My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, the noise of it filling my ears.

I closed the tab quickly when I heard heavy footsteps in the hallway outside.

Silas, Dante’s primary bodyguard, leaned his head into the room.

“Mr. Russo wants you in the main study,” Silas said, his voice flat.

I stood up, my legs feeling like lead.

“Of course,” I said, smoothing down my skirt.

I left the laptop open but returned to the main database screen, my mind spinning with a hundred terrifying questions.

***

Over the next ten days, Dante put my psychology training to the test.

He did not ask me to handle weapons or count money.

Instead, he brought me into the quiet, wood-paneled back rooms of his high-end restaurants and private lounges.

My job was to talk to the people who were becoming liabilities to his organization.

The first was a young driver named Leo, whose heavy gambling debts had made him erratic and paranoid.

Dante sat in the corner of the dim office, his face shadowed, watching me while I spoke to the young man.