Chapter 1 - “What’s your name?”Sadie Bennett stared up at Dominic Russo.
She had seen his photograph before.
Everyone in Philadelphia had.
Newspapers called him a businessman.
Police reports called him a person of interest.
The men who worked for him never called him anything unless he was listening.
To Sadie, right now, he simply looked like a man who had survived being shot at.
His charcoal suit was torn at the shoulder. Blood darkened the white collar of his shirt. A shallow cut ran along his cheek.
Yet somehow, he looked calmer than everyone else.
Sadie glanced toward the dining room.
A waiter was crying behind the bar.
One of Dominic's guards was unconscious on the floor.
The assassin was still sprawled beside the host stand, one leg twisted beneath him.
Police sirens wailed somewhere far away.
Sadie swallowed.
“Sadie.”
“Sadie what?”
“Bennett.”
Dominic repeated it quietly.
“Sadie Bennett.”
“Yes.”
He crouched in front of her.
The movement startled her.
She instinctively pulled backward.
Dominic noticed.
He stopped.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You're a mafia boss.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“You say that like it's a medical diagnosis.”
Sadie almost laughed.
Almost.
Then she remembered the bullets.
“You shot someone.”
“No.”
Dominic glanced over his shoulder.
“My people did.”
“You have people?”
“Unfortunately.”
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Then one of his guards rushed toward them.
“Boss.”
Dominic stood.
“What?”
“We need to move. Now.”
“Why?”
The guard looked toward the shattered front doors.
“Because those weren't the only men coming.”
Sadie's stomach dropped.
“What?”
The guard pulled out his phone.
“Three vehicles just stopped outside.”
Dominic's expression changed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
Dominic turned toward the unconscious giant.
For the first time, his face hardened.
“Search him.”
Two guards grabbed the man's coat.
They pulled out a second magazine.
A knife.
A folded map.
And a photograph.
One of the guards unfolded it.
Dominic took the photograph.
Sadie caught a glimpse.
It showed Dominic standing outside a courthouse.
Beside him was a younger man.
Maybe twenty-five.
The photograph had been circled in red.
Dominic turned it over.
There was a single sentence written on the back.
YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH HIM.
The room went silent.
Sadie looked at Dominic.
“Who is that?”
He didn't answer.
“Who is that man?”
Dominic folded the photograph.
“Someone who is dead.”
“Then why does that guy have his picture?”
Dominic's eyes moved toward the front windows.
The rain outside suddenly sounded louder.
“Because,” he said, “someone wants me to remember.”
The lights went out.
Everyone froze.
Then the restaurant exploded into darkness.
A gunshot cracked from the kitchen.
Another answered from the dining room.
Dominic grabbed Sadie's wrist.
“Move.”
She stumbled after him.
They ran through the kitchen while bullets punched through stainless-steel counters.
“Where are we going?”
“Downstairs.”
“There’s a basement?”
“There is now.”
“That makes no sense!”
“Welcome to my life.”
He shoved open a steel door.
They entered a narrow stairwell.
Dominic pulled the door shut.
Something heavy slammed against it from the other side.
Sadie gasped.
Dominic checked his revolver.
One bullet remained.
He looked at her.
“Are you afraid of blood?”
“Yes.”
“Guns?”
“Yes.”
“Men trying to kill you?”
“Yes!”
“Good.”
She stared at him.
“Why is that good?”
“Because you're still sane.”
Another impact shook the door.
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Sadie.”
“What?”
“There's something you need to know.”
He lowered his voice.
“The man you dropped tonight wasn't trying to kill me.”
Sadie's blood ran cold.
“Then who was he trying to kill?”
May you like
Dominic looked directly at her.
“You.”
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