Chapter 1 - The Weight of a NameThe knock came again. Heavy, measured, and absolute.
Mara froze, the telephone number burning a hole in her palm. The morning light filtering through the greasy blinds felt suddenly blinding, stark, and terrifying. Fifteen thousand dollars sat on her counter—pocket change to a syndicate leader, but enough to pay her rent for two years, clear her debts, and bury her worries.
And now, the consequences of that charity were standing on the other side of a flimsy, deadbolted apartment door.
She dropped the phone onto the cushion, crossed the living room on silent feet, and pressed her eye to the spyglass.
A man stood in the hallway. He wasn't the police. He wore an immaculate charcoal overcoat that swallowed the dim fluorescence of the building's stairwell. His shoulders were wide, his posture rigidly composed, and his face carved from limestone. It was Victor, Adrian Vale’s primary enforcer—a face Mara had glimpsed on local news broadcasts discussing high-profile syndicate acquisitions.
“Miss Ellis,” Victor’s voice came through the wood, smooth as oil and cold as grave dirt. “Mr. Vale sends his regards. And his transportation is waiting.”
Mara’s throat tightened. Her nursing instincts told her to hide; her survival instincts told her to run. But the black SUV idling outside reminded her that there was nowhere in Chicago to run from a man like Adrian Vale.
She unlocked the deadbolt, slid the chain, and pulled the door open.
“I was just about to make coffee,” Mara said, her voice steadier than her hammering heart had any right to be.
Victor didn’t smile. He looked past her, taking in the small apartment, the stack of medical textbooks, and the neatly folded blanket on the couch.
“Mr. Vale does not like debts outstanding, Miss Ellis,” Victor said, stepping past her uninvited. He reached out and picked up the thick stacks of cash from the counter. “Especially debts of blood.”
“The money is too much,” Mara said, her jaw clenching. “I stitched a wound. I didn’t sign up to be a mob asset.”
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Victor turned, his dark eyes locking onto hers with terrifying intensity.
“You didn’t sign up to save Adrian Vale, either, Miss Ellis. But life rarely gives us the luxury of choosing our wars. Get your coat. You’re coming with me.”
