Chapter 1 - THE BOY WHO SAID I WAS HIS FIANCÉ
For three seconds, nobody spoke.
Michael Moretti stared at his six-year-old son.
Then at me.
Then at the frying pan clutched in my hand.
Zach squeezed my fingers proudly.
“She said yes.”
One of the men behind Michael coughed into his fist. I had the distinct feeling he was hiding a laugh.
Michael wasn't.
“Did she?”
His voice was calm enough to scare me more than shouting would have.
I opened my mouth.
Before I could explain, Regina appeared behind Michael.
“There she is!”
Every muscle in my body locked.
My stepmother shoved past one of Michael's men and pointed at me.
“Aurora, enough. Tony is waiting.”
Michael slowly turned.
“Tony who?”
Regina froze.
Maybe she hadn't recognized him before.
She did now.
Her face drained.
“This is a family matter.”
Michael's eyes moved to the bruises around my wrist.
“Is it?”
I found my voice.
“She owes someone money.”
Regina snapped toward me.
“Your father owed money!”
“That isn't what you said five minutes ago.”
“Your father left debts.”
“My father has been dead eight years.”
Zach moved closer against my side.
Michael noticed.
“What does Tony want with her?” he asked.
Regina swallowed.
“Nothing like that.”
“Then explain the fifty thousand dollars.”
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
A black SUV screeched to a stop outside the restaurant.
Two men entered through the kitchen door.
One grabbed my arm.
“There you are.”
Michael's expression changed.
Not dramatically.
That somehow made it worse.
“Remove your hand.”
The man laughed.
“Who the hell are you?”
Michael's guard struck his wrist aside before I could blink. The second man lunged forward, but the other guard slammed him against a steel prep table and pinned him there.
No guns.
No blood.
Just frightening efficiency.
Zach whispered, “See? Dad's good at rescuing people.”
I almost laughed from pure panic.
Michael stepped between me and Tony's men.
“You're going to walk out of this restaurant,” he said quietly, “and you're going to tell Tony that Aurora Bell isn't available for collection.”
The first man glared at him.
Then he finally recognized Michael.
His anger disappeared.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Now.”
Both men left.
Regina tried to follow.
Michael stopped her with one question.
“Who told Tony she was worth fifty thousand?”
Regina looked at me.
Then away.
That was when I knew the answer wasn't simply debt.
Michael saw it too.
He turned toward me.
“You're coming with us.”
“I don't know you.”
“My son apparently intends to marry you.”
Zach nodded enthusiastically.
Michael almost smiled.
“Which means I'm going to have a very strange conversation with him later.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.
Then Michael's expression became serious again.
“But until I know why someone is putting a price on you, you shouldn't be alone.”
I should have refused.
Instead, I looked at Regina.
For months, she had always found me.
Different apartments.
Different jobs.
Different neighborhoods.
No matter where I ran.
Someone had been helping her.
I turned to Michael.
“One night.”
“Fine.”
Zach grinned.
“Our first family sleepover.”
“Absolutely not,” Michael and I said together.
Twenty minutes later, I was inside Michael Moretti's armored SUV.
As Brooklyn blurred beyond the window, his phone rang.
He listened without speaking.
Then his eyes shifted toward me.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“My people checked Tony's debt.”
“And?”
“Regina doesn't owe him fifty thousand.”
My stomach dropped.
“How much?”
“Nothing.”
I stared at him.
“Then why was he coming for me?”
Michael's jaw tightened.
“That's what worries me.”
He handed me a photograph his man had just sent.
It showed Regina meeting Tony outside a warehouse three weeks earlier.
On the back, someone had written one sentence:
DELIVER THE GIRL ALIVE.
Underneath was a signature.
May you like
The last name belonged to a man I hadn't heard mentioned since my father's funeral.
Moretti.
