Chapter 1 - The Night She Refused to Leave Him Behind
At 11:42 p.m., the front doors of Blackwood Estate exploded inward.
Leora Higgins was on her knees, buffing a scuff mark out of the checkered marble, when the oak panels splintered off their iron hinges and the nor'easter screamed into the foyer like a living thing.
Freezing rain and dead leaves swirled through the grand hall.
The chandelier swayed, casting frantic shadows over the portraits of dead Morettis who had spent generations watching servants lower their eyes.
Leora looked up.
For one frozen second, nobody moved.
Then a man lurched through the shattered doorway.
He took two staggering steps and collapsed.
The sound was wet.
Final.
A dark pool spread beneath him against the white stone.
Leora scrambled backward, her polishing rag slipping from fingers that had gone numb.
Her instinct screamed at her to run.
She had worked at Blackwood for eight months.
She knew what the Moretti family was.
Violence was baked into the foundation of this house.
The staff had rules.
Do not ask questions.
Do not repeat what you hear.
Do not open locked rooms.
Do not look directly at certain men.
And above all, if gunshots ever came from the west grounds, do not investigate.
Tonight, every rule in the house told her to disappear.
But the man groaned.
Leora stared.
Then she crawled across the wet marble.
She turned him over.
It was Leo Moretti.
The heir.
She had seen him only twice before.
Tall.
Dark-eyed.
Always dressed in charcoal or black.
The kind of man who could stand silently at the end of a hallway and make three grown men suddenly reconsider their posture.
Now his suit was shredded.
Rainwater soaked the expensive fabric.
Blood covered his torso.
Two gunshot wounds.
His face was the color of candle wax.
“Mr. Moretti.”
His eyes fluttered open.
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist with a grip that should have been impossible for a man bleeding this much.
“They breached the gate.”
Blood bubbled at the corner of his lips.
“Samuel sold us out.”
Leora's stomach tightened.
Samuel Reed.
Head of security.
She knew the name.
Everyone did.
If Samuel Reed had betrayed Leo Moretti, then the entire perimeter was compromised.
No guards were coming.
The local police were fifty miles away and had a long-standing habit of arriving only when the Morettis wanted them to.
They were alone.
“I need to call an ambulance.”
She reached for the radio clipped to her apron.
Leo knocked it away.
It clattered across the marble.
“No.”
“You're bleeding to death.”
“They're monitoring the frequencies.”
His voice was barely more than a rasp.
“You call, they pinpoint my location.”
“Then I'll use my phone.”
“They'll trace it.”
Leora stared at him.
Outside, the storm screamed harder.
Then headlights appeared through the shattered doorway.
One.
Two.
Five.
Black SUVs raced up the mountain road.
Leo tried to stand.
His knees buckled.
“They're here.”
Leora's heart slammed against her ribs.
“What do we do?”
“The groundskeeper's cabin.”
She frowned.
“What cabin?”
“Half a mile north.”
“In this?”
“Through the woods.”
“You're joking.”
He stared at her.
He wasn't.
“They don't know about it.”
He coughed.
Dark blood touched his lower lip.
“Take me there.”
“You won't make it.”
“Then drag me.”
The first SUV stopped outside.
Doors opened.
Men spilled into the snow.
Leora recognized none of them.
But she recognized the way they moved.
Not security.
Hunters.
Leo grabbed her sleeve.
“If they find me in this house, they kill me.”
“What about me?”
“They kill you for seeing their faces.”
Leora's eyes burned.
She could run.
She could use the service corridor.
Her rusted Honda was in the staff garage.
She could leave through the back road before anyone noticed.
She owed this man nothing.
His family had ruined people.
Everyone knew it.
The Morettis owned shipping businesses, construction firms, nightclubs, and half the political favors in three counties.
People disappeared around families like this.
People who asked too many questions.
Leora had no business getting involved.
Then she thought of Sophie.
Her little sister.
Twenty-four years old.
Weak from treatment.
The $84,000 in medical bills.
The stack of hospital notices sitting on Leora's tiny kitchen table.
The way Sophie had held her hand last week and whispered, “Don't worry about me.”
As if Leora hadn't seen the fear in her eyes.
She looked at Leo.
A dying man.
A dangerous man.
A man who had just become the problem standing between her and the only exit.
“Damn it.”
She grabbed his collar.
“Come on.”
Leo stared at her.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving your life.”
“Why?”
“I haven't decided yet.”
She hauled him upward.
He was six-foot-two.
Dense muscle.
Dead weight.
Leora was barely five-foot-four.
Every muscle in her back screamed.
She pulled him through the shattered doors.
Freezing rain hit her face like needles.
Leo stumbled beside her, one arm draped over her shoulder.
The storm swallowed them.
“Wake up,” she hissed.
“I’m awake.”
“You're barely conscious.”
“Still counts.”
“At the stone wall?”
“Right.”
They reached the garden.
Leora could barely feel her feet.
Mud sucked at her shoes.
One came loose.
She tried to pull back.
The mud held it.
Leo stumbled.
She had a choice.
Save her shoe.
Or save the man.
She kicked free.
The shoe disappeared into the darkness.
“Perfect.”
Leo glanced down.
“You lost a shoe.”
“I noticed.”
“You're going to freeze.”
“So are you.”
“I have better shoes.”
She actually laughed.
It sounded insane.
They staggered toward the forest.
Behind them, voices echoed across the estate.
“Search the house!”
“He went north!”
“Check the lower grounds!”
Leora pulled Leo deeper into the trees.
The canopy offered a little protection.
The ground was worse.
Exposed roots.
Slick moss.
Jagged rocks.
Mud.
Snow.
Ice.
Leo stumbled.
Leora caught him.
His blood was soaking through her uniform.
“Stay awake.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
“What's your name?”
She stared at him.
“Seriously?”
“I need something to focus on.”
“Leora.”
He repeated it softly.
“Leora.”
She pulled his arm tighter over her shoulder.
“If we live through this, I'm giving you a raise.”
“If we live through this, I'm quitting.”
A weak laugh escaped him.
Then he collapsed.
Leora dropped to her knees beside him.
“No.”
She shook his shoulder.
“Leo.”
His eyes opened.
“Cabin.”
He pointed through the trees.
She saw it.
A dark wooden structure barely visible beneath snow-covered branches.
They were close.
She dragged him another hundred yards.
The front door was frozen shut.
Leora slammed her shoulder into it.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The wood cracked.
She shoved.
The door opened.
They fell inside.
The cabin smelled like dust, pine, and old wood.
There was no electricity.
No heat.
But there was a stone fireplace.
Leora pulled Leo toward it.
She removed his coat.
Blood soaked the shirt underneath.
One wound was at his side.
The other below his shoulder.
She ripped the fabric open.
Leo grimaced.
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Look.”
“I'm already looking.”
“It isn't pretty.”
“You're a mafia heir bleeding on a dirty cabin floor.”
She stared at him.
“Pretty left the conversation a long time ago.”
Despite everything, he laughed.
Then he winced.
Leora found an old emergency medical box.
Inside were bandages.
Alcohol.
A needle.
Thread.
Nothing useful for a gunshot wound.
She looked at him.
“I'm going to need you to stay conscious.”
“How?”
“Talk.”
“About what?”
“Anything.”
He stared at her.
“You.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Tell me about you.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked.”
“Not a lot of authority in a dying man.”
His mouth twitched.
“Still more than most.”
She shook her head.
“My sister is sick.”
He became still.
“What kind of sick?”
“Kidney failure.”
“That expensive?”
“You have no idea.”
“I might.”
“You probably do.”
She pressed gauze against his wound.
He groaned.
“You said she's your sister.”
“Yes.”
“Parents?”
“Mother died when I was seventeen.”
“Father?”
“Gone.”
“Dead?”
“I don't know.”
Leo studied her.
“You've had it rough.”
“You're one to talk.”
He smiled faintly.
Then his eyes closed.
Leora panicked.
“Leo?”
Nothing.
She slapped his cheek lightly.
“Hey.”
His eyes opened.
“You slapped me.”
“You passed out.”
“I was resting.”
“You don't rest after losing this much blood.”
“Apparently I do.”
She looked toward the windows.
The headlights of SUVs moved between the trees.
Leora froze.
“They're here.”
Leo tried to sit.
She pushed him down.
“Stay still.”
“They'll search the cabin.”
“Then we'll make them think we're somewhere else.”
“How?”
Leora's mind raced.
The cabin had a chimney.
She grabbed an old blanket.
There was a trapdoor behind the fireplace.
She opened it.
A narrow crawlspace disappeared underneath the cabin.
“Can you fit?”
Leo stared.
“Barely.”
“Then get in.”
He tried.
She supported him.
Every movement drew blood.
He nearly collapsed.
Leora shoved boards aside.
He slid into darkness.
She pulled the blanket over him.
Then she grabbed an old lantern.
She poured a little alcohol onto the floor near the doorway.
She lit it.
Smoke filled the room.
Within seconds, she was coughing.
Outside, men shouted.
“Search the cabin!”
Leora opened the front door.
She stumbled into the snow, coughing violently.
Two armed men approached.
One raised his weapon.
“Where's he?”
Leora screamed.
“I don't know!”
The men entered.
One searched the cabin.
Another grabbed Leora.
“You work at Blackwood.”
She shook.
“Yes.”
“Did you see Leo?”
“I saw someone running north.”
“Who?”
“I don't know!”
He shoved her against the wall.
“Where?”
She pointed.
“Toward the river.”
They looked at each other.
One cursed.
“Move!”
They disappeared into the storm.
Leora stayed still.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
A minute.
Then she dropped to her knees.
She opened the trapdoor.
“Leo.”
No response.
She grabbed the blanket.
His face was gray.
“Leo.”
His eyes opened.
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“You sent them the wrong way.”
“Yes.”
“You're a terrible liar.”
“I'm starting to regret saving you.”
He smiled.
“You shouldn't.”
Leora pressed her hands against his wound.
The bleeding had worsened.
Her stomach dropped.
“I need a hospital.”
“No.”
“You need a surgeon.”
“They'll find us.”
“You'll die.”
He looked at her.
“Maybe.”
She clenched her jaw.
“No.”
“What?”
“You don't get to die after making me drag you half a mile.”
He almost smiled.
“What are you going to do?”
She looked toward an old wooden cabinet.
Then at the medical box.
Then at the blood.
A crazy idea formed.
“I'm going to keep you alive.”
“With what?”
She stared at the needle.
“With whatever I have.”
Outside, the men continued searching.
May you like
Inside the cabin, Leora prepared to perform a desperate medical procedure she had no right to attempt.
And before dawn, she would learn something about Leo Moretti that would change the way she saw him forever.
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