I had just zipped the last bag when the door to the safe house was kicked off its hinges.

Vincenzo stood in the doorway, his eyes bloodshot, blazing with rage.

“Found you,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

My hand went to my gun. His was faster. Of course, it was.

Three strides, and he had me. He slammed me against the wall, his hand an iron vise around my wrist.

“Where did you think you could run?” he snarled, his breath hot on my face, smelling of whiskey and fury.

I struggled, but he had me pinned.

Suddenly, the rage in his eyes flickered, replaced by something almost broken.

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” he said, his forehead resting against mine, his voice rough with exhaustion. “I thought something happened to you…”

A sharp pain went through my chest.

But my head knew better. This was just another trap.

“Let go of me, Vincenzo.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell you’re doing.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing to do with me?” He let out a cold laugh, grabbing my chin. “You are mine, Chiara. Every inch of you has been branded Russo for ten years. You don’t get to decide when it has nothing to do with me.”

“Brands get old. They get replaced.” I looked him dead in the eye. “You and your family… you mean nothing to me anymore.”

The words were a poisoned knife, and they hit their mark.

CRACK.

His hand flew across my face. The force was so strong I tasted blood.

“Take it back,” he said, his voice like ice. “You’re not just insulting me. You’re insulting the Russo family.”

I wiped the blood from my lip with the back of my hand and smiled. A broken smile.

“You hit me for her. You hit me for the family. Vincenzo, what’s your line? Is there anything you won’t hit me for?”

“You don’t get to talk about lines!” He was furious. He reached into his suit and pulled out an old, heavy medallion carved with a two-headed serpent. He slammed it on the table.

The Rossi family blood oath seal.

“Your father swore a blood oath with the honor and blood of the Rossi family,” his voice was the Don’s now, every word a stone crushing my heart. “Your life, your loyalty, everything you are… from the day you were born, it belongs to the Russo family. It belongs to me!”

I stared at the seal. My blood ran cold. This was the chain I could never break.

“You’re going to use my father’s oath against me?”

“If it’s the only way to make you obey.” He picked up the seal, his eyes turning cold and hard again. “The night after tomorrow. The engagement party. You will be there.”

He paused, then delivered the final, cruel blow.

“And you will be the one to present Katerina with the Petrov ‘pact of peace’—the diamond dagger. You will kneel, and you will show every family in that room what Rossi loyalty looks like.”

I just looked at him. The man I would have died for.

Watching him chain me with my family’s honor, only to humiliate me with the sharpest blade.

“I understand,” I said, my voice empty.

“Good.” He turned to leave, satisfied. “Remember your place, Chiara. You are my property. Not my enemy.”

He and his men left.

I stood alone in the trashed apartment. The setting sun cast a long, lonely shadow on the floor.

A blood oath.

He was holding me to a blood oath.

I picked up the small blade I used for cutting canvases. I stared at its sharp edge.

“A blood debt,” I whispered, my voice as light as a feather.

“Must be paid in blood.”

Chicago’s Holy Name Cathedral had never looked so grand.

Every crime boss in the city was there. The air was thick with expensive perfume and gunpowder.

I stood alone in the shadows.

Katerina walked toward me in a priceless Vera Wang gown, a diamond tiara sparkling in her hair. A fairytale princess.

She stopped in front of me. Her eyes fell to my chest.

I was wearing a black diamond phoenix necklace.

The first piece I ever designed, for my eighteenth birthday. I’d given it to Vincenzo.

A few days ago, he had Marco “return” it to me.

“That poor little bird,” Katerina’s voice was sickly sweet, dripping with venom. “So lonely now that its owner has thrown it away. Tell me, Chiara, does it hurt? Knowing you were so easy to replace.”

Before I could answer, Vincenzo’s voice came from behind us.

“Darling, what are you talking about with my soldier?”

He came over, his arm sliding possessively around Katerina’s waist.

He didn’t even look at me. Like I was part of the furniture.

“Nothing,” Katerina pouted. “I just thought Miss Chiara looked lonely over here by herself.”

“A soldier stays in her post,” Vincenzo said, his tone freezing. “Chiara. Hold your position.”

I raised my champagne glass to them, a perfect smile fixed on my face. “Yes, Boss.”

The orchestra began a waltz.

Vincenzo led Katerina to the center of the floor.

They were the perfect couple, bathed in the admiration of the crowd.

Suddenly, all the lights went out.

The cathedral fell silent for a heartbeat, then the roar of automatic weapons tore it apart.

Rat-tat-tat-tat!

Screams. Breaking glass. The crash of overturned tables.

“Get down!”

“It’s a hit! The Torrinos!”

I instinctively drew the Glock from my thigh holster and took cover behind a stone pillar.

In the dark, muzzle flashes were like shooting stars of death.

“Katerina!” Vincenzo’s voice was raw with a panic I’d never heard before. “Katerina, where are you?!”

More gunfire.

Windows shattered as hitters poured in from every side.

I saw a small, black object arc through the darkness, whistling as it flew toward the center of the dance floor.

A grenade.

In that life-or-death moment, I saw them. Vincenzo and Katerina.

Huddled on the other side of the dance floor.

Because of where I’d moved, I was near him, too.

The three of us formed a deadly triangle.

The grenade landed right in the middle of us.

Time stopped.

Vincenzo saw the grenade. His eyes shot to a terrified Katerina. Then they shot to me.

He had one second.

He made his choice.

He didn’t hesitate. He threw himself at Katerina, covering her body with his, shielding her head.

As he lunged for her, his foot pushed off the marble floor. Right next to me. He used my position as leverage. One final push to propel himself toward her, and away from me.

BOOM!

The blast wave threw me against the stone pillar.

I heard my ribs crack. Warm blood coughed from my lips.

Shattered stone and glass rained down. My dress was torn, the blue silk stained red.

The chain on my phoenix necklace snapped. The pendant skittered away into a pool of my blood.

Through my blurring vision, I saw Vincenzo climb from the rubble, Katerina held safely in his arms.

His tuxedo was shredded, but he only had eyes for her.

“Return fire! Kill every last one of these motherfuckers!” he roared.

Then he picked her up and ran for the side door, for the safest way out.

The gunshots continued.

I lay in a pool of my own blood, listening to my breathing grow shallow.

He never looked back. Not even a glance to see if his most loyal soldier, the woman who’d bled for him for a decade, was dead or alive.

He had made his choice. He chose his queen. And he sacrificed his weapon.

The shooting stopped. Emergency lights flickered on, illuminating the ruins.

Vincenzo stood in the center of the hall.

Across from him stood a man in a Russian military-style coat—Katerina’s uncle, Dimitri Petrov.

“I require an explanation,” Dimitri’s voice was ice. “My niece was nearly killed. On your territory.”

“The Torrino family will pay,” Vincenzo said.

“Not enough.” Dimitri’s gaze went past him, finding me behind my pillar. “That one,” Dimitri’s gaze flicked past him, landing on me. “Your loose end.”

His tone shifted. He moved closer to Vincenzo.

“A woman who forces a man to ‘choose’ is a liability. My niece will not start her new life with liabilities.”

Vincenzo was silent.

“Our alliance requires the elimination of all internal liabilities,” Dimitri delivered his ultimatum. “This woman knows too many of your secrets. Deal with her before the wedding. Or the deal is off.”

Dimitri turned and left.

Vincenzo stood alone for a long moment.

Then he turned slowly, his eyes locking onto mine across the wreckage. The struggle was gone. All that was left was the cold logic of the Don.

He raised his radio.

“Marco.” His voice was quiet, but it hit me like a hammer. “Activate the ‘cleanup protocol.’ Target: Chiara Rossi.”

I laughed.

I wasn’t beaten by a woman. I was beaten by his ambition.

I dragged my broken body out through a side door.

Katerina was waiting for me in the rose garden.

“You heard him,” she said, a victor’s smile on her face. “Don’t blame Vincenzo. For his future, you have to disappear.”

A guard behind her handed her a syringe.

“He asked me to send you off. A last kindness. A clean death.”

She gave a nod. Two big men started toward me.

I pulled the small knife from my thigh. I slit the first man’s throat.

Blood sprayed across the white roses.

The second man went for his gun. I rolled, dodged, and buried the knife in his heart.

He collapsed, a look of surprise on his face.

Katerina screamed and stumbled backward.

“You’re insane! You killed them!”

I got to my feet, the knife dripping blood.

“They were trying to kill me.”

“Help! Help me!” Katerina shrieked. “Chiara’s trying to kill me!”

Footsteps pounded from all directions.

The estate guards rushed in, their guns all aimed at me.

Then Vincenzo appeared.

He saw the two bodies on the ground. He saw the terrified Katerina. He saw me, holding the bloody knife.

His face became a mask of fury.

Katerina ran to him, tears streaming down her face.

“She’s crazy! She tried to kill me!” she sobbed. “If my men hadn’t protected me, I’d be dead!”

Vincenzo wrapped his arms around her, patting her back.

Then he drew his own gun. And aimed it at me.

The cold metal pressed against my forehead.

His eyes were savage. There was no warmth left.

“Chiara!” His roar was inhuman. “You dare put your hands on her!”

His gun was still leveled at my head, his voice dropping to a lethal growl.

“Get the fuck out of my city. And if I ever see your face in Chicago again, I will put a bullet in your head myself.”