PART 1 The card had been in her wallet for three years. She had moved it from purse to purse — from the small clutch for charity events to the structured leather thing Callum had selected for her birthday — and she had never once called the number. Insurance she would never need. That was…
The mafia boss had not kept food down in two months, and the most feared man in Chicago had quietly stopped trying. His personal chef had been fired. His doctors had been dismissed. His lieutenants whispered about poison, about weakness, about the shape a man left behind when he stopped eating. Then a cleaning woman…
She had been working the floor of his nightclub for seven months without ever speaking to him directly — and she had been careful about that, the way careful people were careful around fire. She knew his name. She knew what the name meant in this city. What she did not know, what she could…
She was twenty-six years old, alone, hemorrhaging on an operating table, and the only person she managed to reach was a stranger she would never have contacted in a sane moment. She typed the wrong number. He answered anyway. By the time she woke up in a private room she hadn’t paid for, with monitors…
Among five high-society beauties competing for one powerful man, none of them expected the woman he’d choose to be on her knees on the ballroom floor She had worked nine hours without a break, smiled at people who looked through her, and carried trays heavy enough to wreck her shoulders — and when the crystal…
She had spent twelve years making herself forgettable inside a company built on other people’s crimes — and the night she finally stopped, a man who terrified the entire city looked at her like she was the only real thing he had ever seen. PART 1 The numbers started talking at eleven forty-three on a…
The mafia boss stopped her at the door and said, “tell me the truth before you leave,” never expecting her answer would make him choose between absolute power and the one woman he could never control PART 1 The envelope arrived on a Tuesday, which was the kind of cruelty only life managed — not…
PART 1 The thing about surviving an abusive man was that you stopped trusting kindness before you stopped fearing cruelty. Mae Connell had walked forty miles through November cold before she let herself think that thought clearly. Forty miles of frozen road and blowing snow and one boot sole held on with twine she’d torn…
PART 1 The notice had been tacked to the general store wall in Caldwell so long the edges had curled and one corner had been gnawed by something with ambitions. Ida Crane read it three times, once for the words and twice because she wanted to be certain she had understood the insult correctly. COOK…
PART 1 The cruelest thing about small towns was how efficiently they recycled their worst jokes. Lenora Marsh had been hearing variations of the same one since she was fourteen years old and grew taller than every boy in her school year. She was twenty-nine now, broad through the shoulders and full through the hips,…
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