I left the stage as a prima ballerina and became Dante Romano's fiancée. Behind closed doors, I also kept the ruthless Mafia Don alive. Then his fragile first love came back. Her belongings entered my rooms, and Dante began giving her the protection he once reserved for me. Her things filled my sanctuary. When gunfire broke out in our hallway, Dante made one choice, and I lost my footing. Tonight, when the bullets fly again, will the man I gave everything for still stand in front of me?
The first bullet hit the hallway chandelier, and the world went to glass and smoke. I was a prima ballerina before I was Dante Romano's fiancée. Fifteen years on the stage had taught my body to move without asking permission: turn, land, recover, smile. So when the shots rang out in the private corridor of the penthouse, I did what fifteen years of training demanded. I stepped in front of Elena. That was the joke of it. I, who had built every exit route in that building, who had vetted every guard, who kept the Don alive with schedules and safe houses and a dozen quiet systems he never noticed — I moved to shield the woman who had been crying on his shoulder for six months. And Dante, the man I was going to marry, reached past me. He grabbed Elena and pulled her behind him, and his fre
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