“What are you talking about?” I asked.

My heart was hammering against my ribs.

“The boss… he bought this beast from a guy in Kentucky,” the man gasped. “A guy who wanted you gone.”

I stopped breathing.

The air in the stable suddenly felt freezing cold.

“Silas Vance,” I said.

The name tasted like ash in my mouth.

“That’s him,” the gunman whispered, his head sinking back against the concrete. “Vance sold the horse to the Morettis. He knew the horse was damaged. He wanted the Morettis to blame you when it died.”

“Why?” Dante asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Vance wanted her ruined,” the man said. “He told Kroll she was the only one who could fix the animal. He wanted her dead too.”

I leaned against the wooden partition, my knees suddenly weak.

Silas Vance.

The man who had taken my career, my reputation, and my family’s farm.

He had used Vesper as a trap.

And I had walked right into it.

“He’s lying,” Dante said, though his eyes remained fixed on the mercenary.