Chapter 1 - THE WARMTH OF A PREDATORThe heated leather interior of the luxury SUV radiated a steady, humming warmth that slowly thawed my frozen limbs. My teeth stopped chattering, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache as blood rushed back into my fingers and toes.
Across from me, Adrien Moretti sat in absolute stillness. He hadn't bothered to reclaim his heavy wool coat, which still rested over my shoulders, heavy with the scent of cedar and ozone. He watched me with eyes the color of winter slate—unreadable, analytical, and entirely devoid of the casual cruelty I had grown accustomed to living with.
"Drink this," he said, handing me a small silver flask.
I didn't move. My hand remained pressed tightly against the right side of my ribs, where the black flash drive was tucked securely beneath the torn lining of my coat.
"I'm not thirsty," I whispered, my voice raw from the freezing air.
"It’s not poisoned, Clare," Adrien replied, a faint, humorless shadow touching the corner of his mouth. "If I intended to kill you, I wouldn't have pulled you out of a snowbank. And certainly not in front of my own men."
I took the flask with trembling fingers. The burning liquid—strong, dark scotch—hit my throat like liquid fire, making me cough, but instantly clearing the fog in my brain.
"Why did you stop?" I asked, looking through the tinted window as the pine trees blurred into an endless wall of black. "You’re Adrien Moretti. People whisper your name like a curse. Why waste your time on a stranded woman in the Adirondacks?"
Adrien leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The movement pulled back his right cuff just enough for me to see the intricate, dark ink of the tattoo curling across his knuckles—a design I couldn't quite decipher in the dim dashboard light.
"Your father, David Vance, was a good man," Adrien said softly. "A brilliant engineer who built things that lasted. When he died two years ago, the local authorities ruled it a tragic accident. A sudden cardiac arrest in his home office."
My breath caught. My father’s death had broken me. I had trusted the police report without question.
"How do you know about my father?" I demanded.
"Because he and I were partners in a venture the world wasn't ready to understand," Adrien said, his gaze locking onto mine. "And because the man you married—Daniel Bennett—has spent the last six months systematically dismantling everything your father built, laundering stolen assets through fictitious shell corporations, and framing Moretti Enterprises for crimes we never committed."
May you like
He paused, his eyes dropping to the bulge near my ribs.
"And now, you are sitting in the back of my vehicle holding the master ledger that proves it all."
