CHAPTER 1 — The Woman Who Walked Through the Crosshairs
The diner bell chimed.
It sounded absurdly ordinary.
Outside, six assassins watched from the darkness while a waitress laughed at a joke she hadn't heard.
Vincent Moretti smiled back.
For the first time in twenty-three years as one of the most feared crime bosses on the East Coast...
He trusted a stranger.
That decision would rewrite both of their lives.
"Keep your hand on my shoulder," Elena whispered without turning her head.
"If you look at them, they'll know you spotted them."
Vincent obeyed.
The movement surprised even him.
Men obeyed Vincent Moretti.
Vincent Moretti did not obey anyone.
Yet there was something about the certainty in her voice that cut through years of instinct.
They crossed the first intersection.
Nothing happened.
The sniper hidden above the pharmacy adjusted his scope.
The man beside the newspaper stand quietly touched the pistol under his coat.
Nobody fired.
Not yet.
"They're waiting," Vincent muttered.
"They don't want witnesses."
Elena nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Exactly."
"So why aren't they shooting?"
"Because you look happy."
He almost laughed.
Happy?
He hadn't been happy since he buried his younger brother sixteen years earlier.
But from fifty yards away...
A laughing couple carrying coffee looked nothing like a mafia boss escaping an execution.
They looked invisible.
That was Elena's weapon.
Not guns.
Normality.
At the next corner she suddenly stopped in front of a tiny flower stand that had already closed for the night.
She bent down.
Pretended to tie her shoe.
"No," Vincent whispered.
"What?"
"The reflection."
She froze.
In the florist's dark window...
She counted eight men now.
Not six.
Two more had quietly appeared behind them.
"They're adapting."
Vincent's voice became colder.
"They know this isn't random."
Elena's heart slammed against her ribs.
She had expected to fool professionals for maybe thirty seconds.
Instead...
They were being studied by people just as patient as Vincent himself.
Then a black SUV slowly rolled into the intersection.
Its headlights remained off.
Vincent's breathing changed.
"They brought the cleanup crew."
"What does that mean?"
"If they fail..."
"They erase everyone."
His eyes briefly met hers.
"Including you."
Every instinct screamed at Elena to run.
Instead...
She reached into Vincent's pocket.
He stiffened instantly.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for your phone."
"It won't work."
"I know."
She pulled out a silver lighter instead.
On the side was engraved a tiny crest.
A wolf standing over a crown.
Her expression changed.
"...Impossible."
Vincent noticed.
"You've seen it before?"
She quickly shook her head.
"No."
But she had.
Twenty years earlier.
Around the neck of the man who disappeared the same night her father was murdered.
They reached the old Vietnamese grocery.
The lights were off.
The owner always forgot to lock the rear delivery gate.
Exactly as Elena remembered.
She pushed the gate open.
"It still works."
Vincent looked at her carefully.
"How do you know this neighborhood so well?"
"I grew up surviving it."
"So did I."
Their eyes met.
For one strange second...
Neither of them looked like victim or criminal.
Just two people trying to stay alive.
Then the first gunshot shattered the silence.
May you like
The assassins had stopped pretending.
The hunt had begun.
Related Stories
