Page 79 of Cat and Mouse

"He's alive," I tell her, my voice soft. "He's hurt, but he's alive."

"Oh, thank God." She closes her eyes, sagging against me.

I hold her tighter, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I love you," I murmur against her skin. "But you have to stop trying to die on me."

She lets out a weak laugh, her fingers tangling in my shirt. "I'll do my best," she says, her voice breaking a little. "But you make it hard."

I chuckle softly, resting my forehead against hers. "Yeah, well, I tend to have that effect on people."

We sit there for a moment, the chaos fading around us. Marco is dead, his men scattered or bleeding out. I've won. I've finally fucking won. But as I look at Elizabeth, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and fear, I realize I've lost something, too. I've lost the chance to keep her safe from this life.

But I'll make it right. I'll take her away, give her the peace she deserves.

"I'm scared, Leo," she whispers, her voice trembling again. "What if... what if this never ends?"

"It ends now," I say firmly. "I promise you, Elizabeth. This is over. No one will ever hurt you again. Not while I'm breathing."

She nods, but I can see the doubt lingering in her eyes. I can't blame her. After everything we've been through, trust is hard to come by.

But I'll prove it to her. I'll show her that she and our child are my priority now. Nothing else matters.

Not revenge. Not power.

Just her.

Chapter 23 - Matteo

Captain Harris's voice drones on, but my mind is somewhere else. I've been shot at too many damn times, and it's getting old. Two days since the last one, and I'm already itching to get out of here. I should be home, but no—I'm stuck in this station. Why? Because I'm the only one left alive. At least, that's what NYPD thinks.

Elizabeth Kane is dead, or so they believe. Detective Elizabeth Kane, hero, the woman who tracked down the Phantom. They'll give her a medal for her "sacrifice."

But I know better.

Elizabeth isn't dead. She's in Sicily, living under a new name, with Leo. The NYPD, though, thinks Marco Rossiani and Mike Russo are ashes now, alongside Detective Kane. The truth is far messier than that. We torched the damn place, yeah, but it was all part of the plan.

I shift in my seat, ignoring the ache from the bandage wrapped around my side. The bullet grazed me—thank God for that. Could've been worse. I glance up at Harris, who's still going on about "heroism" and "sacrifice." He has no clue what really happened in that warehouse.

Flames, smoke, gunfire. It all went up so fast, and before I could blink, they were calling it a massacre. Marco's men, the cops, all gone. And Elizabeth? They think she burned with them.

Bullshit.

I almost snort, but I catch myself. That would've been hard to explain. Instead, I settle into my chair, trying not to look likeI've got one foot out the door. The truth? I'm only here because of Leo. My cousin's in Sicily, prepping for the birth of his kid, starting fresh with Elizabeth. But someone had to stick around and deal with the fallout. That someone? Me.

Now I'm stuck between two worlds—acting capo of the men Leo left behind and detective of the NYPD. How the hell did I end up here?

"Matteo?" Captain Harris calls my name, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, Cap?" I look up, feigning interest.

"I asked if you had anything to add about the case."

Case. Right. The Phantom.

"Nah," I shrug. "You pretty much covered it."

Harris nods, oblivious. He's buying the whole story—the one we spun to keep Elizabeth safe. It's a good cover, airtight even. The city thinks the Phantom's been taken care of, and the NYPD gets to play the hero card with Elizabeth's name plastered all over it. Meanwhile, she's in a Sicilian villa.

"You're dismissed, detective," Harris says, turning back to the others. "We'll continue tomorrow."

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