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We haven’t talked about what happened in the library. What crossing that line means or if he regrets it. I push that thought away. He doesn’t regret it. Not according to his text messages anyway.

I quickly send a reply.

And I look forward to it.

The hours between now and tonight are going to go agonizingly slow, and I know I am going to go crazy waiting.

I can’t sit around waiting and feeling so giddy and lovesick; I need to move.

Deciding to hit the plaza shops for some window shopping, I climb out of bed and get ready.

I pull my hair into a ponytail, slip on my jeans and boots, and take the keycard he gave me down to the plaza.

I’m not supposed to leave the penthouse without speaking to Dante, but whatever is happening today is big, and I'm not about to have him pull a security person off the job so he can watch me stare at handbags.

Besides, I'm in the middle of the mafia king's casino. If there's one place in this city where nothing can touch me, it's here.

The elevator doors open onto Fortune's bustling plaza, and I step into the impressive lobby.

Above me, a chandelier the size of a bus hangs from the center of a massive gold-leafed dome, dripping spangles of light onto cream-and-gold marble.

Across from the casino entrance, a row of designer stores runs the length of the wall, one flawless thing glowing in each window.

Passing the jewelry store, I stop to take in a dazzling display.

There are no prices on anything, and I realize it’s one of those stores where if you have to ask, you can't afford it.

In one of the display windows is a spectacular necklace. The center stone is the size of a half dollar and is surrounded by a river of diamonds.

I lean in close to the glass.

"It is vulgar, no?"

The accented voice comes from my right.

I turn to see a man standing beside me, looking very pleased with himself. Somewhere in his twenties or thirties, he has slicked-back hair, a sharp face, and pale eyes that feel unnerving.

He seems friendly enough, though. Although my body seems to have other ideas because the skin on my arms tightens with goosebumps.

Without thinking, I take a step back.

A second man is with him. He’s younger with a nicer face, and he hangs back a few feet. He looks at me once, then looks away, and I can't read a single thing about him. But he isn't watching me the way the accented man is. He's watching everything else going on around us in the plaza.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to startle you."

He smiles, and it should put me at ease, but it doesn’t. For one strange second, I feel like I’m not in the safety of the plaza anymore. I remember what it felt like when danger entered the room before I could see it. My skin would prickle, and my stomach would knot. Both are happening now.

He nods at the display of diamonds in the window. "A great deal of money spent so that everyone can see it has been spent. Where I am from, real wealth is quiet."

"It's a casino," I say. "I don’t think quiet is the expectation."

He laughs, and the sound slides over my skin like something damp and cold.

"Touché, Mrs. Di Zaro."

My stomach drops because I don't know this man, and I never told him my name.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"