Being unable to work on Nico’s case was about the only reason Micah regretted being stuck at home. Officially, he was on paid leave due to the concussion, but thanks to Jensen, everyone at the precinct knew the truth: that Micah had nearly been killed because he was dating Damon Romano, a well-known mafia don.

Micah suspected his father would make him pass a psyche eval before he even allowed him to return to his job – and not just because of the potential trauma at being held at gun point.

“No, no,” Tessa hastily assured, “I would have told you if there were any new developments with that.”

“Then what is it? It’s not like my reputation could have gotten any worse than it already is.”

Tessa had done her best to protect him from the rumors swirling at work, but Micah had nagged her until she’d told him the truth. It was how he knew that Jensen had told everyone about Damon.

Tessa scowled. “Stop that. Like I’ve told you again and again, most of our co-workers are sympathetic.”

That was only because, apparently, most of his colleagues thought Micah was a naïve, little idiot. For the most part, they all assumed he’d had no idea he was involved with such a dangerous man until Damon’s brother-in-law had attempted to kill him.

“Then what aren’t you saying?”

Tessa bit her bottom lip. “It’s just… we got a call from the liaison of the 9th precinct in Manhattan – the one that booked Vitali.”

Micah felt himself tense at the sound of Jason’s surname. “And? He didn’t post bail, did he?” Wealthy as Jason was, all of his finances were tied up with Damon’s, and there was no way the man would allow Jason to walk free. Even if he gave less thought to Micah than a pissant, Jason had hurt Caprice, and Damon wouldn’t let him get away with that consequence-free.

“No, he didn’t make bail.” Tessa sighed. “It’s the opposite, really. He was- he was found dead in his cell this morning.”

Any relief Micah may have felt at the man not making bail was immediately washed away by the ice water suddenly rushing through his veins. Dread filled his stomach like a lead weight. “Was… was he murdered?”

“Officially, it’s being investigated as a suicide. He was found hanging from the ceiling by his belt.” Tessa grimaced. “But, of course, his belt was confiscated with the rest of his clothes when he was booked, so no one knows how he got a hold of it again. It doesn’t help matters that he was being held in one of the only cells not under constant surveillance.”