Cat and Mouse (New York Mafia Syndicate #1)

Chapter 18 - Leo

I kick the front door open, carrying her in my arms like some goddamn hero in a cheesy action movie. Elizabeth glares at me, squirming like she thinks she can just walk it off.

"Put me down, Leo," she snaps, her hands pushing against my chest. "I'm not an invalid."

"I know you're not," I mutter, stepping over the threshold and kicking the door shut behind me. I can feel her wince every time my foot hits the floor, but she keeps quiet. Stubborn as hell. I take her straight to the couch, ignoring her huffs and complaints. "But humor me, will ya?"

She crosses her arms, glaring up at me. "I don't need to be carried around like some princess."

"Trust me, you don't look like a princess right now," I smirk, running my eyes over her—dirt smudged on her face, face creased with pain. Tough. "You look like someone who almost got killed."

"Thanks for the compliment." She rolls her eyes. "By the way… how rich are you exactly?"

I laugh, not expecting the question. "That's what you wanna know? After everything?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Seems like a good time to ask. You have guards, private security, a fancy car. Should I be worried?"

I glance over my shoulder as Matteo walks in, a glass of whiskey in hand, looking like he's stepped out of a noir film. He takes a sip, eyes on Elizabeth.

"You alright?" he asks, sounding casual, but there's an edge to his voice. He knows tonight was too damn close.

Elizabeth's eyes widen, then narrow. "Officer Matteo?" She pushes herself off the couch, wobbling a little. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Before she can storm over to him, I catch her arm. "Liz, we can explain later. It's the middle of the night, and you just got attacked. Let's get ahead of this."

"I don't need you—" she starts, but I'm done with the arguing. In one quick motion, I lift her over my shoulder like a caveman.

"Leo! Put me down!" She pounds her fists against my back, but I ignore her.

"Give me at least 30 minutes," I say over my shoulder as I carry her toward my bedroom. "Then we'll talk. Just… relax, alright?"

She's still cursing me out when I set her down on the bed. I ignore the way she glares at me like she wants to stab me. I lock the door behind me as I leave and find Matteo waiting in the hallway with a couple of my men. The tension in the air is thick, almost suffocating.

"How is she?" Matteo asks, looking past me toward the bedroom.

"She'll be fine," I say, running a hand through my hair. "Shaken. But she'll pull through."

Matteo takes another sip of his whiskey, his eyes narrowing. "You sure it's a good idea for a cop to be staying here? She's gonna ask questions, Leo."

I jab a finger into his chest, not caring about the damn uniform he wears. "The force is fucking useless, Matteo. She could've died tonight."

Matteo doesn't flinch, just stares at me like he's used to this. "You think it's Rossiani?"

"There's no one else." My voice is low, more dangerous than I intend. "That bastard must've made the connection between me and her… or her and Whitmore. Either way, she's not leaving my sight."

Matteo exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright. What do you want me to do?"

"Gather some of our men. Patrol her place. If anyone so much as breathes near that building, I wanna know."

He nods. "Consider it done."

I step back, letting out a long breath. "I know you've been through a lot, Matteo."

He shakes his head, meeting my eyes with that unwavering loyalty I've come to expect from him. "Boss, anything for you."

With that, he heads out, and I'm left standing there, heart still racing from the thought of what could've happened tonight. She could've been killed.

I unlock the door and go back into the bedroom, my mind buzzing with everything. When I step in, she's sitting at the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around herself like she's trying to hold everything together. I swallow hard.

"Hey, Lizzie," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

She stands up, eyes blazing. "What the hell is Matteo doing here? Is he the mole?"

I sigh, running my hands over my face. "Sit."

"I'm not sitting," she snaps, crossing her arms. "I want answers."

"Liz—"

"Now, Leo."

I stare at her, and something in me cracks. "I'll give you answers, I promise. But first…" I take a step closer, my eyes scanning her body. "I need to make sure you're okay."

I reach for her, my hands shaking as they check her arms, her face. I don't know what I'm looking for—some reassurance, something to tell me she's just fine. She catches my hands, and for a second, we're both frozen.

"Leo," she says softly, pulling my hand to her chest. "Look at me. I'm here."

Her heart beats steady beneath my palm, and my breathing begins to calm, the knot in my stomach slowly unraveling.

"I thought—" I start, but my voice breaks. "I thought he'd gotten to you. After my father… Cazzo . I can't lose you, too."

She steps closer, her breath warm against my neck. "I'm here," she whispers again, her lips brushing the base of my throat. "You kept me safe."

I can't help it. The truth tumbles out of my mouth before I can stop it. "He killed my father. And I thought you were next."

She goes still, her hand frozen on my chest. "Leo…" she whispers, her voice catching. "I'm so sorry."

I pull her closer, burying my face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her. "You're here," I murmur.

Her lips press against the side of my neck, sending a wave of warmth through me. "I'm here," she says again, more firmly this time, like she's trying to cement the idea into my head. "I'm not going anywhere."

I cup her face, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. Her lips part, but no words come out. Instead, she leans in and kisses me softly, her hands sliding into my hair, grounding me, anchoring me to this moment.

I pull away first, breathless. "Liz, I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

"I'm here, Leo," she repeats, her voice steady and strong now. "You're stuck with me."

I laugh, shaking my head. "You're a stubborn pain in the ass, you know that?"

She grins, her eyes softening for the first time since we got back here. "Yeah but you love it."

I nod, pulling her back into my arms, needing her close, needing to feel her. "You're damn right I do."

The room goes quiet, the weight of everything sinking in. I sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her down beside me. We sit there in silence, her hand still resting on my chest, and for the first time tonight, I let myself relax.

"Leo?" she asks after a long pause, her voice soft, hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"What is Matteo doing here?"

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. "He's my cousin."

"So he's your mole?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure Matteo's not Rossiani's mole?"

I shake my head. "No. Someone in your force is obviously working with Marco, but it's not him."

"You trust him?"

I hesitate, my fingers brushing through her hair. "I trust him with my life."

She nods, resting her head on my shoulder. "I don't know what's going on, but I trust you."

I kiss the top of her head, my chest tightening. "We'll figure it out, Liz. I promise."

She leans back, eyes narrowed. "Good. Because I'm pregnant."

The words are a punch to the gut. The room tilts. Pregnant? I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Pregnant? How?

She notices the shock and shifts a little. "Leo… say something."

I blink, clearing the fog. "How… how did this happen?"

Her eyes flick away, embarrassed. "I guess I wasn't as careful as I thought. I just found out, too. It's pretty early." She looks up, almost hesitant. "Are you mad?"

"Mad?" I shake my head, even though I'm still processing. "No, Liz. I'm not mad. I'm just... shocked. I mean, tonight I almost lost you. Now, it's not just you—it's our baby. And that... that's unraveling me."

Her lip quivers, her eyes glassy. She takes a deep breath. "I don't know, Leo. I don't know if I'm keeping it. What are we doing here?" Her voice breaks, and I can hear the weight of everything behind it—this life, this mess, her job, me.

I let out a shaky breath, shifting closer to her. "I don't know, either. But I do know I don't want to lose you. Not now, not ever." My lips find hers, slow and deliberate. It's tender, but with every second, it grows more desperate, more filled with the unspoken words neither of us has the courage to say.

My hands slide to the hem of her shirt, lifting it gently. "Let me take care of you," I whisper, fingers brushing her skin. Her breath hitches as I undress her, piece by piece, with all the care I can muster, careful not to hurt her leg. There's something almost reverent about the way I touch her tonight. She's everything.

She's mine.

I push her back onto the bed, trailing kisses down her neck, over her collarbone. The room is quiet except for the sounds we make together—soft, breathy gasps, the shift of fabric, the steady rhythm of us moving in sync. It's not rough or rushed. It's... different, like I'm trying to memorize her, every inch, every sound, every reaction.

After, she curls into me, her skin still warm, her body relaxed but her mind still clearly racing. My hand slides over her stomach, protective, possessive. She's carrying my child.

"Lizzie," I say softly, not wanting to break the silence but knowing I need to. "I have a plan."

She tilts her head, eyebrow raised. "You have a plan?" Her voice is teasing, but there's a hardness behind it. "This should be good."

I exhale slowly, pulling her closer. "Rossiani's coming for you. There's no question about that now. The only way to keep you safe is for me to claim you."

Her eyes snap to mine, confusion laced with disbelief. "What do you mean, 'claim me'? I'm not some possession, Leo."

I shake my head, rubbing my thumb over her hand. "No, that's not what I mean. Listen... if the other gangs think you're my mole in the NYPD, then no one would touch you. Not without making it look like a direct attack on me. And Rossiani wouldn't risk that. Attacking you would be like spitting in my face. He's too careful for that."

She looks at me like I've just spoken in another language. "Leo... what exactly are you saying?"

I kiss her palm, then lower it to her stomach, pressing it gently there. "I think I'm going to marry you."

She stares at me, her mouth slightly open. "You've lost your goddamn mind."

"Maybe," I say with a grin that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "But think about it. If we're married, no one would dare touch you. It's protection. That's all."

She pulls back slightly, eyes narrowing. "I'm a detective, Leo. If I do this, I lose every ounce of credibility I've built in the force. My career, everything I've worked for, gone."

I sit up, turning to face her fully. "Liz, I'd rather you lose your job than your life. Rossiani killed a captain, someone high up in your ranks. What do you think he'd do to you if he gets his hands on you?"

Her jaw tightens, and she looks away. "You promised to keep me safe," she says softly, her voice shaking just a little.

I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "And that's exactly what I'm trying to do. This is the only way." The room feels heavy with tension, thick with unspoken words. My gut twists as I say the next part because I know how much she values her career, her independence. "We don't have to get really married. Just... enough to buy us some time until I deal with Marco. Okay?"

She stares at me for a long moment, biting her lip. "Okay," she finally whispers, the word barely audible.

I feel the weight in my chest lighten just a fraction.

"When?" she asks, her voice stronger now.

"Tomorrow," I say without hesitation. There's no point in waiting, not with the threat of Marco hanging over us.

She shakes her head, laughing a little. "This is insane."

"I know."

"You're insane."

"I know."

But when she looks at me, there's something in her eyes—something I haven't seen before. Trust? Hope? Hell, I don't know what it is, but it makes me pull her back into my arms and kiss her again. This time, it's rougher, more urgent. My fingers tangle in her hair as I hold her against me, feeling her heartbeat against my chest.

She sighs into my mouth, her body softening as she presses against me. And in that moment, nothing else matters. Not Rossiani. Not the NYPD. Not the insanity of what we're about to do.

It's just her and me.

Tomorrow, everything changes. But for tonight, I just want her.