Chapter 1
When the gun pressed against my forehead, my first instinct wasn't to scream.
It was to assess.
Distance. Angle. Direction of the barrel. How much pressure the man's finger was putting on the trigger.
As an ER nurse, I dealt with moments that spun out of control every day.
People screamed from pain. People lashed out from fear. People who were almost dying still insisted they were fine.
The truly dangerous ones usually weren't angry. They were quiet.
And the man in front of me... was so quiet it sent a chill through me.
"Don't move," the man said. His voice was low, without a trace of warmth.
I slowly raised my eyes.
And saw his face clearly for the first time.
Dante De Luca. Thirty-four years old.
One of the most dangerous men in New York's underworld. And the man deciding whether I would survive the night.
I'd heard the stories about him.
People said he controlled the city's darkest deals.
People said he never had to raise his voice.
Because everyone obeyed him anyway.
But the stories never told me what it felt like to have Dante De Luca standing right in front of you.
He was tall. A black suit stretched across broad shoulders. One cuff had slipped back slightly, exposing an old scar on his wrist.
His face gave away nothing. Sharp features. Calm eyes. The look of a man who had already accepted every possible outcome.
But as a nurse, I noticed something else.
His right hand. There was a fresh wound in the web between his thumb and index finger. The edges were red, the skin slightly swollen.
"Your hand is infected," I said.
Dante's brow moved almost imperceptibly.
"What?"
"Your right hand."
I looked at the wound.
"Gunshot or knife wound." I continued, "It wasn't cleaned properly. If you leave it like that, you could have a fever by tonight."
The man beside him looked at me.
He wore a black shirt, stood perfectly straight, and watched everything with a guarded stare. Luca Romano. Dante's most trusted lieutenant.
"You're tied up," Luca said coldly.
"And you're worried about the Boss?" I looked at him.
"I'm not worried."
I paused.
"It's a medical assessment."
"If he dies, I'm guessing that creates more problems for all of you." Luca said nothing.
Dante kept looking at me for a long time.
The look made me uneasy. It wasn't how someone looked at a stranger for the first time. It was more like he was confirming something.
"You really don't know who you are," Dante said.
I frowned.
"If this is your interrogation technique, I suggest you try another one."
I glanced at my wrists. The ropes were tight enough to cut the skin.
"Usually, after you kidnap someone, you're supposed to tell them why."
Dante didn't answer.
He stepped closer, pulled a file from his pocket, and tossed it in front of me.
A photograph slid out. A baby. An old record. And a familiar pendant.
My breath caught.
That silver pendant had been around my neck for as long as I could remember.
My adoptive parents told me it was the only thing my birth mother had left me.
Dante saw it. For the first time, his expression changed. Barely.
But I caught it.
"Take it off," Dante said.
I looked up.
"Why?"
Dante stared at the pendant.
"Because it shouldn't still be on you."
My fingers tightened.
"You know it?" I asked.
Dante didn't answer. Somehow, that unsettled me more than any answer could have.
"What exactly do you know?" I asked.
Dante looked down at the file.
"Your name is Sienna Vale. But that isn't your real identity."
I gave a short laugh.
"And?"
"Your past is fake," Dante said without emotion.
"Your parents are fake. Your birth records are fake too."
My smile slowly disappeared.
"My father is a dentist. My mother owns a flower shop. I grew up in an ordinary family." Dante looked at me.
"They aren't your biological parents."
I stared at him.
"So you kidnap a nurse and tell her her entire life is a lie?"
"And you think I'm supposed to believe you?"
Dante didn't get angry.
He only said,
"You should. Because of your real last name."
He paused for one second.
"Moretti."
The room went still.
Moretti. I knew that name.
A mafia family that had disappeared twenty-six years ago.
"So."
I looked at the gun.
"You're going to kill me."
Dante didn't answer.
His silence already had.
"Why?" I asked.
Something dark flickered in Dante's eyes.
"Because your existence could start a war."
"Whose war?"
"Everyone's."
"Including yours?"
This time, Dante paused longer.
"Especially mine."
I froze. But a second later, his expression turned cold again.
Footsteps sounded outside the door.
Luca checked the time.
"Boss," he said.
"It's midnight."
Dante didn't respond.
He looked at my wrists.
The ropes had already rubbed the skin raw. The next second, he reached down and cut them.
I stared at him.
So did Luca.
"Boss?" Luca said.
He clearly didn't understand.
Dante only looked at me.
"Don't misunderstand," he said.
"I need you conscious."
I rubbed my wrists and watched him.
"You sure that's all?"
Dante didn't answer.
I couldn't read his silence.
He had just cut me free. But the gun was still in his hand.
Dante raised it again.
This time,
I didn't look away.
"If you really think I deserve to die," I said, "then at least look at me."
Dante didn't move.
"Don't look at your family. Don't look at your orders. Look at me."
The warehouse fell silent.
For the first time, confusion crossed Luca's face.
He looked at the gun in Dante's hand, then back at me.
Dante slowly lifted his eyes and met mine.
And for one second, I had the absurd feeling that he wasn't looking at an enemy.
He was looking at someone he didn't want to lose.
Ridiculous.
I killed the thought immediately. He was Dante De Luca. He was the man about to kill me.
But then...
He said,
"I'm sorry."
My breath stopped. Why was he apologizing?
Bang.
The gun went off.
I don't know how long I was unconscious.
When I woke, the first thing I knew was that something was wrong with my body. Too heavy. Too unfamiliar.
I lifted a hand.
And froze.
It wasn't my hand. The knuckles were broad and defined. There was an old scar across the back.
I rushed to the mirror.
The face staring back stopped me cold.
Black hair. Sharp features. Dark eyes.
Dante De Luca.
"Impossible..."
The sound came out of my throat.
But it was a man's low voice.
The door opened.
Luca stood there. He looked at me, then lowered his head.
"Boss."
My heart started pounding.
"Mr. De Luca, are you all right?"
I couldn't say a word.
"Get out," Dante said in my voice.
"Give him a minute."
Luca looked at me. I forced myself to nod. Only then did he leave and close the door.
Because a second later,
my own voice came from the other side of the room.
My face. My body.
But not my soul.
The man inside it looked at me
with Dante's eyes.
"If you scream, they'll kill you," he said.
He stepped closer.
"If you tell them the truth, they'll kill both of us."
My body stopped in front of me.
Then, wearing my face, Dante said,
"Congratulations, Sienna. Now you finally know what power feels like." He looked at me.
"Because now—you have my identity."
A pause.
"My enemies."
"My death list."
"And my life."