CHIARA
The cold edge of the knife dug deeper against my throat.
I flinched, choking on the tremor that rattled through my chest, the sting of metal sharp enough to draw the faint trickle of blood that slid down, warm and terrible, into the hollow of my collarbone. My breath caught. My pulse thundered so violently that I thought it might burst against the blade itself.
“Don’t move!” the man behind me barked, his voice low, desperate. “Don’t take another step, Massimo, or I’ll...” The threat broke, his words jagged, his breath shaky against the back of my neck.
It was almost absurd, the way his fear betrayed him. Even as the steel pressed into my skin, even as my body was trapped against his, I could feel it...his terror. Not mine. His. The way his hand trembled faintly, the way his voic
