Chapter 1 - NINETY SECONDS LATER
The gunman made the mistake of looking past Brielle.
It lasted less than a second.
His eyes shifted toward the far end of the street, where the first black SUV came around the corner so hard its tires screamed against the pavement.
Then a second SUV appeared behind it.
Then a third.
The fruit vendor at the corner dropped behind his cart.
The gunman swore and tightened his grip on the pistol.
Brielle moved before she understood she had decided to move.
She swung the broken metal chair leg upward with both hands and struck his wrist.
The shot cracked into the brick wall above Rosa Moretti's head.
Sofia buried her face against her grandmother's coat.
The gunman's pistol hit the pavement.
Brielle drove her shoulder into his chest.
He stumbled back, recovered faster than she expected, and slammed the heel of his hand into the wound at her temple.
White light burst across her vision.
Her knees almost folded.
He caught her by the throat and dragged her close enough that she could smell stale coffee behind his mask.
"You should have stayed frozen, Dawson."
Brielle stopped breathing.
He knew her name.
More importantly, he knew the one word no stranger should have known how to use against her.
Frozen.
Ashland Avenue had been eleven years ago.
Nobody from that night was supposed to know where she was now.
The gunman shoved her away and sprinted toward the alley.
Two doors on the first SUV opened before the vehicle had completely stopped.
Men in dark suits poured onto the street with weapons already drawn.
The second SUV blocked the south end of the block.
The third stopped sideways across the intersection.
A tall man stepped out of the center vehicle.
He wore no visible panic.
That frightened Brielle more than panic would have.
His charcoal overcoat hung open over a black suit, and there was nothing hurried about the way he walked toward the scene even though his eyes had already found the little girl behind Brielle.
"Sofia."
The child's head snapped up.
"Daddy!"
The sound tore through the street.
The man's control cracked for exactly one heartbeat.
Dante Moretti crossed the remaining distance at a run.
Rosa released Sofia, and the girl threw herself into her father's arms.
Dante lifted her so fast her yellow flower fell to the pavement.
He checked her face, her arms, the back of her head, and then pulled her against his chest.
"Are you hurt?"
Sofia shook so hard that her teeth clicked.
"The lady saved us."
Dante's eyes moved to Brielle.
She was still standing because she had not yet given her body permission to stop.
Blood covered her palm.
Her left sleeve was torn at the shoulder.
One knee of her uniform pants had split open.
The broken chair leg was still in her hand.
Dante looked at the two attackers on the pavement.
Then he looked at the gun near the wall.
Then he looked back at Brielle.
"You did this?"
Brielle tried to answer.
The street tilted.
Rosa reached her first.
"Brielle."
Hearing her name from the older woman was almost as shocking as hearing it from the masked attacker.
Brielle stared at her.
"How do you know my name?"
Rosa's expression changed.
It was small.
But Brielle saw it.
Recognition.
Fear.
And something that looked too much like guilt.
Before Rosa could answer, one of Dante's men shouted from the alley.
"Boss, one got away."
Dante's face became unreadable again.
"Find him."
"We have two alive."
"Keep them that way."
The order was quiet.
Nobody misunderstood it.
A siren sounded in the distance at last.
Brielle almost laughed.
Ninety seconds too late had always been the story of her life.
Sofia twisted in her father's arms and reached toward her.
"Daddy, she's bleeding."
Dante looked down at the blood soaking Brielle's uniform.
"An ambulance is coming."
"I'm fine."
Her voice sounded far away.
"You're not."
"I've been worse."
That answer made him study her more carefully.
Brielle hated that look.
People who had money always looked at damage as if it were something that could be purchased, repaired, and returned in better condition.
She stepped back.
Pain shot through her ankle.
The broken chair leg slipped from her fingers.
The metal struck the street.
Brielle followed it down.
She remembered Dante catching Sofia with one arm while reaching for her with the other.
Then the street went black.
When Brielle opened her eyes again, the ceiling above her was white.
A monitor beeped to her right.
Her palm had been stitched and wrapped.
Someone had cleaned the blood from her face.
Her head felt too heavy for her neck.
She turned toward the window and saw Chicago glowing against the night.
A little girl sat asleep in the chair beside her bed.
Sofia's shoes did not touch the floor.
She had the crushed yellow flower resting in her lap.
Dante stood at the window with his back to the room.
"Why is she here?"
His shoulders shifted.
"She refused to leave."
Brielle pushed herself higher against the pillow.
"She's five."
"I'm aware."
"You're her father."
"I'm also aware of that."
Brielle stared at him.
"Then make her go home."
Dante turned.
Up close, he looked younger than the rumors made him sound.
Late thirties, maybe.
Dark hair cut short.
A faint scar along the left side of his jaw.
Eyes that never seemed to stop measuring the room.
"She watched you stand in front of a gun for her."
His voice lowered.
"Tonight, she feels safer in a hospital room with you than inside a guarded estate with me."
The words carried no accusation toward Brielle.
All of it was aimed inward.
Brielle looked at Sofia again.
"That shouldn't be true."
"No."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"It shouldn't."
The door opened.
A broad-shouldered man entered and handed Dante a phone.
"Nico found something."
Dante glanced at Brielle.
"Say it."
The man hesitated.
"The two men we took alive are dead."
Brielle's eyes sharpened.
"Dead how?"
The man looked at Dante rather than her.
"One collapsed in transit."
"And the second?"
"Same thing three minutes later."
Dante's face changed by degrees.
"Poison?"
"Medical examiner hasn't confirmed it."
"They were searched."
"Yes."
"Then somebody knew exactly what they were carrying and failed to remove it."
The man nodded once.
"There's more."
He held out a clear evidence sleeve.
Inside it was a small black plastic access card.
A silver M had been printed on one side.
Dante went still.
Brielle knew the symbol from newspapers, buildings, and charity galas she had served from the kitchen door.
Moretti Holdings.
"Where did you find that?"
"Inside the jacket of the man with the broken wrist."
Dante took the sleeve.
"This level of card is issued only to estate security and executive drivers."
Brielle's gaze moved from the card to Dante.
"So the people who tried to take your mother and daughter had access to your house."
"Or somebody wants me to believe they did."
Brielle thought of the gunman's words.
You should have stayed frozen, Dawson.
Her pulse quickened.
"He knew me."
Dante looked at her sharply.
"Who?"
"The man who got away."
"What did he say?"
Brielle stared at the blanket over her legs.
For eleven years, she had learned how to carry Ashland Avenue without speaking its name.
She had become very good at it.
"He called me Dawson."
Dante waited.
Brielle swallowed.
"And he told me I should have stayed frozen."
The silence in the room changed.
The man beside Dante looked confused.
Dante did not.
Neither did the woman who had just entered behind him.
Rosa Moretti stood in the doorway.
Her silver hair had been pinned back, and a dark coat covered the same dress she had worn during the attack.
Her face had gone pale.
Brielle saw it immediately.
"You know what that means."
Rosa's lips parted.
Dante turned toward his mother.
"Mama?"
Rosa gripped the doorframe.
"Brielle, what was your mother's name?"
Brielle felt something cold move through her chest.
"Elena Dawson."
Rosa closed her eyes.
Dante crossed the room.
"What is it?"
Rosa opened her eyes again.
She looked at Brielle with the expression of a woman seeing a ghost that had taken eleven years to arrive.
"I knew your mother."
Brielle stopped moving.
Rosa's next words landed harder than the iron rod had.
May you like
"And the night your sister disappeared, Elena called me three times."
