Prologue
Sophie Sarantos woke instantly, knowing that she wasn’t alone. Some sound had reached her—a rustle, a creak—something that had pushed through the fog of sleep and brought her to consciousness. She didn’t waste time screaming. Instead, she reached for her nightstand, desperate to grab the weapon she kept hidden there.
But her fingers never touched the nightstand drawer. Because he caught her hand. Trapped her hand in a hard grip. Powerful. Too strong. His fingers were encased in a leather glove and that one glove held her right hand trapped while his other hand—also covered in that leather—closed over her mouth.
“Don’t scream, Sophie, you know I’d never hurt you.”
No, no, she didn’t know that. She knew she was in a dark room with a strange man. A man who’d broken into her home in the middle of the night.
But she didn’t fight. She lay still as her mind flashed through a dozen different escape scenarios. She’d had plenty of self-defense classes.
I have to get away from him.
“I was worried about you,” he said. He was leaning over her. A big, hulking shadow in the darkness. “I heard what that bastard did to you.” His voice was a low, gruff rasp. Disguised? “I had to make sure you were safe.”
This wasn’t happening. She wanted it to be a bad dream, as she’d wanted so many other terrible moments from her past to just be nightmares, too. But they weren’t. Her reality was dark and ugly and twisted.
“I’m going to kill him,” he swore in that low, rasping voice.
Sophie shook her head. She couldn’t speak, not with that glove over her mouth.
“I’ll kill anyone who hurts you. Anyone who gets too close. You belong to me, Sophie. Always.”
The hell she did. And Sophie lunged up. Her head slammed into his. She wanted to break the bastard’s nose. Wanted him off her.
He staggered back. Sophie seized that opportunity for freedom. She lunged off her bed and ran for the door.
“Sophie!” Her name was a roar of fury.
She yanked open her bedroom door, but he caught her before she could go down the stairs. His painful grip hurt and she felt the press of a blade against her side.
“You shouldn’t run from me,” he muttered, his breath hot on her neck. “Never me. Not after all I’ve done for you.”
Screw that. She drove her elbow back against him, as hard as she could. He grunted and his hold loosened for one precious moment. She took that moment and flew toward her staircase.
But he grabbed for her again and she had to twist at the last moment. She stumbled and down, down she went, tumbling and bouncing over those stairs. It hurt, but she didn’t care, because when Sophie crashed at the bottom of the stairs, she managed to actually get to her feet and run for the door. Her whole body ached, but she was moving and then she was outside. The cold, crisp DC air hit her.
His footsteps thundered behind her. Sophie didn’t look back. “Help me!” she screamed as she ran forward.. She could see the lights from a car approaching on the street. Sophie ran toward those lights, waving her hands. “Help me!”
The car stopped with a loud screech of its brakes. A man jumped out of the vehicle. “Miss, miss…are you all right?”
Hell, no, she wasn’t all right. She grabbed his coat, clenching it in her fists. “Call the police. Now.” She finally glanced back toward her home, the brownstone that had been hers for the last few years. It was dark. Menacing. The front door had been shut. He shut it. He’d closed it after she ran outside. Because I know I left it open.
He’d shut the door, and he was…waiting for her inside.
***
“We’ve searched thoroughly,” Detective Faith Chestang said as she sighed and faced Sophie, “but we can’t find any sign of an intruder.”
Sophie stood on her porch. She hadn’t wanted to go back into the house, not until the cops were done. Not until they brought that guy out in cuffs. Only the police hadn’t brought out any perp. And now Faith, a woman Sophie respected, was standing there saying they’d found no sign of him, and…she’s looking at me as if I might be crazy.
Sophie’s chin jerked up. “He was here.”
Faith took a slow step toward her. “I know these last few weeks have been hard on you,” Faith murmured, her words only carrying to Sophie and not to the uniformed officers still in the area. “Daniel Duvato attacked you in your own home.”
Daniel Duvato. Just the man’s name infuriated her. Yes, he’d attacked her all right. Right in Sophie’s brownstone. He’d knocked her out, given her a lovely new scar when he shattered a lamp over her head, and he’d left her there.
In a home slowly filling with gas.
“You know how victims are,” Faith continued, and Sophie stiffened at her sympathetic tone. “Flashbacks are common. It’s—”
“I’m not suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress,” Sophie snapped back. “There was a man here, in my bedroom. I woke up, and he was standing over me. He had on leather gloves. He touched me. He…he had a knife.”
“Did you see his face?”
“It was dark. I just had an impression of size. He’s big.” She remembered the feel of his arms around her. “Strong.” Dangerous.
“If he wore gloves, you know we won’t find any prints.”
Sophie’s shoulders straightened. Yes, she knew that.
“And there’s no sign of any forced entry. With the exception of the front door, all of your windows and doors were locked when the cops arrived.”
“He was here,” Sophie said and e
ven to her own ears, she sounded a bit desperate.
Faith rocked back on her heels. Her badge—clipped to her belt—gleamed dully in the faint light on the porch. “I’ll keep a patrol in the area tonight.”
Forget that. Sophie would be finding a hotel room for the rest of the night. She turned away from Faith and stared out into the darkness. “He said that he planned to kill Daniel Duvato.”
Silence.
Sophie swallowed. “He said that he was worried about me. That he had to make sure I was safe.” Her hand dropped to her side. Her pajama top had torn—no, not torn. The knife had sliced it open. She’d been lucky that the blade hadn’t sliced into her skin. “But you don’t keep someone safe with a knife.” You bring a knife in the middle of the night when you want to hurt someone.
“I’ll make sure Daniel’s guards are aware of the threat against him,” Faith promised her. “And I’ll get my team to do another sweep.”
But Sophie already knew that sweep would turn up nothing. Her attacker had been too well prepared.
Gloves. A knife. Just what all had he planned for me?
She looked over her shoulder at the detective.
“When he spoke,” Faith said slowly, “did you recognize his voice?”
“He was mostly rasping. Whispering.” And she had wondered if he was trying to disguise his voice. Sophie shook her head. “No, I didn’t recognize it.”
“A woman in your position has probably made a lot of enemies over the years.”
My position?
“Maybe one of those enemies is closing in.” Faith took another step toward her. The porch creaked beneath her. “Getting yourself some protection might not be a bad idea. At least, not until I can figure out what’s going on.”
Protection. Sophie eased out a slow breath. “And let me guess…you have a recommendation for me, don’t you?”
Faith nodded. “I happen to know a few men who might be able to help you out in a situation like this one.”
She already knew exactly who those men were, even before Faith said—
“VJS Protection. If Chance, Lex, or Dev are on the case, you’ll stay safe.”
Her heart raced even faster in her chest. She was familiar with VJS Protection, and with one of those men in particular. Lex. “I’m not exactly high on their friend list.”
“If you’re a paying client, they’ll take the job. No matter what you’ve done in the past.”
Ah, but Faith had no idea just what Sophie had done. She didn’t know about all of the very twisted and deadly secrets that Sophie carried with her.