Page 53 of Forgotten Vows

"We're going to talk to some people who can help us," I tell him, trying to keep my voice steady, calm. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

I hold him close, his good arm wrapping around my neck, and we walk into the police station together.

The officer at the front desk looks up as we approach, his expression shifting from bored to concerned when he sees Matteo's cast and the sling. "Can I help you?" he asks, and his voice is kind and professional.

"I need to report a kidnapping." My voice is shaking, but I force the words out anyway. "And I have evidence of criminal activity. I need protection for me and my son."

The officer's eyes widen slightly, and he picks up the phone on his desk, speaking quietly into it. A moment later, a detective appears—a woman in her forties with short gray hair and sharp eyes.

"I'm Detective Addams," she says, extending her hand. "Why don't you come with me, and we can talk about what's going on."

She leads us to an interview room with a table and a few chairs, and a mirror on one wall that I know is two-way glass. Matteo sits beside me, his head resting against my arm, and I can feel him trembling.

"It's okay," I whisper to him. "We're safe now."

Detective Addams sits across from us, a notepad and pen in front of her. "Okay," she says gently. "Start from the beginning. Tell me what happened."

And I do.

I tell her about Gio. About the years of abuse and how he controlled every aspect of my life. I tell her about Lachlan and how he broke into the estate and took us, about the forced marriage, about the attack today that left my son injured and terrified. I feel the betrayal on my lips with every word, guilt flooding me as I condemnthe man who was once a sweet boy that I loved, but I don't know what else to do.

I could never have done this to the Lachlan I knew. But he's gone, and the man in his place is someone who scares me as much as he makes me want him, who is an echo of the person I loved. And I have a son.

No matter how awful it makes me feel to do this, I have to protect Matteo. That's what matters most now. If it means damning Lachlan, I have to live with it.

Still, I feel tears well in my eyes as I pull out the folder. My hands are shaking, and I want to run, to tell the detective I didn't mean any of it. Lachlan will be so hurt when he finds out what I've done. He won't be angry with me, or want to hurt me… he'll be devastated. Destroyed.

Shouldn't that tell you something? Gio would hurt you for something like this, but Lachlan would be broken by it. Isn't that proof they're different? That?—

I silence the voice in my head and push the folder toward Detective Addams, opening my phone to show her the photos as well. "This is evidence," I say, spreading the documents across the table. "Lachlan Gallagher runs the Irish mob in Chicago. These are records of his businesses—shipping companies, construction firms, nightclubs. They're all fronts. He's laundering money, trafficking weapons, God knows what else. I have photos of his ledgers too. Names, dates, transactions. Everything you need to arrest him."

Detective Addams is staring at the documents, her expression unreadable, and I can see her jaw tighten as she flips through the pages.

"Miss Santoro," she says finally, "I understand why you've brought me this. If what you're saying is true, this is a major case. But?—"

"It's true." I interrupt her quickly, my words coming sharp and fast. "I'm willing to testify. I'll tell you everything I know. I just need you to protect us. I need you to lock him up so he can't come after us."

She sits back, letting out a slow breath. She looks almost apologetic, and my heartbeat speeds up, a sense of dread filling the room. "Miss. Santoro, I understand you want protective custody. And I'm sympathetic to your situation, but?—"

The door opens. I look up, expecting another officer, maybe someone from protective services. But it's not.

It's Lachlan.

He's standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his expression calm and controlled. And behind him, I can see two uniformed officers, their faces carefully neutral.

My stomach drops.

"Adriana." His voice is soft, almost gentle, but there's an edge to it that makes my skin crawl. "What are you doing?"

"I—" I can't speak. My breath is caught in my lungs, my heart beating so fast I think it's going to come out of my chest. I look at Detective Addams, and suddenly the sympathy on her face makes perfect, horrible sense. Lachlan steps into the room, and the officers don't stop him. They just stand there, watching, and I realize with a sickening clarity that they're not going to help me.

They work for him. He's paid them off. With all that I know about this life, I don't know how I didn't expect that—except that some part of me still thinks of him as the boy I knew, who wouldn't have dirty cops in his pocket. I thought I'd realized what kind of man he is now, but clearly I hadn't… not all the way.

"Adriana," Lachlan says again. His blue eyes are cold and hard, but underneath, I can see that hurt that I knew would be there. "We need to talk."

"No." The word comes out as a whisper, and I pull Matteo closer, my arms wrapping around him. "No. You can't—they're supposed to protect us. They're supposed to?—"

"They work for me." His voice is matter-of-fact. "Most of them do. The ones who don't know better than to get involved."