Aria’s fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of the bathroom sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at her was no longer the broken, tear-streaked girl who had signed the contract in Dante’s penthouse all those months ago. Her hazel eyes held a sharper edge now, her chestnut hair fell in damp waves from the shower, and faint bruises from training and lovemaking marked her petite frame like badges of survival. Yet the new message on her phone burned in her mind like acid.
*Project Pawn was never fully abandoned.*
She had slipped out of bed before dawn, leaving Dante’s warm, possessive embrace, and now stood here wrestling with the truth Sofia had hinted at, and the anonymous warning had confirmed. The ruthless mafia billionaire who had claimed her body an
