Chapter 1 - The Drunk Stranger at Table Four Was the Most Dangerous Man in the City—And Bella Was the Only Person Who Refused to Leave Him There“Oh, no.”
Dante Castello’s gray eyes narrowed slightly.
“You know me?”
Bella swallowed.
She had seen his face before.
Everyone had.
Dante Castello appeared in newspapers whenever a new luxury tower opened, whenever one of his shipping companies acquired another company, whenever a politician needed to be photographed beside a successful businessman.
But there were other photographs that never appeared in newspapers.
Photographs exchanged quietly between detectives, judges, lawyers, and men whose names were never printed at all.
Bella had never seen those.
She had only heard the rumors.
Dante Castello owned half the city’s waterfront.
Dante Castello never lost a negotiation.
Dante Castello had once made a rival company disappear in forty-eight hours.
People said he was ruthless.
People said he was dangerous.
People said if Dante Castello looked at you and remembered your name, it was already too late to pretend you were invisible.
Bella looked at the man sitting drunkenly at Table Four.
He didn't look dangerous.
He looked exhausted.
“You're Dante Castello,” she said.
His eyes remained on her.
“That's what people call me.”
“That's usually what a name means.”
A weak smile almost touched his mouth.
Bella didn't smile back.
“You're bleeding.”
He touched his temple.
His fingers came away red.
He stared at the blood with an almost detached expression.
“Apparently.”
“You need a doctor.”
“No.”
“That's not really optional.”
“It is for me.”
Bella sighed.
She had dealt with drunk businessmen before.
Most were loud.
Most were obnoxious.
Most believed money made them invincible.
Dante was different.
He barely spoke.
That was somehow worse.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes.”
He tried.
He failed.
Bella caught his arm before he hit the table.
His weight nearly knocked her sideways.
“Okay,” she muttered. “Apparently that was a lie.”
His mouth moved.
“Sorry.”
Bella froze.
It was the first apology she'd heard from a wealthy man in years.
“It's fine.”
She glanced toward Reynolds.
The manager was pretending to count receipts again.
Bella lowered her voice.
“Your room?”
Dante held out the key card.
“Penthouse.”
“Can you tell me the number?”
He gave her a look of irritation.
“I own it.”
“That wasn't the question.”
He actually smiled.
Very briefly.
“Forty-seven.”
Bella helped him to his feet.
He was heavier than he looked.
Together they crossed the lounge.
Reynolds stared.
“Rossi.”
Bella ignored him.
“Where are you going?”
“To take him upstairs.”
“Not your job.”
“It became my job when you told me to wake him.”
Reynolds looked angry.
“Don't bring trouble into the hotel.”
Bella looked at Dante.
Then at Reynolds.
“I think the trouble was already here.”
Reynolds's face hardened.
But Bella kept moving.
They reached the private elevator.
Dante leaned against the wall.
His eyes closed.
“Are you going to pass out?”
“No.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I usually know my limits.”
Bella glanced at him.
“Tonight?”
He opened his eyes.
“Tonight was different.”
The elevator reached the forty-seventh floor.
The penthouse hallway was silent.
Bella helped him unlock the door.
Inside was a world she could never have afforded.
Floor-to-ceiling glass.
Black marble.
Dark wood.
A piano no one appeared to touch.
The city stretched beneath them.
Dante stumbled toward a chair.
Bella guided him down.
“Sit.”
He obeyed.
She stared at him.
“You actually listen.”
“Sometimes.”
She found the first-aid kit in a bathroom.
She cleaned the cut on his temple.
Dante watched her.
“You're not afraid.”
Bella pressed gauze against the wound.
“I am.”
“You don't look afraid.”
“That's because I'm too tired to perform fear.”
He laughed softly.
The sound surprised both of them.
Bella stepped back.
“There.”
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
She started toward the door.
Then she noticed the laptop on his desk.
The screen was glowing.
An email window was open.
At the top was one word in red.
DELETE.
Bella stopped.
She didn't mean to read it.
But beneath the red word was another line.
ROSSI, MARIN.
Her breath caught.
She knew that name.
Marin Rossi.
Her younger brother.
Bella's brother had died six months earlier.
Or so everyone told her.
She turned toward Dante.
“What is my brother's name doing on your computer?”
Dante's face changed.
Every trace of drunken softness vanished.
“What did you see?”
“Marin.”
He stood.
Bella stepped back.
“Who was he?”
“Where did you get that name?”
“You know him.”
Dante moved closer.
Bella's fear returned.
But she didn't run.
“He was my brother.”
Dante stared.
For a moment, the room seemed to stop.
Then his voice dropped.
“Your brother is not dead.”
Bella couldn't breathe.
“What?”
Dante looked toward the laptop.
“Someone made you believe he was.”
Bella shook her head.
“I buried him.”
“No.”
“I saw his body.”
“No, Bella.”
He said her name for the first time.
She froze.
“How do you know my name?”
Dante didn't answer.
He closed the laptop.
“What happened to you?” Bella whispered.
Dante stared at her.
“I was trying to find your brother.”
“Why?”
“Because he had something that could destroy me.”
Bella laughed nervously.
“You're telling me my dead brother had something that could destroy Dante Castello?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
He looked at her.
“The truth.”
Bella backed away.
“What truth?”
Dante's expression became cold.
“Your brother discovered who owns the Grand Imperior.”
Bella stared.
“The hotel?”
“Yes.”
“You own it.”
Dante shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who does?”
He looked at her.
“That's the problem.”
Before Bella could ask another question, a phone rang.
Dante answered.
He listened.
Then his face changed.
“She's here.”
Bella's heart stopped.
He lowered the phone.
“Who?”
“My enemies.”
There was a knock on the penthouse door.
Three slow knocks.
Dante looked at Bella.
“Go into the bedroom.”
“No.”
“Bella.”
“No.”
He stared at her.
She crossed her arms.
“If someone is coming because of me, I'm not hiding.”
For the first time, Dante looked genuinely impressed.
“Stubborn.”
“Broke.”
“Same thing.”
The knock came again.
Dante moved toward the door.
Then Bella noticed something on the floor.
A small envelope.
It had slid beneath the door.
Dante picked it up.
There was one sentence.
SHE KNOWS NOTHING.
He looked at Bella.
She stared back.
“Who wrote that?”
Dante's jaw tightened.
Then he opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Bella.
At the hotel.
Three months earlier.
And behind her stood a man she hadn't noticed.
Her missing brother.
Marin.
Alive.
The photograph was dated two weeks after his funeral.
Bella's knees almost gave out.
Dante caught her.
“Easy.”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew he was alive.”
“I knew someone wanted me to think he was.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I wasn't sure you were safe.”
Bella laughed through tears.
“Safe?”
She pointed toward the door.
“I'm standing in the penthouse of the most dangerous man in the city at three in the morning.”
Dante looked at her.
“Exactly.”
The door exploded inward.
Three men entered.
Dante pushed Bella behind him.
Gunfire erupted.
Glass shattered.
Bella screamed.
Dante moved with terrifying speed.
The drunk man at Table Four had disappeared.
In his place stood someone else.
Controlled.
Precise.
Deadly.
Three minutes later, the room was silent.
One attacker lay unconscious.
Another had fled.
The third was pinned beneath Dante's arm.
Dante looked at Bella.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
He released the man.
“Call Nico.”
Bella stared.
“Who is Nico?”
“My security chief.”
“And what happens now?”
Dante looked at her.
“Now you leave this city.”
Bella shook her head.
“No.”
“No?”
“My brother is alive.”
Dante's expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“Then I'm finding him.”
“You have no idea what that will cost you.”
Bella looked at the blood on his sleeve.
“I already lost him once.”
She stepped closer.
“I won't lose him twice.”
Dante stared at her for a long moment.
May you like
Then he said something Bella would remember for the rest of her life.
“Then I won't let you.”
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