Chapter 7 - THE LAST TIME RAYMOND TOUCHED HER
The meeting happened under federal supervision.
Not alone.
Not secretly.
Raymond simply believed it was.
He chose an abandoned office space in Red Hook.
Amelia wore a recording device.
Detective Russo's team waited nearby.
Vincent was specifically told not to come.
He hated that.
He obeyed.
Barely.
Amelia entered alone.
Raymond stood near a broken window.
“You came.”
“You knew I would.”
He smiled.
“You always did.”
“No.”
She closed the door.
“The old me did.”
His smile faded.
“I don't recognize you anymore.”
“Good.”
Raymond walked closer.
He looked older than he had in her apartment.
Tired.
Desperate.
“Federal agents are building everything around those recordings.”
“You built it.”
“You recorded private conversations.”
“You shouldn't have discussed crimes beside the woman you considered too stupid to understand them.”
His jaw tightened.
“Mia.”
“Amelia.”
“You're enjoying this.”
“No.”
“Don't lie.”
She looked at him.
“I wanted to.”
His expression shifted.
“I imagined you losing everything. Being afraid. Begging.”
She shook her head.
“But now I mostly want you away from me.”
That hurt him more.
“You think Castellano loves you?”
“This still isn't about Vincent.”
“It always is with men like that.”
Raymond stepped closer.
“He'll own you differently.”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because when I tell him no, he stops.”
Raymond stared.
That was something he could not understand.
“He'll get tired of you.”
“Maybe.”
“You'll come back.”
“No.”
“You always came back.”
“Because you controlled the money.”
Her voice strengthened.
“Because you threatened my sister.”
Another step.
“Because you convinced me nobody would believe me.”
Raymond's eyes became cold.
“Careful.”
There it was.
The word.
The tone.
The old magic.
Except the spell no longer worked.
Amelia smiled.
Raymond looked confused.
“You used to say that before you hit me.”
“Stop.”
“Careful.”
“Stop talking.”
“Don't embarrass me.”
His fists tightened.
“You're making me angry.”
Amelia's heart pounded.
But she continued.
“You make me do this.”
Raymond crossed the distance.
His hand clamped around her wrist.
The exact same place Derek had grabbed.
The exact same way Raymond had done a hundred times.
Her body screamed.
Freeze.
Submit.
Wait.
Amelia looked at his fingers.
Then at his face.
“No.”
Raymond tightened his grip.
“Don't.”
Amelia drove her knee into his thigh, twisted the way Russo had taught her, and ripped her wrist free.
Raymond stumbled.
Shock covered his face.
She stepped backward.
“Never touch me again.”
His face twisted with rage.
He lunged.
Federal agents rushed through both doors.
“FBI! HANDS!”
Raymond froze.
Amelia didn't.
She kept backing away until Russo reached her.
Raymond looked at the agents.
Then Amelia.
“You set me up.”
Amelia stared.
“No.”
That accusation had followed her for years.
You caused this.
You embarrassed me.
You made me angry.
You made me hit you.
Not anymore.
“You came here.”
Handcuffs closed around him.
“You threatened me.”
Agents led him toward the door.
“You grabbed me.”
Raymond shouted over his shoulder:
“You think this makes you strong?”
Amelia looked at him.
“No.”
He paused.
“Leaving did.”
Then he was gone.
Outside, Amelia's legs finally failed.
She sat on the curb.
Her hands shook violently.
Not because she regretted it.
Because courage did not erase fear.
A black car waited halfway down the block.
Vincent stood beside it.
He had respected the perimeter.
He had not come closer.
Amelia saw him.
He didn't move.
He waited for her decision.
She stood.
Walked toward him.
When she reached him, Vincent asked:
“Can I touch you?”
The question nearly broke her.
She nodded.
He opened his arms.
Amelia stepped into them.
For the first time in years, being held did not feel like being trapped.
Vincent said nothing.
No promises.
No threats toward Raymond.
No declarations.
He simply stayed.
After several minutes Amelia pulled back.
“I kissed Raymond once after he broke my rib.”
Vincent's expression didn't change.
“I thought if I made him calm, I'd be safe.”
“You don't have to explain.”
“I know.”
She looked at him.
“That's why I'm telling you.”
Vincent waited.
“I don't know what this is.”
“Neither do I.”
“I don't want another man becoming the center of my life.”
“Good.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Good?”
“I don't want that job.”
A tiny smile appeared.
“What job do you want?”
Vincent looked at her for a long moment.
“One where sometimes you have dinner with me.”
“That sounded almost normal.”
“I practiced.”
She laughed.
Then Amelia did something that surprised them both.
She kissed him.
Once.
Briefly.
Then stepped back.
Vincent looked stunned.
“Don't make that face.”
“What face?”
“Like nobody has ever kissed you.”
“Not like that.”
Her cheeks warmed.
“Good night, Vincent.”
She turned.
“Amelia.”
She looked back.
He smiled.
“Dinner?”
She pretended to consider it.
“Ask me tomorrow.”
Behind them, Detective Russo shook her head.
“Unbelievable.”
Her partner looked confused.
“What?”
“We finally arrest a racketeering accountant and somehow I end up watching a romance.”
It wasn't a romance yet.
May you like
But for the first time, Amelia wasn't afraid that it might become one.
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