Chapter 2 - THE GIRL WHO DISAPPEARED FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
The second bullet hit the SUV inches above Dante’s head.
Talia didn’t flinch.
“Stay down,” Dante ordered.
She gave him a look.
“You stay down.”
Before he could respond, she crawled to the rear tire, used the side mirror of the car behind them to catch a reflection across the street, and counted.
Third-floor window.
Fire escape.
Gray jacket.
Shooter.
“There.”
Dante’s men were already moving, but Talia caught his sleeve.
“He wants them to chase him.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s showing too much of himself.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
Then the black sedan across the street exploded into motion.
Not toward the shooter.
Toward them.
Talia shoved Dante backward as the sedan jumped the curb.
They rolled behind a concrete planter.
The car missed them by less than three feet and slammed into a newspaper box.
Dante reached for his weapon.
Talia was faster.
She kicked the driver’s door shut as it opened, trapping the man’s arm, then ripped the weapon from his hand.
The driver stared at her.
Recognition flashed across his face.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“Oh God,” he whispered.
Talia froze.
The man smiled through bloody teeth.
“Hello, Natalia.”
Dante heard it.
So did two of his men.
Talia’s face went white.
The driver suddenly reached under his jacket.
Dante pulled Talia away as one of his guards tackled the man.
A smoke canister hit the pavement.
Within seconds, the sidewalk disappeared behind thick white clouds.
When the smoke cleared, the driver was gone.
So was the shooter.
Dante turned toward Talia.
“Natalia?”
She stared at him.
“My name is Talia.”
“That man disagreed.”
“He was wrong.”
“He looked at you like he’d seen a ghost.”
“Maybe he had.”
Sirens screamed in the distance.
Dante stepped closer.
“You have about thirty seconds before police turn this sidewalk into a circus. Come with me.”
“No.”
“Someone just tried to kill you.”
“They tried to kill us.”
“They called you by a name you don’t use.”
Talia hesitated.
That hesitation told him more than an answer would have.
Dante opened the rear door of another sedan.
“I can protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting.”
“I know.”
That surprised her.
Dante lowered his voice.
“But your brother might.”
Talia grabbed him by the lapel.
“You stay away from Noah.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
“Then keep it that way.”
The sirens grew louder.
Talia released him.
Five minutes later, she was sitting beside Dante in the back of an armored SUV.
Neither spoke until they were three blocks away.
Then Dante placed the photograph between them.
“Tell me the truth.”
Talia stared at the twelve-year-old girl she used to be.
“My mother chose Mercer.”
“Why?”
“Because our real name could get us killed.”
Dante waited.
Finally, Talia looked him directly in the eyes.
“My name was Natalia Vale.”
Dante stopped breathing for half a second.
Because he knew that name.
Everyone in his father’s inner circle had.
Vincent Vale had been one of the most dangerous men the Marchelli family ever trusted.
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And fifteen years ago, Vincent Vale had died.
At least that was what Dante had always been told.
