I woke beneath white blankets.

Not in a hospital.

That frightened me immediately.

I sat up.

A woman in medical scrubs approached.

“Easy.”

“Where am I?”

“Mr. Moretti’s residence.”

I stared at her.

“I need the police.”

A voice came from the doorway.

“You can call them.”

Luca stood there without his coat.

The expensive charcoal shirt beneath his vest had its sleeves rolled to his forearms, exposing elaborate black tattoos running from his wrists upward.

He looked even more dangerous indoors.

“You kidnapped me?”

“I rescued you.”

“Those aren't always different things.”

That almost earned a smile.

“Fair point.”

He placed my phone on the table.

“You’re free to leave.”

I grabbed it.

No signal.

I glared at him.

“The storm took down several towers.”

“Convenient.”

“Very.”

He entered but remained near the door.

The room around me belonged in a luxury hotel: fireplace, tall windows, dark wood, no visible locks.

“Who are you?”

“Luca Moretti.”

“I know your name.”

“You’re asking what I do.”

“Yes.”

His gaze held mine.

“I own restaurants, construction companies and transportation businesses.”

“And?”

“And your husband calls men like me criminals.”

I froze.

“Are you?”

Luca looked toward the fireplace.

“Daniel would say yes.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

His eyes returned to me.

“I’m not going to lie to you while asking you to trust me.”

That was answer enough.

Mafia.

The word landed silently between us.

I pulled the blanket closer.

“You know Daniel.”

“I know what Daniel has been doing.”

“What?”

Luca nodded toward my coat, hanging beside the fireplace.

“When my doctor removed it, something fell from the lining.”

My heart stopped.

Luca placed a tiny memory card on the table.

I reached for it.

He didn’t stop me.

“You looked?”

“No.”

I blinked.

“Why not?”

“Because it belongs to you.”

That answer confused me more than anything else.

“Daniel would have looked.”

“I’m not Daniel.”

A knock sounded.

A man entered.

“Boss.”

“What?”

“We confirmed it.”

Luca glanced at me.

“Say it.”

The man hesitated.

“Bennett reported his wife missing forty-seven minutes ago.”

My mouth went dry.

Luca’s expression hardened.

“What did he tell them?”

“That Mrs. Bennett disappeared from their Albany townhouse after an argument.”

I stared at him.

“No.”

The man continued.

“He claims she took cash, jewelry and prescription medication.”

“I don’t take prescription medication.”

Luca’s jaw tightened.

“He’s creating a story.”

I threw off the blanket.

“I need to go.”

Luca blocked neither me nor the door.

“Where?”

“Home.”

“That is exactly where Daniel expects you.”

“I need evidence.”

“You already have evidence.”

I held up the card.

“Not enough.”

Luca studied me.

“What else?”

I hesitated.

Then remembered something.

“My blue suitcase.”

“What about it?”

“Daniel packed it himself.”

“So?”

“He told police I disappeared from home.”

Luca understood instantly.

“But if we can prove he drove you north with luggage…”

“He lied.”

Luca turned toward his man.

“Find the car.”

The man nodded.

“Quietly?”

“Very.”

He left.

I stared at Luca.

“Why are you helping me?”

For the first time, his expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

“Because your husband once destroyed someone who couldn’t fight back.”

“Who?”

“My sister.”

Silence.

“What did Daniel do?”

Luca looked toward the falling snow outside.

“He used her name the same way he used yours.”

I looked at the memory card.

“Financial documents?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to her?”

“She lost everything.”

His voice remained controlled, but his tattooed hand closed slowly into a fist.

“She spent three years proving she wasn’t responsible.”

“Is she alive?”

“Yes.”

Relief crossed me unexpectedly.

Luca noticed.

“My sister survived Daniel Bennett.”

Then he looked directly at me.

“And so did you.”

A phone rang downstairs.

Seconds later Luca’s man returned.

“Boss.”

His face was tense.

“We found Bennett’s car.”

“Where?”

“At his house.”

“And the suitcase?”

The man looked at me.

“Still in the trunk.”

I stood.

“That proves he lied.”

“There's more,” he said.

“What?”

“He didn’t come home alone.”

Luca’s expression sharpened.

“Who’s with him?”

The answer made my stomach turn.

“Clare’s attorney.”