Sienna hit the floor between the seats.

A violent impact struck the SUV.

The armored glass held.

The driver accelerated.

Sienna looked up.

Nico was covering her with his body.

“Still think I’m overreacting?” he asked.

“Ask me after my nervous system comes back online.”

He sat up.

Marco’s SUV followed behind them.

Sienna climbed into the seat.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere secure.”

“My apartment?”

“No.”

“My friend Tessa’s?”

“No.”

“My choice apparently wasn’t multiple choice.”

Nico looked at her.

“Someone came into my restaurant looking for that card. Until I know why, going home could put you in more danger.”

Sienna folded her arms.

“So where exactly does a suspected mafia boss take a waitress carrying mysterious contraband?”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Suspected?”

“People talk.”

“And you believe them?”

“You own an armored SUV.”

“That proves I dislike traffic.”

Despite herself, she laughed.

Twenty minutes later, they entered the underground garage of a private high-rise overlooking Chicago.

Nico led her upstairs.

The penthouse was elegant but surprisingly restrained.

Sienna stared through the windows.

“You live here?”

“Sometimes.”

“How many homes do you have?”

“How many questions do you ask?”

“Professionally? Hundreds.”

Marco arrived carrying a small reader.

He placed the black card on the table.

“It isn’t a bank card.”

Nico loosened his jacket.

Sienna noticed more tattoo work across his wrist as he rolled back his cuff.

Marco connected the card.

Numbers appeared.

Then files.

Hundreds of them.

Sienna leaned closer.

“What am I looking at?”

Marco went still.

Nico’s jaw tightened.

“Financial records.”

“Whose?”

“Mine.”

She stepped back.

“You think I stole them?”

“No.”

“That answer came fast.”

“Because if you had stolen them, you wouldn’t have carried them around in an apron beside three dollars in quarters and a peppermint.”

Sienna glanced at her apron.

“You searched it?”

“No. The peppermint is sticking out.”

“Oh.”

Marco opened another file.

“Transfers. Shell companies. Vendor payments.”

Nico moved closer.

“Crane found the leak.”

“What leak?” Sienna asked.

Marco glanced at Nico.

Nico answered.

“Someone inside my organization has been moving money and information to people trying to take control of several businesses.”

Sienna frowned.

“And Elliot discovered it?”

“Apparently.”

Marco suddenly stopped scrolling.

“Wait.”

A photograph appeared.

Elliot Crane.

Beside him stood a man Sienna recognized immediately.

She pointed.

“That guy.”

Nico turned.

“What?”

“He was at Vesper three nights ago.”

Marco stared at her.

“You’re sure?”

“I served him.”

“You remember every customer?”

“No. I remember terrible tippers.”

Nico almost smiled again.

Sienna caught it.

“There. Again.”

“Focus.”

“He sat at table twelve. Ordered bourbon. Didn’t drink it. Kept watching Elliot.”

Marco enlarged the image.

“Damian Rusk.”

Sienna looked between them.

“Friend?”

Nico’s voice hardened.

“Formerly.”

Marco opened another folder.

A list of dates appeared.

Vesper.

Hotel Aurelia.

The Valente Foundation.

Warehouses.

Meetings.

Nico’s expression changed.

“This is my schedule.”

Sienna’s stomach tightened.

Someone had tracked Nico for months.

Then Marco opened one final document.

Three words appeared:

DELIVERY: S. BROOKS

Sienna stopped breathing.

“That’s me.”

Nico turned slowly.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Nobody answered.

Sienna looked at the black card.

Then at Nico.

“Elliot didn’t accidentally bump into me.”

“No.”

“He chose me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Nico studied the screen.

“I intend to find out.”

Sienna shook her head.

“You keep saying ‘I.’”

His eyes met hers.

“This became my problem the moment someone entered my restaurant.”

“No. It became our problem when Elliot put that thing in my apron.”

Nico stared at her.

Marco quietly closed the laptop.

“I’ll make some calls.”

He left.

Sienna and Nico remained facing each other.

“You’re stubborn,” Nico said.

“You carried me like a sack of flour.”

“You were safer.”

“I lost a shoe.”

“I’ll buy you another.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“What is?”

She stepped closer and poked his chest.

Again.

Nico looked down.

Sienna realized what she’d done.

“Oh.”

His eyes lifted.

“You really have learned nothing.”

“Apparently not.”

His phone rang.

Marco.

Nico answered.

“What?”

His face changed.

“When?”

Sienna’s humor disappeared.

Nico ended the call.

“What happened?”

“Elliot Crane is alive.”

Relief flashed through her.

“Where?”

“We don’t know.”

Nico looked toward the black card.

“But somebody just used his credentials to access Vesper.”

Sienna frowned.

“The restaurant is closed.”

“Exactly.”

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