Chapter 1 - “You think they were following me?”
I heard my own voice, but it barely sounded like mine.
Alessandro’s expression didn’t change.
“Yes.”
Liam swore under his breath.
I stared at the dark sedan outside the window.
Three weeks ago, I had spent every waking hour making sure no one from my old life could find me.
Tonight, my old life had apparently found me first.
Alessandro stepped inside and shut the door.
“Where’s your phone?”
“Why?”
“Show me.”
I hesitated.
He held out his hand.
“Emma.”
Something in his voice made me reach into my pocket.
My screen was dark.
He took the phone, turned it over, and examined the case.
“You still have the tracking protection I told you about?”
“I never installed anything.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Then someone can track you.”
Liam stepped closer.
“Who?”
“I don't know yet.”
“That’s reassuring,” Liam said.
Alessandro ignored him.
He walked into the tiny living room and looked around.
There wasn’t much to see.
A secondhand sofa.
A kitchen table.
Two mugs.
A bookshelf containing mostly library books.
The apartment looked exactly like what I wanted the world to believe I was.
Nobody.
Nobody important.
Nobody worth hunting.
Except I was carrying Alessandro Vitali’s child.
And somewhere in Chicago, a dead man’s secrets were beginning to breathe again.
Alessandro turned back to me.
“Pack a bag.”
“I told you I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You misunderstood.”
He moved closer.
“You’re not going with me because I own you.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my stomach.
“You’re going because somebody may be trying to kill you.”
The room went silent.
Liam looked at me.
I looked at Alessandro.
“Why would anyone want to kill me?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
That was the problem.
Alessandro always seemed to know more than he said.
Finally, he pulled a black envelope from inside his coat.
He placed it on the table.
“Because someone left this in my office this morning.”
My fingers tightened.
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
I didn’t move.
Liam did.
He pulled out a photograph.
Then his face changed.
He handed it to me.
I almost stopped breathing.
It was a photograph of me.
Not Emma Hayes.
Elizabeth Mercer.
Four years younger.
Standing beside my father.
Outside the Mercer family home.
On the back, written in black ink, were six words.
SHE SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH THEM.
My knees weakened.
Liam caught my arm.
Alessandro noticed.
His eyes moved between us.
“You know this photograph.”
It wasn’t a question.
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Then start talking.”
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“You expect me to protect you while you lie to me?”
“I never asked you to protect me.”
“You carried my child without telling me.”
“I found out this morning.”
“That isn't what I'm talking about.”
I looked at him.
“What, then?”
“You disappeared after one night.”
My chest tightened.
“You never called. You changed your number. You moved apartments. You took a job under a different name.”
His voice dropped.
“That isn't the behavior of a woman who simply regretted sleeping with a man.”
Liam stepped in.
“She had reasons.”
Alessandro looked at him.
“And you know them.”
Liam didn't answer.
That silence told Alessandro everything.
He stared at us for several seconds.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“Victor Sloane's name was in my father's private files.”
I froze.
“What did you say?”
“Victor Sloane.”
The room tilted.
My father had spent months investigating Victor before he died.
But the name had never appeared in the newspapers.
It was supposed to have disappeared with him.
“How do you know that name?”
“Because my father knew him.”
Alessandro reached into his coat again.
This time he pulled out a folded document.
“I found this tonight.”
He handed it to me.
The paper was old.
Yellow around the edges.
At the bottom was my father's signature.
My hands began to shake.
I recognized it immediately.
Beneath the signature was another name.
Victor Sloane.
And beneath that, a line of words.
PAYMENT FOR MERCER SILENCE.
My stomach turned.
“That’s impossible.”
Liam looked over my shoulder.
His face became pale.
“What is it?”
I couldn't answer.
Alessandro watched me.
“You're Elizabeth Mercer.”
I looked up sharply.
His eyes had gone cold.
“You know.”
“I know now.”
“Who told you?”
“No one.”
“Then how?”
“Because I had someone investigate you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“You investigated me?”
“After you disappeared.”
“And you found this?”
“I found very little.”
He leaned closer.
“Someone spent a lot of money making sure you disappeared.”
I couldn't breathe.
Then something crashed against the window.
Liam spun around.
The glass shattered.
I screamed.
A bullet tore through the apartment wall.
Alessandro grabbed me and pulled me to the floor.
“DOWN!”
Another shot.
Then another.
The room exploded into chaos.
Liam dragged the curtains closed.
Alessandro shielded me with his body.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Emma?”
“No.”
His hand pressed protectively over my stomach.
For one terrifying second, his eyes met mine.
There was something in them I had never seen before.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For us.
Liam crawled toward the broken window.
“There’s a car.”
Alessandro raised his weapon.
“You stay down.”
I stared at the shattered glass.
A black SUV was speeding away.
Then my eyes caught something on the floor.
A small object lying beside the couch.
A red keycard.
I picked it up.
There was one word printed across it.
OBSIDIAN.
My breath caught.
The Obsidian Hotel.
The place where Alessandro and I had met.
The place where Victor Sloane was supposed to appear four years ago.
And where my father had been seen for the last time before he died.
Alessandro looked at the card.
His face hardened.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was on the floor.”
He took it from my hand.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Alessandro.”
A man spoke on the other end.
I couldn’t hear everything.
But I heard the last sentence.
“Sir, you need to come back to the hotel.”
Alessandro's expression changed.
“Why?”
A pause.
Then the man said:
“We found the person who hired the shooter.”
Alessandro went still.
“Who?”
The answer was almost a whisper.
“A woman.”
He glanced at me.
“She asked specifically for Emma Hayes.”
I stopped breathing.
Because the man on the phone said one more thing.
“And sir?”
“What?”
“She knew Emma's real name.”
Elizabeth.
May you like
I felt the blood leave my face.
Then the lights went out.
