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LILY
I didn’t expecta first-class ticket, but the drive back to New York is long and humiliating—and gives me plenty of time to wonder if I just made the biggest mistake of my life. Two days tied up in the back of a van, listening to Chase and the other guys speculate over just what Nero will do when we reach the city.
“He’s gotta make an example, after what her father did.”
“For sure. Everyone’s going to know, the Barretti family never forgets. You hear that?” Chase turns and gives me a chilling smile. “Nero’s going to have some fun with you.”
I don’t have to listen in on their conversation. I’ve spent the past ten years going over every scenario for myself. When your father rats out a Mob boss and gets him locked up in prison, you learn pretty fast that overnight, everything can change.
And just like now, I never saw it coming.
One minute, I was Lily Fordham, pampered daughter, society princess. My life revolved around private school gossip and exclusive parties: art classes and piano lessons and horse-riding at a stable upstate.
The next? My dad was telling me to pack a bag. He’d cut a deal to testify against his boss, Roman Barretti, and we were disappearing into Witness Protection. No more luxurious mansion and credit cards, no more flitting around New York City, no more passionate trysts with the boy I secretly loved. In a heartbeat, I was a thousand miles away, stuck in a modest tract home outside of St. Louis, one of a thousand at my local public school, working weekends at the local Applebee’s just to afford community college one day.
New name. New life.
I came back down to earth with a bump, that’s for sure.
My little brother was young enough to take it in stride, but my mom didn’t make the switch so easily. She’d married a wealthy finance whiz, with country club memberships and an account at Neiman Marcus. This new, modest, anonymous life wasn’t part of the deal. It turned out, ‘for richer, for poorer’ only went one way. She took off after a couple of years, and we never heard from her again.
Dad’s cancer diagnosis came a few years after that, and soon—too soon—it was just me and Teddy.
Now he’s all I’ve got in the world, and I’d do anything to protect him.
Even deliver myself directly into the hands of the new Barretti boss. I figured that with Roman still locked up, Nero would be the man in charge, and it looks like I’m right.
And every mile takes me closer to him.
Every mile brings me nearer to my fate.
I bite back the fear, bitter like metal in my mouth. All I have to go on is that split-second glimpse of him in the alleyway, a moment after a decade of nightmares. I thought I’d figure out a plan on the journey, some way to reason with Nero and get myself out of this mess, but I’m still drawing a blank.
What have you done?
It’s too late to turn back now, and I refuse to give Chase the satisfaction of seeing my fear. “I need a bathroom break,” I tell him instead.
“You just had one.”
“Hours ago. It’s that time of the month,” I add, lying, just to see him wince.
“Women,” he grumbles, but after a few minutes, the van pulls over. The door swings open, and harsh sunlight floods the back of the dark, cramped van.
“Five minutes,” Chase warns me, yanking me out. He uncuffs me, hauling me over to the grimy rest stop at the back of the gas station. There are a few cars parked around, and I glimpse the freeway signs nearby. New York City: 50 miles.
“Don’t try any clever business,” he adds, his voice dropping. He glances at the harried looking mom trying to hustle her kids out of the bathroom ahead of me. “I said I’d take you to Nero, but I didn’t promise what kind of state you’d be in when you arrive.”
I stifle a shiver of fear, remembering the bloodstains on his shirt.
“I’m not stupid,” I reply, keeping my voice icy. “Now, can you pick me up a water, or do I have to drink out of the faucet like a dog?”
Chase smirks. “You always were a bitch.”
I push open the bathroom door, resisting the urge to slam it in his face. I may be acting high and mighty, but under the surface, I’m scared half to death.
Scared, and running out of time to come up with a plan.
I look around the bathroom. Two stalls, a sink, a window high on the back wall… I could try and squeeze through make a run for it, but I wouldn’t get far. Chase isn’t dumb—and he’s just itching to make a point with me.
