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I wake up alone.

Gray light leaks in around the edges of the blackout blinds. The clock on the wall says a little after six. The sheets beside me are cool. He’s been gone a while.

The ring is still on my finger. I let myself smile at it.

Then I hear voices.

Two men, right outside the door, not trying very hard to be quiet.

“He wants the cars brought around before the street wakes up.”

“He say how long he’s gonna be?”

“You wanna be the one who asks Enzo Accardi how long he’s gonna be?”

A dry laugh. “Point taken.”

“And he said nobody bothers the room. He was real clear.”

The smile slides right off my face.

Enzo Accardi.

I knew the room called him the Don. I didn’t know which one. Some mob boss from some family, with men to do his bleeding for him.

I didn’t know he was this one.

Everyone in this city knows that name. It’s on the sides of buildings in letters six feet tall. Accardi Holdings. Accardi clubs. Accardi everything.

Billionaire. Real estate king. A man with half the politicians in New York in his pocket.

And something else.

Something people only say in whispers.

Killer.

Then a third voice, low, unhurried, coming down the hall. The voice that was in my ear three hours ago telling me I was perfect.

“The man in the lion mask. Ricci.” A pause, like he’s checking his cuff. “Not on the property. Neutral ground stays neutral. Wait until he’s home.”

“How bad, boss?”

“He put his money on one special girl’s tray tonight.” Calm. Almost bored. “Break every finger he counted it with. Slowly. Then let him count those.”

“Understood.”

Footsteps. A door somewhere down the hall. Then nothing.

I’m sitting in his bed with his ring on my finger, and I can’t feel my hands.

Last night, that voice told me I was beautiful. This morning, it ordered a man’s fingers broken before breakfast, like it was choosing a wine.

And the worst part, the part I will never say out loud to anyone, is that for one second, a small, dark part of me is glad.

I sit up.

The woman who melted in this bed a few hours ago is still here. But someone else is taking her place. The girl who got herself out of foster care. The one who has only ever had herself to count on. The one who already made the mistake of falling for one powerful, dangerous man.