closing the door on the sound of the rain. “Drive,” Dante told the chauffeur. The car moved forward, navigating the dark ramps of the garage. I leaned back against the headrest, closing my eyes. The tension in my shoulders began to ease, but the fear was not entirely gone. Marcus was ruined, but a desperate man was a dangerous man. I opened my eyes and looked out the window as we emerged into the rain-slicked streets. The city lights blurred into long streaks of yellow and red on the wet asphalt. Dante’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. His brow furrowed. “What is it?” I asked. Dante did not answer immediately. He tapped the screen, opening a secure messaging application. A video feed appeared on the display, showing a live camera from a parking lot. A sleek black SUV was idling near a warehouse by the docks. The door of the SUV opened, and a woman stepped out into the rain, holding an umbrella. It was Evelyn Shaw. But she was not alone. She walked to the rear of the vehicle and opened the tailgate. Another figure stepped out from the shadows of the warehouse to meet her. My heart skipped a beat as the camera zoomed in on the man’s face.