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Chapter 1 - The Night I Ran Into a Mafia Boss’s Club With Blood on My FeetMy boyfriend had just assaulted me and threatened to kill me as I ran for my life.

I didn't know where I was going.

I only knew where I couldn't stay.

Behind me.

That was where Marcus was.

The man I had once believed would protect me was now the man I feared most.

I ran barefoot through the rain with one broken heel still clutched in my fist.

My other shoe had disappeared somewhere between my apartment and the alley.

My ribs screamed every time I breathed.

My lower lip was split.

Blood mixed with rainwater and ran down my chin.

I could barely feel the pavement beneath my feet anymore.

Then I saw the golden letters.

THE VELVET CROWN.

The private club was impossible to miss.

Black marble.

Gold-framed windows.

Two armed guards beside the entrance.

A line of luxury cars outside.

I had heard the rumors.

Everyone in New York had.

The Velvet Crown belonged to Adrien Viscari.

The most feared man in the city.

A billionaire businessman in public.

A crime lord in private.

People disappeared after crossing him.

Politicians answered his calls.

Judges changed decisions.

Men who considered themselves untouchable lowered their voices when his name was mentioned.

And I was about to run straight into his world.

I pushed through the doors.

Every face inside turned toward me.

Billionaires stopped talking.

A judge lowered his glass.

A councilman froze beside a woman wearing diamonds.

Men whose names appeared only in sealed court files stared as my blood dripped onto the black marble floor.

I didn't care.

Marcus was behind me.

And if he caught me again, I knew I would not survive.

Then I saw the man standing at the top of the staircase.

Adrien Viscari.

He wore a black suit without a tie.

One hand rested on the railing.

His dark hair was slightly disheveled, as if he'd been interrupted in the middle of a private conversation.

He did not look surprised to see a half-conscious woman stumble into his kingdom.

He looked angry.

Not at me.

At whoever had done this to me.

The doors slammed open.

Marcus stormed inside.

Rainwater ran down his face.

Blood stained his shirt where I had struck him with my broken heel.

“There you are,” he snarled.

“You stupid little—”

His eyes lifted toward Adrien.

The insult died in his throat.

Adrien descended the staircase slowly.

No one moved.

Not the guards.

Not the politicians.

Not even the jazz singer beneath the golden lights.

He stopped in front of me.

Then removed his jacket.

He draped it around my shoulders.

The warmth nearly broke me.

“She’s drunk,” Marcus said quickly.

“She gets hysterical.”

“I’m taking her home.”

I tried to answer, but pain tore through my ribs.

Adrien looked at the bruises around my wrists.

Then he asked:

“Who did this to you?”

Marcus stepped forward.

“She’s mine.”

Adrien’s gaze hardened.

“Not anymore.”

The room became so quiet I could hear rain striking the windows.

Marcus gave a nervous laugh.

“You have no idea who you’re protecting.”

Adrien moved closer.

“I know exactly who you are.”

He said Marcus's name slowly.

“Senior attorney.”

“Two harassment complaints sealed by your firm.”

“One former girlfriend hospitalized after an alleged fall.”

“A father whose gambling debts were erased three days before you started dating Lena.”

My stomach tightened.

I had never told anyone about Marcus's father.

Marcus's face drained of color.

“You've been investigating me?”

“No.”

Adrien's voice was cold.

“I investigate threats.”

Marcus pointed at me.

“She’s not some innocent girl.”

“Ask her who her mother was.”

I stared at him.

“My mother died when I was seven.”

Marcus smiled.

But there was no warmth in it.

“That’s what they told you.”

My knees buckled.

Adrien caught me before I hit the floor.

His grip was firm but careful.

“Marco.”

A man immediately appeared.

“Get Dr. Bell.”

Marcus backed toward the entrance.

Adrien looked over my shoulder.

“You will never call her again.”

“You will never follow her.”

“And you will never speak her name.”

Marcus swallowed.

“Or what?”

Adrien smiled.

“Then one night, when you think you're safe, I'll remind you why this city fears me.”

Marcus fled.

The last thing I remembered was Adrien lifting me into his arms.

When I woke, I was lying in a dark bedroom that smelled of cedar and leather.

Adrien sat beside the window.

He was watching me.

But he kept his distance.

“Where am I?”

“You’re safe.”

I tried to sit.

Pain stopped me.

He stood.

“Don't move.”

“Where's the doctor?”

“He's coming.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Because you were bleeding.”

“I could have gone to a hospital.”

“You would have gone back to Marcus.”

I stared at him.

He was right.

Before I could answer, the door opened.

A man entered carrying a sealed envelope.

“We searched Blake’s apartment,” he said.

“You need to see this.”

Adrien took the envelope.

He opened it.

Inside was a photograph.

Of me.

At twelve years old.

Standing outside my childhood home.

Behind me was a woman whose face had been violently scratched away.

I stopped breathing.

My mother.

Even with her face destroyed, I recognized the coat.

The bracelet.

The way she held my shoulder.

Adrien flipped the photograph.

On the back, someone had written:

FIND THE GIRL BEFORE VISCARI LEARNS SHE SURVIVED.

Adrien stared at the message.

Then looked at me as though he had just seen a ghost.

“Lena.”

“What was your mother’s name?”

Before I could answer, gunfire shattered the window.

The glass exploded inward.

Adrien moved instantly.

He knocked me to the floor and covered me with his body.

“Stay down.”

More gunshots.

The guards outside returned fire.

I heard shouting.

Then silence.

Adrien rose.

He looked toward the ruined window.

His expression had changed.

Not fear.

Recognition.

Someone had known where I was.

Someone had known I'd be brought here.

And someone had been willing to attack The Velvet Crown to get me.

Adrien picked up the photograph again.

“Lena.”

I stared at him.

“My mother's name was Elena Hart.”

His face became completely still.

“I knew a woman by that name.”

My heart stopped.

“When?”

“Before you were born.”

I swallowed.

“That’s impossible.”

“No.”

He looked at the photograph.

“It's not.”

Then he turned toward me.

“Your mother didn't die when you were seven.”

I stared.

“What?”

“She was murdered.”

The room disappeared.

Adrien stepped closer.

May you like

“And whoever tried to kill you tonight wasn't trying to punish you.”

“They were trying to stop you from finding out who she really was.”

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