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PART 1 My father delivered me to the Moretti estate on a Thursday afternoon in April, which I know because I had been counting the days since the agreement was signed and Thursday was the twenty-second. My name is Isabela Voss. I was twenty-four years old, the daughter of a man named Bernard Voss who…

PART 1: THE WRONG STAIRWELL The night that changed everything, Nadia Voss was arguing with a ceiling. Specifically, she was arguing with the load distribution problem on the third floor of the Riverside project, which had been irritating her for eleven days, and which was currently refusing to yield to any of her proposed solutions….

PART 1: THE BOY WHO KNEW HER NAME The bus pulled away from the stop exactly seventeen seconds before Clare Moreno reached it. She stood on the wet sidewalk and watched it go with the specific combination of helplessness and dark humor that was, at this point in her life, her primary coping mechanism. Thirty-one…

PART 1: THE LANGUAGE NOBODY EXPECTED The night the old don arrived from Palermo, the kitchen staff at Rosso e Nero heard about it three hours before he sat down. Word moved the way word always moved in professional kitchens — through the prep cook to the expeditor to the lead server, each version slightly…

PART 1: THE WOMAN IN THE CORNER Josephine Reyes had a theory about power. Power, she believed, was not loud. Power did not need to announce itself. The men she watched most carefully in the dining room of Montague’s on South Michigan — the men she had been watching for three years, learning by increments,…

PART 1 My father signed the contract on a Tuesday. He did not tell me. He came home that evening smelling of someone else’s expensive Scotch and sat at the kitchen table and looked at his hands for a long time, and I understood that whatever he had done, the weight of it had followed…

PART 1: THE WOMAN WHO DIDN’T MOVE The first thing Marco Venti noticed when he walked into Brennan’s Meat & Provisions was that the woman behind the counter did not stop what she was doing. This was a thing that did not happen. In Marco Venti’s experience, which was considerable and had been earned through…

PART 1: THE NOTE UNDER THE COFFEE CUP Nate Calloway had eaten at the same table in the same corner of Aldo’s Grill every Thursday night for eleven years, and in that time he had seen everything that needed seeing. He had seen a police sergeant take a bribe in the booth by the restrooms….

PART 1 The dress arrived on a Thursday. It was delivered to the Harrington estate in a white garment bag that the housekeeper carried upstairs with the careful reverence usually reserved for things that cost more than small houses. Ivory silk, hand-sewn lace at the collar and hem, buttons so small and perfectly placed that…

PART 1: THE GIRL WHO KNEW HIS NAME The night Ronan Keefe learned that something could still reach him, it arrived at fifty-seven pounds and asked if she could come in. He had not expected anything to reach him. At thirty-nine, Ronan had spent long enough being the most dangerous man in his particular part…