Chapter 1 - The Night Sienna Brooks Poked the Wrong ManBy the time Sienna Brooks realized the enormous man she had just poked in the chest was Nico Valente, her finger was still touching him.
Not hovering near him.
Not accidentally brushing his jacket.
Touching him.
For the second time.
The entire restaurant had gone silent.
Twenty seconds earlier, somebody in the kitchen had been laughing.
Glasses had clinked behind the bar.
A dishwasher had shouted about missing steak knives.
Sienna's best friend, Tessa Morgan, had been threatening to commit a felony against whoever ate the cheesecake she'd hidden in the walk-in refrigerator.
Now there was nothing.
Not even breathing.
Sienna slowly removed her finger from the open collar of the man's black shirt.
He looked down at her.
At five-foot-six, Sienna had never considered herself tiny.
She was twenty-eight, curvy, strong from carrying trays eleven hours a day, and perfectly capable of intimidating drunk businessmen twice her age.
Standing in front of this man, however, she felt approximately the size of an argumentative house cat.
He was well over six feet, broad through the shoulders, dark-haired, sharp-jawed, and dressed in a black suit that probably cost more than her car.
His eyes were worse.
Quiet eyes.
The kind that didn't need anger because everyone had already learned what happened after disappointment.
Sienna smiled.
It was the smile people used when realizing the animal they had been petting was not, in fact, domesticated.
"Could you move?"
Nobody moved.
The man's eyebrow lifted.
Behind Sienna, Tessa made a tiny choking sound.
Sienna pointed toward the employee schedule pinned to the wall behind him.
"You're blocking it."
The tall man glanced over his shoulder.
Then back at her.
"You poked me."
His voice was low and controlled.
Sienna considered pretending he had imagined it.
Unfortunately, fourteen employees had witnessed the event.
"I redirected you."
"With your finger."
"It's an advanced hospitality technique."
Someone coughed.
Sienna turned.
Marco Bellini, the restaurant's head of security, had abruptly become fascinated by the ceiling.
His shoulders were shaking.
Sienna narrowed her eyes.
"You're laughing."
"I would never."
"You are absolutely laughing."
The huge stranger continued watching her.
Then something nearly impossible happened.
The corner of his mouth moved.
Sienna gasped.
"You almost smiled."
Tessa whispered, "Sienna, please develop survival instincts."
"I have survival instincts."
"You're pointing at him again."
Sienna looked at her hand.
She was.
She lowered it.
"Right."
The stranger's expression flattened.
But his gaze moved suddenly past her shoulder.
Everything about him changed.
The near-smile disappeared.
His body didn't tense.
It became still.
Marco stopped laughing.
"Don't turn around," the stranger said.
Naturally, Sienna started turning around.
His hand closed around her wrist.
Not painfully.
Firmly.
"Sienna."
Her name in his voice did something unexpectedly stupid to her stomach.
She looked up.
"What?"
"Don't."
She finally noticed the man near the employee entrance.
Gray jacket.
Dark pants.
One hand inside his coat.
Another man had appeared near the kitchen corridor.
Sienna's tipsiness evaporated.
"We're closed," she whispered.
"I know," Marco said.
The second man started toward them.
The stranger stepped between Sienna and him.
It was so instinctive she needed a second to understand what he'd done.
He had placed his body in front of hers.
"Stay behind me," he said.
Sienna stared.
There it was.
The bossiness.
Even under terrifying circumstances, she found it irritating.
"You don't get to order—"
The man in gray moved fast.
Marco intercepted him.
A chair crashed.
Tessa screamed.
The second stranger reached beneath his jacket.
Sienna saw metal.
Then the floor vanished.
She barely had time to yelp before Nico Valente bent, caught her around the waist, and slung her over his shoulder.
For one second, Sienna's brain refused to process the humiliation.
Then it processed all of it.
"NICO!"
He was already moving toward the private corridor.
Her curls bounced around her face.
Her coworkers were staring.
Her backside was now approximately at eye level with half the staff of Vesper.
Tessa, the traitor, looked like she might laugh.
"Put me down!"
"No."
Sienna's mouth fell open.
"No?"
"No."
"I am a person!"
"I noticed."
"I am not luggage!"
"Luggage is quieter."
Tessa snorted.
"Tessa!"
That ended whatever self-control her friend had left.
She doubled over laughing.
"Traitor!"
Nico kept walking.
Sienna slapped one palm against his back.
"My dignity is back there."
"Your dignity poked me twice."
She went still.
That was annoyingly difficult to dispute.
A sharp crack exploded behind them.
Wood splintered beside the corridor entrance.
Sienna stared at the fresh hole in the wall.
Her stomach turned cold.
That had not been furniture breaking.
Nico's arm tightened around her legs.
"Marco has it."
She stopped fighting.
Her fingers closed around the back of his jacket.
The joke was over.
Someone had just fired a bullet toward them.
Nico carried her through a private door and into Vesper's underground garage.
Two dark SUVs waited with engines running.
Several men moved immediately.
He finally lowered her.
Carefully.
Her shoes touched concrete.
Sienna straightened her uniform with trembling hands.
One shoe was missing.
She decided that problem ranked low.
Nico studied her face.
"Are you hurt?"
She looked at him.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"My pride is severely injured."
His gaze moved to her wrist.
Then her shoulder.
Then her face.
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Good."
He turned.
Sienna grabbed his sleeve.
"Wait."
He looked back.
"Who were those men?"
"We'll discuss that later."
"No."
His eyes narrowed.
"Excuse me?"
"You don't get to carry me out of my workplace, scare half my staff, and then tell me we'll discuss it later."
Marco looked away.
Tessa would never let her forget this.
Nico stared at her for several seconds.
Then reached toward her apron.
Sienna flinched.
He stopped.
"Your apron."
"What about it?"
"There's something sticking out."
She looked down.
A black card was visible inside the pocket.
She pulled it out.
It was heavier than an ordinary business card.
Matte black.
Embossed with a silver crown.
Her expression changed.
She had seen that symbol once.
Her brother had warned her never to touch anything carrying it.
"Nico."
"Yes?"
She turned the card over.
A handwritten line appeared on the back.
RETURN THE VALENTE CARD BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
Sienna looked up.
"I don't have your card."
Nico stared at it.
Then at her.
"You do now."
She frowned.
"What does that mean?"
His expression darkened.
"It means whoever put that in your apron didn't put it there by accident."
Sienna's mouth went dry.
"Then why?"
Nico took the card from her.
Because only three people in Chicago possessed that particular card.
He was one.
His brother had been another.
The third had died eleven years earlier.
Or should have.
Nico looked at Sienna.
"Where did you get this apron?"
"Vesper gave it to me."
"Who handed it to you?"
"The night manager."
"Name."
"Frank."
Nico looked at Marco.
"Find Frank."
Marco nodded.
Sienna stared at him.
"You think he did this?"
"No."
"Then who?"
Nico looked toward the private garage entrance.
The night suddenly felt colder.
"I think someone wanted you to be carrying this when I saw you."
"Why?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out his phone.
A single photograph appeared on the screen.
Sienna.
Walking home three nights earlier.
Taken from across the street.
Then another.
Sienna leaving her apartment.
Another.
Sienna helping Tessa close the restaurant.
Another.
Sienna standing at the bus stop.
Her stomach dropped.
"How long?"
Nico looked at her.
"Two months."
"You've been watching me for two months?"
"No."
He paused.
"Someone has."
Sienna stared at him.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't know who."
"And now?"
His eyes met hers.
"Now I do."
She swallowed.
"Who?"
Nico turned the phone around again.
The final photograph showed a man standing beside Sienna's apartment building.
She didn't recognize him.
But beneath the photograph was a name.
Victor Santoro.
Sienna's breathing stopped.
She knew that name.
Everyone did.
Victor Santoro had vanished from Chicago eleven years ago.
A violent man.
A former rival of the Valente family.
A man rumored to have died in an explosion overseas.
Sienna looked at Nico.
"He's alive."
Nico nodded.
"And he wants me."
"No."
His voice hardened.
"He wants what you have."
Sienna stared.
"I don't have anything."
Nico looked at the black card.
"That's what he wants you to believe."
He took her hand.
"You're coming with me."
She opened her mouth to protest.
Then stopped.
Because something had begun to make sense.
The surveillance.
The men.
The card.
Her brother's warning.
And the way Nico had looked at her the instant he saw that black card.
Not like a stranger.
Not like a waitress.
Like someone he had been trying to find.
For a moment, his fingers tightened around hers.
May you like
Then he said the words that changed everything.
"Sienna, you are not an accident in my life."
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