A Will Written In Blood

THE MAN BEHIND THE NAME

CHAPTER 2

THE MAN BEHIND THE NAME

Barcelona glittered beneath a darkening sky the following evening. Mara stood across from the Santoro estate and checked the time. She had changed her appearance three times since leaving her apartment. Her brunette hair was pinned differently, her dress belonged to someone richer than the woman she had been that morning, and the identity in her handbag had never existed outside a database. That was the point. Mara survived by becoming forgettable.

Tonight, however, she needed to become unforgettable for exactly three seconds. She crossed the street and passed through the gates. Music drifted from the estate, mixed with laughter and the soft clink of expensive glasses. Men in tailored suits stood at every entrance pretending not to watch anyone. Mara entered without hesitation, counting exits, cameras and guards without moving her eyes too quickly.

Then she saw him. Valerio Santoro stood near the far balcony. He was taller than she expected, broad-shouldered beneath a black suit, a dark hat resting low over his forehead. Silver rings gleamed on his fingers when he lifted his glass. He wasn't speaking. He was watching. Mara watched him for five seconds. Then his head turned, and their eyes met.

Her breath caught before she could stop it. His gaze traveled over her face with unsettling patience before settling on her eyes. Mara hated that she noticed the faint scar near his eyebrow. She hated more that he noticed her looking. He started walking toward her, and she remained exactly where she was. One step. Two. Three. He stopped in front of her.

“Do I know you?” “No.” “Interesting.” “Why?” His gaze dropped to her hand. Mara followed it. The ring. Her father's ring. Valerio went completely still. “Where did you get that?” Mara closed her fingers around it. “It's mine.” “That wasn't my question.” She smiled politely. “You ask too many questions for a man who doesn't know me.”

Something changed in his expression. Not anger. Recognition. “Who gave you that ring?” Mara's pulse quickened. “My father.” The words escaped before she could stop them. Valerio's eyes hardened. “Your father?” She realized her mistake and turned away. His hand caught her wrist, firm but not painful. “What's your name?” “Mara.” “Mara what?” “Does it matter?” His eyes held hers. “It does to me.”

She pulled her wrist free. “Then you'll have to wonder.” A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “You're either very brave or very stupid.” “People usually say both.” For the briefest moment, he almost laughed. Mara walked away before she could notice whether she liked the sound.

She reached the private corridor and moved through the darkness, her hand finding the weapon beneath her jacket. Valerio was supposed to be alone. The door opened. He was already inside. Waiting. “You knew.” “I suspected.” “How?” His gaze dropped toward her hand. “Because nobody looks at me the way you did unless they have a reason.”

Mara raised the weapon. “Put it down.” “No.” “You came here to kill me.” “Yes.” “And yet you're still talking.” “You're very observant.” “It's kept me alive.” A gunshot cracked somewhere outside. Glass exploded behind them. Valerio moved instantly, pulling her away from the window. Mara twisted free, but for one second they stood shoulder to shoulder, both looking toward the shattered glass.

“Someone else is shooting,” Mara said. Valerio's gaze sharpened. “Then we have a problem.” “Someone is shooting at you too.” “Exactly.” He looked at her again, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “I think we're going to have an interesting night.”

Mara told herself the sudden warmth in her face came from adrenaline. She didn't believe herself. She had spent years around dangerous men and never once cared whether they found her attractive. Valerio was different, and that difference annoyed her. He didn't look at her like prey or like a prize. He looked at her like a question he intended to solve.

Valerio watched her leave the corridor. He should have ordered his men to stop her. He should have demanded to know who sent her. Instead, he found himself staring at the doorway after she disappeared. The ring had confirmed one thing: she was connected to the Voss family. Her eyes had confirmed something else. She didn't know the whole story. And for reasons he refused to examine, he didn't want her dead yet.

From the balcony, Valerio watched Mara disappear into the crowd. Mateo approached him. “Who is she?” Valerio didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained on the corridor where she had vanished. “Find out.” Mateo frowned. “Already?” “Quietly.” Valerio touched the silver ring on his finger. The memory it carried was one he had spent years trying to bury. If Mara Voss had inherited her father's ring, then the woman who had entered his house tonight had not come there by accident.

Across the ballroom, Mara paused near a mirrored wall and caught her reflection. Her brunette hair framed her face, and her eyes looked calmer than she felt. She had expected a target. She had not expected a man who could make her forget, for a second, why she had entered the room. She hated that. She had built her entire life around control, and Valerio Santoro had already made her lose a fraction of it.