Chapter 1 - THE MAN BEHIND THE DUMPSTER
The most feared mafia boss in Chicago was bleeding on my secondhand bed, and his enormous dog had just decided my tiny apartment belonged to him.
I stood in the bedroom doorway, holding the silver lighter between two trembling fingers.
"You're Arthur Romano."
The injured man didn't deny it.
He simply watched me with his one uninjured gray eye.
"That depends," he said quietly. "Are you going to scream?"
I swallowed.
"Would it help?"
"No."
"Then probably not."
His mouth twitched, almost forming a smile, before pain crossed his face.
Everybody in Chicago knew Arthur Romano.
He controlled shipping companies, casinos, luxury hotels, and enough men to make powerful politicians suddenly remember urgent appointments elsewhere.
People said he could destroy a business with one phone call.
Others claimed he had never forgiven a betrayal.
Yet here he was, lying beneath my grandmother's faded quilt while his dog occupied my kitchen.
I placed the lighter on the dresser.
"Someone tried to kill you."
"Yes."
"And now they're probably looking for you."
"Definitely."
I crossed my arms.
"Wonderful. I make eleven dollars an hour plus tips, and apparently tonight I've adopted a crime boss."
His gaze sharpened.
"Why did you help me?"
I blinked.
"Because you were tied to a pipe."
"You knew someone might be watching."
"I didn't know who you were."
"You know now."
"Unfortunately."
A quiet sound escaped him.
He was laughing.
Barely.
Then the dog padded into the room.
The giant Cane Corso placed his broad head on the mattress beside Arthur's hand.
Arthur's expression changed instantly.
"Brutus."
The dog whined.
Arthur reached down with shaking fingers and touched his head.
For several seconds, the terrifying man disappeared.
All I saw was someone desperately relieved that his best friend was alive.
"He's been with me for eight years," Arthur whispered. "Never left my side."
"Well, he almost ate my leftover meatloaf."
"He has good taste."
"That's debatable."
Arthur looked at me again.
"You need to leave this apartment."
I stared.
"Excuse me?"
"Take what you need. I'll arrange somewhere safe."
"You're injured, remember? You don't get to start giving orders."
"Maeve."
The way he said my name made me stop.
Not because he sounded threatening.
Because he sounded afraid.
"Whoever did this knows Brutus was with me," he said. "If they find him, they'll find you."
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed my apartment building.
Taken from across the street.
Less than five minutes earlier.
Beneath it was one sentence.
Tell Arthur Romano that the next person we tie up will be the waitress.
My blood turned cold.
Then another message arrived.
This one contained a photograph of my younger brother, Danny.
He was standing outside his college dormitory.
May you like
And beneath his picture were four terrifying words.
WE KNOW YOUR FAMILY.
