When Heroes Fall (Anti-Heroes in Love 1)

I was giddy as we cabbed to the courthouse, my thigh bouncing with nerves the entire way.

Yara didn’t seem to share in my excitement. If anything, she seemed oddly morose, her eyes, when they met mine, almost sorry.

I didn’t understand until we were in the judge’s chambers.

Martin Hartford was wearing a suit, sitting in one of two leather chairs drinking a glass of brown liquor when we were allowed entry to the room.

In the other chair sat Dennis O’Malley.

I frowned at him as he tipped his own glass to me.

“Scotch?” he offered with that handsome stock smile, wooden around the edges.

“What is this?” I asked even though it wasn’t my place to do so.

“Martin and I were just catching up when you called,” Dennis explained mildly. “We’re old friends. What’s it been now, Marty? Twenty-two years?”

“Twenty-three,” he corrected.

“Twenty-three.” Dennis pointed at one of the old photos on Judge Hartford’s wall. “That’s the two of us as lowly first years at the DA’s office. We both worked on Reno Maglione’s case.”

Reno Maglione was one of the most prolific turncoats in American mafia history.

“We’ve been putting away the scum of the streets for a long time,” he continued, raising his glass for the judge to click it against his own. “Here’s to many more years, my friend.”

Beside me, Yara sighed softly.

“You met with Seamus Moore today,” I accused, shocked by the proceedings. “We’re demanding a mistrial on the basis that you’re directly involved with the Irish mob.”

“He was an informant,” he said with a shrug.

“That is not the proper way to meet an informant,” I reminded him, feeling heat build under my skin. “We will call you to testify to that fact on the stand, and you will be forced to recuse yourself. A lawyer representing a case cannot be a witness in the same trial.”

“Very good, Ms. Lombardi.” He laughed. “A plus student indeed. Only, this isn’t a mock trial. This is real life and real court. I’m certainly not going to recuse myself from this case. If we win this, I’m well on my way to being the next state senator.”

I looked at Judge Hartford incredulously, but his face was entirely placid.

“Fitzgerald’s term as mayor is almost up,” Dennis told us slyly, leaning forward to clap the judge on the knee. “I think Marty would be a shoo-in.”

Oh my God.

I couldn’t believe this.

It was beyond comprehension.

This was the kind of thing that happened in Italy, not in America. Wasn’t it?

From the look on Yara’s face, it wasn’t.

There was corruption everywhere, and it seemed I’d just been too willful and naïve to see it.

“If that’s all?” Judge Hartford asked. “I’ll see you all in court on April 17th.”

I stood there mutely for a moment before Yara took my elbow and led me from the room. It was only when we were in the car on the way back to the office that I finally found my voice.

“You knew this would happen.”

Her sigh was long, an unraveling of weariness. “You’re still young, Elena. When you play with the big dogs, you learn they have very different rules.”

“As in none,” I intoned. “Dennis O’Malley met with a known associate of Thomas Kelly, a mobster with ties to the di Carlo family, and nothing happens? The trial just goes on as planned.”

“Why do you think I feel so justified using our own unscrupulous means?” Yara demanded. “This is how it’s done, Elena.”

“Yeah, well, it’s fucked,” I proclaimed.

“You’re worried about him.”

I didn’t bother denying it, but I didn’t respond either, crossing my legs as I stared out the window at the snow.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. You’re just entering this world, but Dante has been king of his corner of it for years. He knows what he’s doing.”

I didn’t respond because the truth was, I was reeling.

I was desolate because I felt I had let Dante down. I’d been so sure Seamus would lead me to something that could help him, but if anything, it had only made the entire situation worse.

I was scared that Dennis would do anything to get Dante convicted.

I was petrified he would win and Dante would spend the rest of his life in a federal penitentiary.

I was horrified that a man I was coming to care for more than I was ready to admit was going to leave me.

And I’d be alone again, somehow even more so than I was before.

ELENA

Later that evening, I was just packing up to leave work early because I hadn’t been able to focus since our return from the courthouse when my phone rang.

I didn’t recognize the number, and wondering if it was Gideone di Carlo again, I almost didn’t answer it.

At the last minute, I swiped to accept the call and put the phone between my shoulder and ear as I continued to pack up.