expected. Both men harbored a visceral hatred for Lipovsky, their shared enemy. Drake had revealed the harrowing ordeal of his fiancée’s brush with death, followed by his brother’s entanglement with a man closely tied to Lipovsky.

With each detail I revealed, the tension in the room grew palpable. The vein in Massimo’s temple pulsed with restrained fury. He was seething with anger—and rightfully so. Lipovsky’s actions had torn apart the very fabric of the Anastasi family, stealing Carmela away and nearly snuffing out the lives of Celestina and her innocent child. The desire for vengeance burned fiercely within Massimo, and retribution would be swift and merciless.

In that solemn moment, surrounded by the shadows of the back room, the stage was set for a reckoning of epic proportions. As Massimo’s gaze hardened with determination, I knew that no force on earth could stand in the way of his brand of justice that was about to be unleashed upon Lipovsky and his accomplices.

“We’ve received intel suggesting there’s another player in the game,” Massimo’s voice cut through the tension in the room like a knife. “She’s been linked to the deaths of several key figures in trafficking circles. The latest hit occurred just two weeks ago. Rumor has it she’s right here in Vegas.”

“Here?” I felt a jolt of adrenaline surge through me, causing me to sit up straighter in my seat. “In Vegas?” I echoed, my mind racing with possibilities.

“Yes,” Massimo affirmed with a solemn nod. “A man was found dead in his hotel room at the El Cortez. It was a professional hit—so clean, it could almost be mistaken for Vincenzo’s work if I didn’t know he was retired. Whoever carried out the deed was skilled with a blade.”

His words hung heavy in the air, stirring a whirlwind of thoughts in my mind. Could this mysterious woman be Carmela? Was she the elusive Angel of Mercy, the avenging force I’d heard whispers of in the underworld? Hope surged within me at the possibility that she was finally within reach.

“If this woman is truly here,” I declared, my voice firm with determination, “then I need to find her.”

“I figured you’d say as much, but first,”—Massimo stood as the doors opened—“we need to understand what part Ryker plays in this whole thing.”

The moment he crossed the threshold, a captivating woman with chestnut brown locks cascading down her shoulders and the most mesmerizing green eyes I’d ever seen made her way to his side. They paused next to the table, an aura of tension enveloping them.

“Brother… what’s happening here?” Ryker, with a mix of confusion and surprise, shifted his gaze between Dallas and Drake. “Why is he here, and who are all these people?”

“Ryker, sit down.” Dallas urged, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “We’ll explain everything to you. As for who that is, meet Massimo Anastasi.”

Massimo, extending his arm across the table, offered a handshake. “Ryker. I’m sorry we’re meeting like this, but I’ll cut to the chase. We’re here to talk to you about Aleski Lipovsky.”

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