Chapter 1 - THE GIRL WHO SAVED THE WRONG MAN
"You know what I hate about nice girls, Clara?"
Graham Pike stepped closer until his expensive leather shoes almost touched my worn sneakers.
"They always think somebody's going to save them."
The hallway light above us flickered.
It was eleven forty-seven at night, my brother was asleep three floors above, and the man who'd been threatening me for six months had just blocked the only entrance to our apartment building.
"I told you I'll have money Friday."
Graham smiled.
"You've been saying that for weeks."
"Because I've been paying you every week."
"Interest doesn't count."
I tightened my grip on the pharmacy bag.
Inside was Evan's heart medication.
Sixty-eight dollars.
Four hours of extra work.
And the difference between another sleepless night and knowing my little brother had what he needed.
Graham noticed the bag.
"What's that?"
"Nothing that concerns you."
He snatched it from my hand.
"Prescription medication?"
"Give it back."
He read the label.
"Your brother's still sick?"
My stomach twisted.
"Graham, please."
He laughed.
"Maybe you should worry less about his medicine and more about paying your debts."
Then he held the bag over the metal trash can beside the entrance.
My blood went cold.
"Don't."
"Twenty-eight hundred dollars, Clara."
"I don't owe that much!"
He leaned forward.
"You owe whatever I say you owe."
I reached for the medication.
He caught my wrist.
Pain shot through my arm.
"Let go!"
Suddenly, headlights washed across the wet pavement.
A black Cadillac stopped at the curb.
The rear door opened.
A tall man stepped onto the sidewalk wearing a charcoal overcoat.
He moved carefully, one hand pressed briefly against his abdomen beneath the coat.
His face was pale.
His dark hair was combed back.
And his eyes were the coldest gray I'd ever seen.
"Take your hand off her."
Graham froze.
For a moment, neither man moved.
Then Graham released me so quickly that I stumbled backward.
"Mr. Caruso."
The stranger approached.
"Do I know you?"
Graham swallowed.
"No, sir."
"Then why are you touching someone who clearly told you to stop?"
Graham's face turned white.
I stared between them.
Something about the stranger seemed familiar.
Not his face.
His voice.
Low.
Rough.
As though speaking cost him more energy than he wanted anyone to notice.
Graham attempted a smile.
"This is a private financial matter."
The stranger looked at the pharmacy bag still clutched in Graham's hand.
"Then why are you holding her brother's medication?"
Silence.
Rain tapped against the Cadillac's roof.
The stranger held out his hand.
"Give it back."
Graham obeyed.
Immediately.
The man passed the bag to me.
"Is everything inside?"
I checked.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
His expression softened slightly.
"Good."
Graham took one nervous step backward.
"Mr. Caruso, I didn't realize she was—"
"She was what?"
Graham stopped.
The stranger's voice became dangerously quiet.
"A person you shouldn't threaten?"
My heart hammered.
Then I noticed the man's hand pressed against his abdomen again.
The slight stiffness in his movements.
The fresh bandage visible beneath his shirt collar.
My breath caught.
"Wait."
He turned toward me.
"Yes?"
"Were you at St. Catherine's emergency department three nights ago?"
The man went completely still.
Graham looked confused.
I stared at him.
"AB negative?"
His expression changed.
"You're Clara Hayes."
My fingers tightened around the pharmacy bag.
And suddenly I understood.
The stranger bleeding to death behind those emergency-room doors hadn't been an ordinary man.
He was Leo Caruso.
The most feared mafia boss in Chicago.
And he had come to my apartment because I'd given him my blood.
But before I could speak, Graham whispered something that made Leo's expression turn murderous.
"Mr. Caruso, I didn't know she was the girl from the hospital."
Leo turned slowly.
"What girl from the hospital?"
Graham's eyes widened.
He'd said too much.
May you like
Then Leo asked the question that changed everything.
"How did you know she donated blood?"
