A sniper fired through the chapel window seconds after their political wedding became legal.
Ava Cross had no time to absorb the betrayal. At a courthouse guarded by federal agents and Mafia soldiers, every witness turned toward her, waiting for tears, surrender, or an apology. She gave them none. Whoever had arranged this expected her to freeze long enough for the trap to close. Instead, she seized the first piece of evidence and headed for the only exit still open.
Luca Vieri blocked it.
He arrived with armed security, a locked phone, and the composure of a man who already knew which camera had recorded the crime. When he caught her wrist, he pulled her out of the line of fire—but not out of danger.
“Let me go,” she said.
“The moment I do, the person who staged this takes you,” Luca Vieri replied. “You can hate me after we survive the next five minutes.”
He knew her name, the route she had taken, and the one detail no stranger should have known about a sniper fired through the chapel window seconds after their political wedding became legal. Ava Cross demanded the truth. He answered by showing her a sealed record created before they had ever met. It carried her signature, his family mark, and a payment authorized by someone she still trusted.
They opened the first page together. It contained the sentence everyone around them had been willing to kill to hide: Luca has been feeding Ava evidence because her own chief prosecutor runs the rival syndicate.
Before Ava Cross could read the proof, the exit slammed shut. A red laser sight crossed her chest while a familiar voice took control of every speaker in the room.
“You found the wrong secret,” the voice said. “Open the door and give me Ava Cross, or Luca Vieri dies before she learns the rest.”