Chapter 1 - TWO TEQUILA SHOTS
At twenty-six, I had expected my birthday to be forgettable.
I had not expected Boston's most feared crime boss to throw me over his shoulder while half the city watched.
The night began with a broken heel.
It was almost midnight at The Velvet Room, an expensive nightclub tucked behind a black-glass entrance on Newbury Street. The place smelled like tequila, perfume, and money.
I had spent the entire evening working. Not celebrating. Working.
My name is Sophie Bennett, and for the past three years, I had been picking up whatever shifts paid the bills. That night, I was bartending because my coworker had called in sick.
At twelve minutes past midnight, my manager slid two shots across the bar.
"Birthday girl," he said.
I stared at him. "You remembered?"
"You're twenty-six. That's the kind of thing people remember."
I laughed. "Two shots. Then I'm going home."
He grinned. "That's what everybody says."
I drank the first. Then the second.
And perhaps it was the tequila. Perhaps it was exhaustion. Or perhaps I was simply tired of being afraid of people who had more money than I did.
Because that's when I saw him.
Matteo Conti.
He sat in the private section above the dance floor. Black suit. Black shirt. No tie. Dark hair pushed back from his forehead. A watch that probably cost more than my apartment. And eyes so cold they seemed to empty the room around him.
Everyone knew who Matteo Conti was. Boston's most powerful crime boss. Nobody said his name loudly. Nobody approached his table. Nobody touched him.
Apparently, I had missed that memo.
A drunk customer stumbled toward the private section and knocked into me. My drink splashed across my blouse.
"Watch where you're going," he snapped.
Something inside me finally broke.
I looked at Matteo. Then I walked upstairs. His guards immediately stepped forward. I stopped in front of him. He looked up slowly.
"Can I help you?"
"You can start by telling your people to stop staring at me like I'm about to explode."
One of his eyebrows lifted. Nobody moved.
I pointed at his chest. "You're Matteo Conti, right?"
Silence. "Yes."
I poked him once. "You look less terrifying up close."
Someone behind him inhaled sharply.
I poked him again. "And you have terrible manners."
The nightclub went silent.
Matteo stared at my finger. Then at me. "Are you drunk?"
"Two shots."
"That's enough."
"I think you're boring."
His mouth almost twitched. Almost.
Then a gunshot cracked through the room.
The sound was deafening. A champagne glass shattered behind me. Someone screamed.
Matteo moved faster than I thought possible. His arm wrapped around my waist. He yanked me downward.
Another shot exploded. The bullet struck the marble pillar exactly where my head had been.
I froze.
Matteo looked toward the entrance. His expression changed. Not fear. Recognition.
"Get down!" he ordered.
Men in black suits pulled weapons. People scattered.
I couldn't move. My knees had stopped working.
Then Matteo grabbed me. "Hey!"
He threw me over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
"Keeping you alive."
"I can walk!"
"Not tonight."
He carried me through a side door as shouting erupted behind us. My hands slapped against his back.
"Put me down!"
"No."
"You don't even know me!"
He stopped. For the first time, he looked directly into my eyes.
"I know enough."
"What does that mean?"
His jaw tightened. "It means the bullet wasn't meant for me."
May you like
My stomach dropped. "Then who was it meant for?"
His eyes held mine. "You."
