“They brought us here. They said it was for our safety.”

“It is,” I said, though I didn’t believe it myself.

I led Mrs. Patel into the guest room, which was larger than my entire apartment.

The penthouse was vast, filled with marble floors, leather furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Chicago skyline.

It felt like a beautiful, expensive cage.

Dante stood by the glass, watching the wet street below.

“There are four armed guards downstairs,” Dante said.

“Two more are in the hallway outside this door.”

“You and Lily will stay here until Lorenzo is dealt with.”

“And how long will that take?” I asked, holding Lily close to my chest.

“As long as it takes,” Dante said.

He didn’t look at me.

He looked like a statue carved from dark stone.

I spent the next three days in the penthouse.

I couldn’t sleep.

Every sound made me jump.

The hum of the refrigerator, the creak of the building in the wind, the distant sirens on the streets.

I tried to keep busy.

I couldn’t just sit and wait for something terrible to happen.