THE EVIDENCE BETWEEN US.

The man behind her

Mara did not turn around immediately.

She continued walking, keeping her pace steady as the footsteps behind her followed along the pavement. The street had grown quieter since she left home. Most shops were closed, and the recent rain had left shallow puddles along the kerb, reflecting the occasional passing headlights.

She glanced at a dark shop window.

The man was still there.

He wore a dark jacket and kept his hands in his pockets. Nothing about his appearance was particularly remarkable, which made him difficult to describe. He looked like an ordinary man taking an evening walk.

Except he had followed her through two turns.

Mara crossed the road without warning, then slowed beside a closed pharmacy. The man crossed after her and slowed too.

That settled it.

She slipped her hand into her coat pocket, feeling the familiar shape of her phone. She could call someone, but she wanted to understand the situation first. If the man intended to approach her, she needed to know whether he was alone.

At the next junction, she turned into a narrow street between an old office building and a row of closed shops. The pavement was almost empty, and the nearest streetlight flickered overhead.

She did not look back again.

She did not need to.

Several metres away, Adrian Bellandi stood beside his black car, staring at the open bonnet with restrained irritation.

“This is the third time the car has developed a problem this month,” Adrian said, his voice cold with annoyance. “Does your mechanic repair vehicles, or does he simply enjoy making promises?”

Nico Moretti, standing beside the driver's door, ended a phone call before answering.

“He says the starter has failed. I've arranged for another car to be brought here.”

“How long?”

“Twenty minutes, perhaps thirty.”

Adrian checked his watch. It was already well past the time he had intended to leave. His father had summoned him to dinner at half past seven, and Vittorio Bellandi was not known for his patience.

“He will be delighted,” Adrian muttered.

“I'm sure he'll find a way to express his feelings,” Nico replied dryly.

Adrian gave him a warning look, but before he could respond, a woman walked past them.

He barely noticed her at first. Then he saw the man following her.

The woman crossed the road. The man crossed after her.

She slowed near the pharmacy, and he slowed too.

Adrian's attention sharpened. He had seen enough people followed through quiet streets to recognise when the movement was deliberate. The woman had also glanced at the shop windows more than once, watching the reflection behind her.

She knew someone was there.

“Stay here,” Adrian told Nico.

Nico frowned. “Where are you going, sir?”

“To find out whether that man has a legitimate reason for following her.”

“And if he does?”

“Then I'll have wasted a few minutes.”

Adrian began walking before Nico could offer another opinion.

He maintained a reasonable distance, watching the pair turn into the narrower street. He did not know the woman, and he had no particular interest in becoming involved in a stranger's problems. But the man's behaviour was too deliberate to ignore.

Ahead, the woman disappeared around a corner.

Adrian followed.

Mara heard the footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder.

The first man was walking faster now. But there was someone else behind him, a tall figure in a dark coat.

She recognised him.

He had been standing beside the black car when she passed.

Now he was following them too.

Two men.

Mara felt a familiar tension settle through her shoulders. She had no intention of leading either of them back to Tessa's apartment, and she certainly had no intention of waiting to discover what they wanted.

She turned into a narrow passage beside the office building. A recessed doorway offered some cover, while a high wall ran along the opposite side. She moved beyond the corner and stopped, keeping herself out of sight from the street.

The first man appeared moments later.

“Miss Vescari,” he called.

Mara's expression hardened.

He knew her name.

“Do I know you?” she asked, stepping into view.

“You need to come with me,” the man replied.

“That's an interesting way to introduce yourself. Who sent you?”

He ignored the question and approached her. “I'm trying to make this easy. Come quietly, and nobody needs to get hurt.”

Mara studied his face. He sounded rehearsed, but there was tension beneath his confidence. His gaze moved towards the entrance as if he expected someone else to arrive.

“I'm afraid you've misunderstood the situation,” she told him calmly. “I'm not going anywhere with you.”

His expression changed.

He reached for her arm.

Mara moved before his fingers could close around her wrist. She caught his hand, turned sharply and used his forward momentum against him, driving his shoulder into the wall. When he tried to wrench himself free, she shifted her footing and swept his leg out from under him.

He hit the ground hard.

Before he could recover, Mara dropped her weight, controlled his arm and forced him onto his front. He struggled, attempting to roll onto his side, but she adjusted her grip and pinned him firmly against the pavement.

“Stop moving,” she ordered.

The man tried again.

Mara tightened her hold, keeping his arm secured behind him. “I said stop.”

This time, he obeyed.

She checked his hands and the space around them without releasing him. Her movements were controlled and economical, the result of training rather than desperation. She had no interest in hurting him unnecessarily. She simply needed him to understand that he was no longer in control.

“Now,” she said, leaning closer, “you're going to tell me who sent you and why you know my name.”

The man clenched his jaw and remained silent.

Mara pressed him down when he attempted to shift his weight.

“Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she warned.

He finally stopped struggling.

Only then did Mara look towards the entrance.

The second man had reached the corner.

He stood several metres away, watching her with an expression she could not quite read. He did not look surprised by what he had witnessed. If anything, his attention seemed fixed on the way she had brought the first man down.

Mara met his gaze without loosening her hold on the man beneath her.

“You,” she called sharply. “Don't take another step.”

The stranger stopped.

Mara's eyes narrowed as she took in his composed expression and expensive coat. He had followed them here, and she had no reason to believe he was innocent.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” she ordered. “Then explain why you've been following us.”

He slowly raised both hands.

And for the first time that evening, Adrian Bellandi looked genuinely interested in the woman holding a struggling man against the pavement.