Chapter 1

Vincent's fingers dug into my shoulders.

His grip was so tight my bones ached.

Rain poured down around us, washing over his suit and mixing with the mud and blood beneath us.

Vincent had always hated getting dirty. He wouldn't tolerate so much as a speck of dust on his shoes.

Yet now he was kneeling in the mud beside me.

"Selina," he said through gritted teeth. "Do you have to degrade yourself like this?"

I shoved his hand away and forced myself to my feet.

Pain stabbed through my ribs.

I gritted my teeth and bent down to collect my tools from the puddles.

"Is there a problem? I'm working."

I stuffed the bleach and body-dissolving solution into my waterproof bag.

"$500 for one body. $800 for two. Unless you've got a job for me, Mr. Moretti, get out of my way."

"I can give you money."

Vincent stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

"Your bank accounts are frozen, and you don't even have a place to stay. Come home with me. Everything can go back to how it was."

My gaze fell on the platinum wedding band on his left hand. It gleamed under the streetlight.

Seven years. I'd given him seven years of my life and walked away with nothing.

And now, with another woman's ring on his finger, he had the nerve to ask me to come back.

"Come back as what?"

I glanced at his wedding ring.

"Your killer? Or the woman you keep hidden in a safe house?"

Vincent said nothing.

Of course. He wanted Bianca on his arm at public dinners while I stayed hidden and did his killing for him.

He wanted both.

He couldn't have both.

The sound of heels splashing through a puddle broke the silence.

Bianca approached with several bodyguards following her.

"Vincent, what are you doing in a place like this?"

She looked at the bloody mess on the ground, then at me and laughed. "Oh. It's Selina."

Bianca walked over and slipped her arm through Vincent's.

"I hear you've been taking jobs on the black market. I guess it suits you. You always did like working with dead bodies. And with all that blood on you, you fit right in down here."

Vincent frowned and tried to pull his arm free, but Bianca held on tight.

"Go back to the car," Vincent said.

"I came for my husband."

She leaned against his shoulder and looked at me.

"Selina, we're throwing a party at our new house next week. If you need work, you can clean up afterward. I'll have the butler pay you double your usual rate."

Two years ago, I'd pulled this same woman out of a shootout between two drug gangs.

She'd been curled up under a car, sobbing and begging me to save her. I'd taken a bullet for her and dragged her to safety through a pile of bodies.

Now she stood in front of me, putting on airs and looking down on me like she'd been born to be the Donna.

I couldn't believe I'd ever risked my life for her. I was such an idiot.

"No, thanks. I've already got a body to clean up."

I ignored Bianca and looked straight at Vincent.

"You fired that shot. I'll clean up the blood and brain matter and make sure the cops don't find anything. I'll send the bill to your office."

I picked up my bag and turned to leave.

"Selina!"

Vincent grabbed my wrist.

"Stop this. Every mafia family in New York knows I blacklisted you. Nobody will give you legitimate work. How long do you think you can survive doing filthy jobs like this?"

"Let go," I said.

"Come home with me." There it was again—that commanding tone. He was so used to giving orders that he simply expected me to obey. "I still run New York's underworld. One word from me, and you can have everything you had before."

I drew the tactical knife strapped to my thigh and pressed the blade against the back of his hand.

His bodyguards immediately drew their guns and aimed them at me.

Bianca shrieked and ducked behind them.

Vincent didn't flinch. He just stared at me, certain I wouldn't actually cut him.

I pressed the blade into his skin.

Blood welled up beneath the blade.

"I said, let go."

Vincent glanced at his bleeding hand before slowly releasing my wrist.

I slid the knife back into its sheath.