Page 41 of Secrets in the Dark

"Drop your weapon, Detective," Enzo repeated, his Italian accent thickening with stress. "I won't ask again."

I made the calculations instantly: Turn and shoot Enzo, giving Tommy the opening to slit Celia's throat. Surrender myweapon, losing our only advantage. Or option three—the high-risk play that might save us all.

"You know I can't do that, Enzo," I replied, keeping my gun steady on Tommy. "Just like I know you aren't here alone. My team has been tracking every communication between you and the Licatas for the last month. They're moving into position right now."

Uncertainty flickered across Enzo's face—a momentary tell that bought me precious seconds.

"He's bluffing," Tommy snarled. "If they had that kind of surveillance, they'd have moved on the merchandise already."

"Did we?" I asked, allowing myself a tight smile. "Check your phone, Enzo. See if Gianna's latest message came through."

The security chief's composure faltered as he glanced at his pocket. That quarter-second distraction was all I needed.

I lunged sideways, simultaneously firing a shot that clipped Enzo's shoulder while using my body to shield Celia from Tommy's knife. The blade sliced through my sleeve, drawing a line of fire across my forearm, but failed to reach anything vital.

Enzo staggered backward, dropping his weapon as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. The gun clattered to the catwalk floor, spinning toward the edge before stopping against a metal support.

"Federal agent!" I shouted, my badge now visible where I'd withdrawn it from inside my jacket. "Thomas Licata, you're under arrest!"

Tommy's eyes widened, his grip on Celia temporarily loosening in shock. She seized the opportunity, driving her elbow hard into his solar plexus. As he doubled over, gasping, I pressed my advantage, tackling him to the catwalk floor.

We crashed against the metal grating, Tommy fighting with the desperate strength of a cornered animal. He slashed wildly with his knife, the blade whistling past my ear as I twisted to avoid it. I locked my hand around his wrist, slamming it repeatedly against the metal walkway until the knife finally clattered free.

"You're making a mistake, Kane," Tommy wheezed, still struggling beneath me. "Vincent was right about you all along."

I flipped him onto his stomach, pulling his arms behind his back with enough force to make him grunt in pain. "That's Detective Kane to you."

Handcuffs clicked into place around his wrists, the sound oddly final amid the chaos. Only then did I dare look at Celia, still standing frozen a few feet away, one hand pressed to the shallow cut on her throat.

"Roman?" Her voice was barely audible. "You're a cop?"

"Detective. LVMPD, on loan to a federal task force." I secured Tommy, checking that Enzo remained incapacitated at the far end of the catwalk. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. The operation was classified."

"Classified," she echoed, the word hollow. "So everything was... was part of your cover?"

Before I could answer, Tommy began laughing—a bitter, mocking sound. "Oh, this is rich. The detective and the paralegal, both playing dress-up at the Jade Petal. Tell me, sweetheart, did he know who you were before he fucked you? Or was that just a bonus while he used you as bait?"

She flinched as if he'd slapped her. "Shut up."

"Celia Marshall," Tommy continued, eyes gleaming with malice. "Legal assistant at Bailey & Finch. The nobody whofound my brother's shadow ledger. Was it worth it? Watching your back, jumping at shadows, wondering when I'd finally—"

"I said shut up!" She stepped forward, and for a moment, I thought she might strike him.

"Ms. Marshall," I said formally, deliberately using her real name. "We need to move. Now."

The use of her actual identity seemed to snap her back to reality. Her spine straightened, chin lifting in defiance. "It's Celia," she said quietly. "And you're Roman Kane, not Roman King."

"Yes." The moment felt oddly intimate despite the circumstances—our true names finally spoken aloud, our real identities acknowledged.

A groan from the end of the catwalk interrupted the moment. Enzo was struggling to sit up, his security jacket darkening with blood where my bullet had grazed his shoulder.

"We need to get to the Dragon's Crown lounge," I told Celia, keeping my tone professional. "That's where the main operation is happening. Stay behind me."

"Not so fast," Tommy called from his prone position. "You're too late, Kane. The transfer started fifteen minutes ago. By now, the merchandise is already—"

The wail of an alarm cut through the air, followed immediately by the sound of multiple doors slamming open throughout the building.

"That would be my team," I said, allowing myself a grim smile of satisfaction. "Right on schedule."

---