Chapter 1 - The Shadow in the Night
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The phone felt like a block of ice against Emily’s ear. She stared down through the open window of her cramped apartment, her breath catching in her throat as the streetlights illuminated the sleek black Mercedes. Dante Moretti leaned casually against the hood, a cigarette burning between his fingers, looking up at her with a predator’s patience.
“How do you know my real name?” Emily demanded.
Her voice trembled, betraying the sheer terror spiking through her veins. She had spent three months carefully constructing the identity of ‘Emma,’ burying her past under layers of cheap aprons and exhausting restaurant shifts.
“I know a great many things, Emily Hart,” Dante’s voice rumbled through the speaker, smooth and devastatingly calm. “I know that your mother thinks you are working in a boutique in Athens. I know about the six thousand dollars in student debt. And, most importantly, I know exactly what your father took from my family before he supposedly died in that car crash five years ago.”
The blood drained entirely from Emily’s face. The mention of her father felt like a physical blow to her chest. Arthur Hart had been a quiet, nervous accountant in Ohio. He wasn't involved with European crime syndicates. It was impossible.
“My father was an accountant,” she whispered, her hands shaking so violently she nearly dropped the phone. “He didn’t even own a passport. You have the wrong person.”
“I never have the wrong person,” Dante replied. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, the glowing ember illuminating the sharp, ruthless angles of his jawline. “Come downstairs, Emily. We are going to take a drive. If you make me come up those stairs to get you, I promise your three roommates will not sleep through the experience.”
“You’re insane if you think I’m getting in a car with you.”
“I am many things, but insane is not one of them. You have two minutes.”
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The line went dead.
Emily stood frozen in the stifling heat of her bedroom. Panic clawed at her throat. She looked at her packed duffel bag in the corner, realizing that running was no longer an option. The most feared man in the Mediterranean was waiting on her street, and he had just unraveled her entire existence in less than sixty seconds. She put on her shoes.
