CHAPTER 2 — The Girl the Mafia Was Never Supposed to Find
The bullet struck the brick wall inches from Elena's head.
Dust exploded into her face.
Vincent grabbed her by the waist and threw both of them behind an old delivery truck.
Three more shots echoed through the alley.
"They're pushing us," he said.
"Toward where?"
"I don't know."
"That's what scares me."
Vincent had survived wars between crime families.
He had escaped federal raids.
He had buried men who betrayed him.
But tonight...
Someone wasn't trying to kill him immediately.
Someone was herding him.
That meant there was another player on the board.
A smarter one.
His watch vibrated once.
Impossible.
The encrypted emergency network should have been jammed.
One short message appeared.
DON'T GO TO THE SAFEHOUSE.
No sender.
No signature.
Only six words.
Vincent's face hardened.
Only three people alive knew the location of that safehouse.
One was dead.
One was standing beside him.
The third...
Had betrayed him.
Elena noticed his expression.
"What happened?"
"My organization has already fallen."
"What?"
"The ambush wasn't outside."
He looked toward the city skyline.
"It started inside my own family."
Behind them, footsteps echoed through the alley.
Heavy.
Disciplined.
Too coordinated to be random.
Vincent pulled Elena deeper into the darkness.
The footsteps passed within ten feet.
Neither of them breathed.
Then...
A familiar voice spoke.
"Find the waitress."
Elena's blood turned cold.
"They know about me."
"No," Vincent corrected quietly.
"They were looking for you all along."
She stared at him.
"What?"
"They could have killed you inside the diner."
"They didn't."
"They wanted you alive."
Nothing about that made sense.
Until Vincent asked one question.
"Your father..."
She frowned.
"What about him?"
"How did he die?"
She swallowed.
"They said he was caught in gang crossfire."
"They."
"My mother never believed the police."
Vincent looked away.
"What if your mother was right?"
Memories flooded back.
The old silver lighter.
The wolf crest.
The mysterious men who attended her father's funeral.
The envelope her mother burned without opening.
The stranger who had cried harder than anyone else.
None of it had ever made sense.
Until now.
Vincent spoke so quietly she almost missed it.
"I knew a man twenty years ago."
"He disappeared."
"He carried the same lighter."
"He had a daughter."
Elena's legs weakened.
"No..."
"He was my best friend."
At that exact second...
A black sedan stopped across the alley.
The rear door opened.
An elderly man stepped out wearing an immaculate gray suit.
Every assassin lowered his weapon.
Even Vincent stopped breathing.
"No..."
Elena whispered.
"Who is he?"
Vincent's voice carried something she had never expected to hear.
May you like
Fear.
"My father."
