ELENA
Dante left at midnight with Marco and three of Russo's men.
I watched from the window as they drove away in a black SUV, my stomach twisted in knots.
"He'll be fine," Sophia said from behind me. "Dante always survives."
"Until he doesn't." I turned away from the window. "What if this is the one time luck runs out?"
"Then we deal with it. But worrying won't change anything." She handed me a cup of tea. "Drink. Try to sleep. He'll be back before you know it."
But I couldn't sleep. I sat in the living room, watching the clock, waiting for any word.
At two AM, my phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
If you want to see your husband alive again, come alone to Pier 17. You have one hour. Tell anyone, he dies. —R
My blood turned to ice. R. Russo.
This was a setup. Had to
