The illusion of permanent peace, however, was shattered on a crisp November morning.

Elena was attending a high-level municipal budget meeting at City Hall, escorted by Marcus and two tactical officers. As she walked down the grand marble steps of the civic center carrying her leather briefcase, a frail-looking man in a tattered gray trench coat stepped out from behind a concrete pillar.

“Elena!”

She stopped dead in her tracks.

The voice was old, broken, and hauntingly familiar.

She turned her head. Standing ten feet away, leaning heavily on a wooden cane with sunken cheeks and gray hair matted to his forehead, was Arthur Moretti.

Her father.

The man who had allegedly died of a massive heart attack two years ago in a charity hospital—the man whose supposed debts had plunged her into two years of indentured servitude at the diner.

“Dad?” Elena gasped, dropping her briefcase as her knees nearly buckled.

Marcus stepped forward instantly, his hand dropping toward his concealed holster. “Miss Moretti, stay back. It could be a trap.”

“No—wait!” Elena cried, pushing past Marcus and running toward the old man. “Dad! You’re... you’re alive? They told me you died! They showed me the death certificate!”

Arthur’s eyes were bloodshot and filled with terror. He grabbed her wrists with trembling, bony fingers.

“They didn't kill me, Elena,” Arthur whispered frantically, glancing around the crowded plaza as if assassins were hiding behind every marble statue. “Vescari didn't kill me... he put me in a private medical lockup in Indiana. He told me that if I ever tried to contact you, or if I ever spoke a word about the shipping diversion, he would kill you first.”

Elena stared at him, the horrifying puzzle pieces snapping together in her mind with brutal clarity.

“Vescari faked your death,” she breathed, tears springing to her eyes. “He used you as leverage to keep me silent.”

“Listen to me, Ellie,” Arthur urged, his voice breaking into a sob. “Victor Vescari is still out there. He escaped the raid last August. He’s regrouping with the New York syndicate. And he knows you’re the one who dismantled his entire operation. He’s coming for you. He’s—!”

CRACK!

A high-powered sniper rifle shot echoed off the marble facade of City Hall.

The bullet shattered the concrete pillar two inches from Arthur’s head, sending stone shrapnel flying.

“Sniper! Get down!” Marcus roared, drawing his weapon and tackling Elena and her father to the ground, shielding them with his own body as panic erupted among the civilians on the steps.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Armed tactical guards swarmed out of the black town cars parked at the curb, forming a protective wall around Elena and her father as they shoved them into the armored vehicle.

As the bulletproof door slammed shut and the car peeled away into traffic, Elena stared out the tinted window with a cold, terrifying clarity.

Victor Vescari thought he could hunt her.

He didn't realize that she was no longer running.