Vengeful Secret (The Burkes Mafia #3)

1. Sutton

1

SUTTON

The gunshot wakes me up. Looking all around me, my heart pumping in my chest,

I take a couple of seconds to realize it was all a dream. A horrible dream.

I sit up in a very empty bed, rubbing the remains of my nightmare from my eyes. Dodging a hitman's bullet while grabbing my daughter to hide is a recurring fear that haunts me when sleep takes me over.

I’m safe. I’m okay. Life is simple.

A mantra. A truth. A reality I created for myself when I decided to become a single mother.

Five years ago, my life was a lot more exciting with Ciara’s father, but that wasn’t the life for me.

It’s not like I don’t still miss it... miss him . I do.

But Ciara is safe and happy, and even if that makes my life a little less fun, it’s worth it.

Over the next few minutes, my heartbeat slows and my breathing calms.

“Mommy, I can’t find my other shoe!” Ciara’s voice echoes down the hall, urgent and slightly panicked.

I can’t help but smile as I get up and head to the kitchen. It’s the same drill every day.

“Have you looked in the closet, the bottom shelf?”

“Found it!” Whirlwind Ciara enters the kitchen a minute later, holding up the errant shoe triumphantly. She’s dressed in a whimsical dress covered in tiny dinosaurs, because why not? Dinosaurs can be fashionable too, right?

“Good job, honey.” I slide a plate of sliced apple wedges across the table to her designated spot. She climbs into her chair, legs dangling.

Pushing her apples aside to grab her juice, she asks, “Are we still going to Granny’s after school?”

I turn to her with mock sternness, my tone light. “As long as you promise not to eat too many cookies again.”

“But I love cookies!”

As we pull up to the red brick building, the school playground hums with early morning energy.

She unbuckles and hops out, clutching her bag. Her small hand slips into mine, a mix of independence and attachment. I relish these moments of connection.

“Kiss for luck?” I bend to her level.

She pecks my cheek, her kiss sticky and sweet. “Love you, Mommy!”

“Love you too, kiddo. See you after school.”

She darts off, merging into the crowd of tiny explorers.

Back in the car, silence surrounds me, a stark contrast to the morning’s chaos. I exhale, gathering myself for the day ahead.

The list is endless, the hours too few, the juggle is constant, but the rewards? Immeasurable.

Fifteen minutes later, I sink into my desk chair. As I settle in, the scent of freshly brewed coffee drifts over from my mug. I take a sip, then check my emails, sifting through a mix of client requests and project updates.

My fingers fly over the keyboard.

What feels like hours later, my shoulders burn and as I stretch, my eyes catch a framed photo on the edge of the desk. It’s me and Ciara at the park, her face smeared with a mixture of chocolate and unbridled joy.

My heart clenches.

The personal parts of my life had to be pushed aside when I learned about being pregnant with my baby.

For four years, I’ve done nothing but work and care for Ciara.

Focus, Sutton. This is your life now, and the choice was yours and yours alone.

Not the right choice for some, but the choice I made to protect the most important people in my life. Both my baby and, in a way, her father.

A father who knows nothing about her. A man I have loved for years now and force myself to stay as far away from as possible.

The house is quiet, the absence of Ciara’s chatter almost deafening. Too quiet. A stark reminder that I have no one here for me.

I need to find a balance, a way to integrate my personal life without letting it consume me.

I lean back in my chair, the weight of reality pressing on my already sore shoulders.

I’ve been running on empty, neglecting myself in the process. My life has become a constant juggle between work and motherhood, leaving no room for 'me.'

But that is a worry for another time. For now, there’s work to do.

Except the pang of loneliness and yearning lingers.

“How’s it going, mo stóirin ?” I smile as I look at Ciara climbing into her seat in the rearview mirror when I pick her up from school.

She’s just started preschool, and so far, she loves it.

“I had the best day.”

My smile grows wider. “Yeah? Tell me all about it.”

Ciara goes into a rambling story about finding a butterfly outside during recess and naming it Mr. Blue and how it made her lots of friends because it seemed to like her.

I chuckle. “Where is Mr. Blue now?”

“He flew away,” she says glumly, but then she smiles. “But I bet he’ll be back tomorrow.”

I hum. “Of course he will, sweetie.”

I hope she’s not too disappointed when she realizes butterflies can’t be pets, but at the moment, there’s no reason to burst her bubble.

Pulling up to my mother’s house, I’m not surprised to find her outside waiting for us. She envelops Ciara in a warm hug.

“And how’s my little artist today?”

“Granny! I made a dragon that breathes sparkles, and I made friends with Mr. Blue!” Ciara bounces on her toes.

“Did you now? That sounds wonderful.” She lifts an inquisitive eyebrow at me.

I shake my head and smile. “Mr. Blue is a butterfly that played recess with Ciara.”

Ciara nods. “All of my friends wanted to play with him, but he chose me!”

“That’s so nice of him.” My mom’s eyebrows fly to the line of her hair, but she just smiles and ushers Ciara into the kitchen. “How was your day, Sutton?”

“Oh, you know...busy, as usual.” I shrug.

“Oh honey, you need a break. It’s good you’re getting out tonight,” Mom says. “Maybe you’ll meet a nice guy.”

I look up at my mother, startled by her words. “I don’t know about that.”

“They’re out there, Sutton. I promise. You know, you deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy,” I insist. “I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

Maybe someday my heart will heal, but today is not that day.

“Still, it’ll be good to get some time to yourself, so go out and have fun.”

The thought of venturing outside my well-established routine is daunting. “It's been ages since...”

“Let tonight be different. You deserve it. You’ve been cooped up with work and Ciara for too long.”

I nod, walking over and giving Ciara a big kiss and then turn and hug the woman who raised me. “Thanks, Mom.”

As I walk out, I wave to her, and she waves back.

When I get into the car, it’s like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

It's been months since I took a night off. Wasn’t I just thinking I needed balance? My social life has dwindled down. I've turned down invitation after invitation, always having some excuse.

Maybe tonight I can actually have some fun.

It’s time to remind myself of just who Sutton McIntyre is, and tonight seems like the perfect opportunity.

I have to admit I am a little nervous about going out. It’s been so long since I’ve been anywhere but work or home, even if I have good reason.

I take my time, shaving what needs to be shaved and washing my hair twice before putting in some leave-in conditioner.

My bare face looks tired, lines around my mouth, and I frown as I put on my foundation.

I need to start a new skincare routine, or something. I’m not getting any younger, and being a single mom seems to be taking its toll on me.

But after just a few minutes and some blending, I’m transformed into the girl I once was—the girl I was before I had my heart broken, that is. At least on the outside.

Inside is a much different story. Once I was young and free. Once I had dreams of having a family, love, having a life that most would consider normal. But life doesn’t always work the way you wish it would.

I wonder if that girl is gone forever. That girl, bright-eyed, shining, so madly in love that she couldn’t see straight. She wanted a whole different life. A fairy tale.

Shaking my head at my younger-self’s naiveté, I look in the closet to see what I have available for a night out. Most of my wardrobe is neutral colors, but there’s a red dress way in the back that I think will pair well with a pair of black pumps. It’s a simple dress, but there’s a plunging neckline and a slit up one side, so it makes it look a little sexier.

And I need sexier today. Even if it is just for me.

As I zip it up, I look in the mirror, feeling good about the way that I look for once.

I slide into my favorite heels, the ones that make my legs look longer but are still mercifully comfortable.

Grabbing my clutch, I head downstairs.

The house feels eerily quiet without Ciara’s laughter filling the space. I force a smile, reminding myself that tonight is about me reconnecting with the world I paused for my daughter and my work.

The drive to meet my friends is filled with the pop hits playing on the radio.

I’m excited to meet with them but also nervous, and I’m not sure which emotion will win out in the end. By the time I arrive, it’s more nerves than excitement, I think.

My stomach rolls as I pull into the parking garage near the strip.

I walk out to see Sarah, one of my best friends, waving me over to a bar with a neon sign—Tess's Tavern.

My breath catches in my throat. The strip is full of bars and clubs, yet this is the one they chose?

The bar where I met Ciara’s father.

Memory washes over me like a tidal wave as I stand frozen on the other side of the street.

All the things we shared along the time we were together. The way he’d pull me close. The way he’d whisper sweet promises in my ears. Promises I had run away from.

For the first time in years, I allow myself to think about him—where he might be. Who he might be now.

Five years is a long time, after all.

Is he married? Does he have a couple of kids? Does Ciara have siblings?

Sarah frowns at me, walking toward me.

I force myself to snap out of it. “Focus, Sutton. Tonight is about friends, not old ghosts.”

Tonight is a chance to reclaim a piece of myself.

I force myself to smile and cross the street to greet my old friend. She wears a slinky black skirt with a white crop-top that shows off her brown skin and honey-colored eyes.

“You look amazing,” she gushes, gesturing toward my dress, and I flush, smiling at her.

“You do, too, Sarah. But of course, you always do.”

“But of course.” She grins. flipping her long black curls behind one shoulder. “Rose and Marisa are inside, let’s go!”

She takes my arm, and we walk into the bar, heading toward the table where our other two friends are already sitting. Neither of them has a drink, so I hail the server.

“First round is on me.”

The girls cheer, and I order a round of vodka shots for the table.

Rose whistles. “Starting off strong, are we?”

“I haven’t been out in what feels like a century.” I chuckle. “I’m not planning to get wasted, but I want to let my hair down.”

“That’s understandable,” Marisa says, and I’m a bit surprised to hear her speak up. She’s always been the quiet one of the group. “We’ve missed you, Sutton.”

I soften, swaying toward her until my shoulder bumps hers. “Missed you guys, too.”

Back in high school, we’d been a close-knit group, having sleepovers and carpooling to school together, sneaking out on Saturday nights when one or all of us were grounded. A special bond between us.

I hope to recapture it, at least for the night.

Having my girls around seems like exactly what I need to get my mind off... well, everything.

It’s much warmer inside the bar than it was in the crisp air outside, and the vodka burns down my throat, but in a good way.

“Are you looking for a man tonight, Marisa?” Sarah teases, and Marisa flushes a deep red.

It’s not hard to get her to blush, especially since she’s an Irish redhead with freckles and porcelain skin, and shy to boot.

Sarah and Rosa have always been the outgoing, wild ones, while Marisa and I are quieter and more reserved.

I can get wild, mind you, given the right people and the right atmosphere, but Marisa is always a little dimmed. It’s just the way she is.

“Are you?” Marisa shoots back dryly, and Sarah scoffs.

“ I’m looking for a man,” Rosa points out.

I frown. “Thought you had a man?”

Rosa presses her lips together in a thin line. “Thought I did, too. Until I caught him texting his ex.”

I gasp. “Jorge? He really did that?”

Jorge had always seemed to have eyes only for Rosa. They’d been off and on since high school, and sure, Rosa had seen other people on their off weeks, but I would never have imagined Jorge to stray. Especially since the last I heard, things were going great between them.

“Yeah.”

Sarah puts an arm around her.

Marisa puts her hand on Rosa’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Rosa. You deserve better.”

“Hell yes, she does,” Sarah states. “I’ll buy us another round. Mixed drinks?”

“Cosmos,” Marisa suggests, and I grin.

There’s nothing like a good cosmopolitan.

Let the fun begin. No more thinking about Ciara’s father.

He’s not in my life or hers, and he never will be.

That was my choice five years ago. Now I have to live with it.