The Blood Oath Series Book 1 : Between Two Kings

The smell of old canvas and linseed oil had always made Sofia Moretti feel safe. Inside the quiet restoration studio in Florence, the outside world didn't exist. There were no deadlines beyond the ones she created for herself, no family drama, no danger—just centuries-old masterpieces waiting to breathe again. She adjusted the magnifying lamp over an eighteenth-century painting that had arrived from a private collector the week before. "Let's see what secrets you're hiding," she murmured. Using a delicate cotton swab, Sofia carefully removed years of yellowed varnish from the corner of the canvas. Something felt... wrong. She frowned. The brushstrokes beneath the varnish didn't match the rest of the painting. It was as if another image had been painted over. Curious, she reached for the infrared scanner the studio occasionally used to examine damaged artwork. The hidden outline slowly appeared on the monitor. Not another painting. Words. A handwritten message concealed beneath layers of paint. Her heartbeat quickened. Who would hide writing inside a masterpiece? She zoomed in. The faded Italian script was difficult to read, but one line stood out clearly. When the last Moretti finds this... trust no king. Sofia blinked. Moretti. Her surname. A strange coincidence. Or maybe not. A knock at the studio door interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Moretti?" She looked up to find a well-dressed man in an expensive charcoal suit standing at the entrance. He looked to be in his forties, polite but unreadable. "I'm sorry," Sofia said, removing her gloves. "We're closed." "I know." His smile never reached his eyes. "I've come to collect the painting." "It isn't ready." "It is now." Something about his tone sent a chill down her spine. "I'm afraid I can't release it without authorization from the owner." He took one slow step into the studio. "The owner is dead." Silence filled the room. Before Sofia could respond, another black SUV stopped outside. Then another. Car doors slammed. Several men stepped out, all dressed in black. The suited stranger glanced through the window and sighed. "They found you sooner than I expected." "What are you talking about?" He looked directly into her eyes. "They're not here for the painting." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "They're here for you." The front door exploded inward. Men with guns flooded the studio. One shouted, "Find Sofia Moretti!" Sofia froze. How did they know her name? And why did it suddenly feel like her ordinary life had just ended?