My friends sent me on a blind date with one of Boston’s most feared mafia bosses because they thought watching me panic would be funny.

Daniel’s hand dropped from my face instantly, his protective tenderness vanishing behind the cold, impenetrable mask of the syndicate boss. He stepped in front of me, shielding me from the open doorway with his body.

“Who is it, Marcus?” Daniel demanded, his voice dropping into that chilling, lethal cadence.

“It’s not the Valentis,” Marcus said, stepping aside to reveal the monitor screens mounted in the hallway. “It’s a civilian. He showed up at the front gate in a taxi, claiming he had an emergency message for Emily. The perimeter guards searched him—he’s clean, no weapons, no wires. But he’s hysterical.”

I stepped out from behind Daniel, glancing at the security monitor.

The blood drained from my face.

Standing in the rain-slicked courtyard beneath the glare of the security spotlights, soaking wet, his designer hair ruined and his hands held high above his head, was Jason.

My ex-boyfriend.

“What is he doing here?” I gasped, my stomach twisting into a knot of disbelief and sudden fury. “How does he even know where this house is?”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed into slits of deadly gray ice. “Marcus. Bring him up. If he makes a sudden movement, break his collarbone.”

Two minutes later, the library doors opened again. Two burly guards practically threw Jason onto the Persian rug. He hit the floor on his hands and knees, gasping for air, looking around the opulent, shadow-drenched room with absolute terror.

When Jason’s eyes landed on me, relief flashed across his face, followed immediately by frantic desperation.

“Emily! Oh thank God, Emily!” Jason scrambled to his feet, taking a step toward me, but Marcus instantly stepped forward, pressing the cold barrel of a gun against Jason’s temple. Jason froze, his eyes rolling back in terror, his hands shooting back into the air. “Don’t shoot! Please, don’t shoot! Em, tell him!”

I didn’t move. I stood beside Daniel, looking at the man I had shared four years of my life with—the man who had calmly informed me over cold noodles that I wasn't enough for him. Seeing him now, soaking wet, shivering with cowardice under the gaze of Daniel Brooks, the last lingering embers of my heartbreak evaporated into complete, utter disgust.

“How did you find this house, Jason?” I asked, my voice steady, cold, and entirely devoid of the warmth he used to manipulate.

“Olivia called me!” Jason babbled, tears mixing with the rain on his cheeks. “Before she got grabbed tonight, she called me from the restaurant bathroom! She said everything went wrong, that Daniel Brooks was involved, and that the Valentis were going to kill everyone connected to you!”

Daniel took a slow, deliberate step forward. The sheer physical presence of the man made Jason shrink back until his heels hit the edge of the fireplace hearth.

“Why would Olivia call you, Jason?” Daniel asked softly. “You haven't spoken to Emily in eight months. Unless, of course, your departure from her life wasn't as accidental as she believed.”

I turned to Daniel, stunned. “What do you mean?”

Daniel didn’t take his eyes off Jason. “A month before Jason left you, Emily, his failing marketing firm received an anonymous cash injection of two hundred thousand dollars. I had my accountants look into his firm the night you broke up. The money came from an offshore shell corporation based in the Caymans. A corporation managed by Salvatore Valenti’s younger brother.”

The room seemed to tilt on its axis.

I looked at Jason, the horror dawning on me in sickening waves. “You... you were paid to leave me?”

“No! Em, it wasn't like that!” Jason cried, raising his hands defensively. “They told me that if I stayed with you, I was in danger! They said your father was mixed up with dangerous people, and if I broke things off and monitored your bookstore—just reported if any strange men ever came looking for old papers—they would fund my business! They said it was just business research!”

“You monitored me?” I yelled, the rage exploding from my chest. I walked right up to him, heedless of the gun Marcus was holding, and slapped Jason across the face with every ounce of strength I possessed.

The crack echoed through the cavernous library. Jason stumbled, clutching his reddening cheek, whimpering like a scolded dog.

“I spent eight months thinking I wasn't pretty enough, wasn't exciting enough, wasn't *enough* for you!” I shouted, tears of pure fury burning my eyes. “I thought my heart was broken, and all along you were a paid spy for the mob!”

“Emily, please, they came to my apartment tonight!” Jason pleaded, dropping to his knees before me. “After they shot up your bookstore, two men showed up at my place! They tore it apart! They said if I didn't find out where Brooks took you, they’d put a bullet in my head! Olivia told me you were going to the safehouse, but when I drove by, it was empty. This was the only other address my firm ever had connected to the Brooks family! You have to save me, Em! Please, tell him to protect me!”

Daniel looked down at the pathetic creature groveling at my feet. There was no anger on Daniel’s face—only the cold, detached disgust a man feels when stepping on a cockroach.

“You came here,” Daniel said, his voice low and vibrating with menace, “to beg the woman whose life you ruined to save yours from the monsters you took money from?”

“I have information!” Jason blurted out, desperately trying to save his own skin. “I know who gave the order to hit the bookstore! It wasn't just Salvatore Valenti! It was someone inside your organization, Brooks! The man at my apartment said they had a meeting scheduled at Harbor Nine at dawn! They’re going to blow the shipping terminal to force the mayor to declare a state of emergency and seize your private docks!”

Daniel’s eyes darkened into something utterly terrifying.

“Harbor Nine,” Daniel murmured. “They want to finish what they started seven years ago.”

Daniel looked at Marcus. “Lock him in the wine cellar. If he makes a sound, gag him. When this is over, we will let the federal prosecutors deal with Mr. Vance’s former suitor for conspiracy and racketeering.”

“Emily! No! Emily!” Jason screamed as Marcus hauled him backward across the floor, dragging him through the heavy double doors until his cries faded down the spiral staircase.

The doors clicked shut.

I stood there, my chest heaving, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I turned to Daniel, looking at the heavy ledger resting on the table beside my father’s letter.

“It ends at Harbor Nine,” I said, my voice steady, the fear completely gone, replaced by a cold, sharp resolve I hadn't known I possessed. “Doesn't it?”

Daniel looked at me, his gray eyes reflecting the dying embers of the hearth.