He's her enemy. Her obsession. And the only man who has the power to destroy her.
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My name is Frank Monroe, and I am the most dangerous woman in Chicago. Not because I kill, but because I make it legal. I'm the lawyer the Irish mob calls when...
"Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, blood and revenge are hammering in my head."
- William Shakespeare
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Looking after my family, keeping them out of harm's way had always fallen to me.
It was more than a duty-it was the very core of every choice I made, the quiet rhythm behind my every move. I was the one who stood between them and the world, the one who made sure they were safe. But life has a cruel habit of testing even the most deeply held convictions.
And in this moment, it felt like I was coming up short.
For the first time, I had to place that sacred responsibility into the hands of someone else. Goat. A name that now held all the significance of everything I had spent years protecting.
Trust had never been a simple thing for me, least of all when it came to the people I would give my life for. But choices were scarce, and so I had to believe in him.
The moment Hector and I pulled into the driveway, Noah came rushing out of the house, his expression strained with fear.
"Did you find them...?" His voice caught, anxiety threading through every word. "Where are they?"
It felt like a blow.
His eyes were wide and full of questions, looking to me for answers I didn't have. I watched the understanding dawn on his face, a slow and painful realization that things weren't alright.
I tried to form a response, but my throat tightened around the words. What could I possibly say? How could I explain something I could hardly make sense of myself?
Before I could even attempt it, Hector stepped in smoothly.
"Noah! There you are!" His tone was warm and effortless, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had begun to settle around us. He placed a reassuring hand on Noah's shoulder, gently guiding him back toward the house as though it were any other afternoon.
Just like that, the tension dissolved.
I remained where I was, still caught in the grip of my own powerlessness. My chest felt constricted, my thoughts circling back to the moment I allowed Layla to walk out alone. Regret wrapped itself around me, holding on with a persistence that was difficult to shake. How had I let things come to this?
Eventually, I made my way inside and sank into the couch, letting my head rest against the cool leather. But no matter how I tried to quiet my mind, I couldn't keep the fears from creeping in, from taking hold and pulling me under.
Sawyer had already left to help Goat. All I could do now was hold onto the hope that they would succeed. Because in that moment, hope was the only thing I had left.
The silence in the room had begun to thicken once more when his voice found me, a low and steady sound that seemed to anchor me back to the present. "Hey," he said, and I could hear the careful softness in his words, a tone he reserved for moments when I was too fragile. "How are you really doing?"
