Prologue

ROSALIND

Infiltrate the mansion.

Abduct a four-year-old girl.

Kill anyone in my way. Even if it's Mom.

The average eighteen-year-old shouldn't be so proficient in weapons, but nothing about my life has been normal since Mom married a predator. My stepfather is one of the Galliano brothers, a crime family infamous for drug and human trafficking.

I didn't choose this world, but after years of being the victim, I'm ready to become the villain.

Sunlight beats down on my back like a disapproving parent as I creep around the garden's perimeter. A tall fence blocks my view of its interior, and the roses climbing on them release floral bursts that mingle with the scent of fear.

At the first sound of Miranda's soft giggle, my heart pounds hard enough to burst.

She's close.

Crouching low, I inch my way through a gap in the hedge I made earlier. I keep my footsteps light over the soft grass and hold my breath. No amount of training can stop the leaves from rustling against my bulletproof jacket.

The noise can't be helped. The mansion's security system has four blind spots, and only one of them gets me close to Miranda without alerting the guards.

I catch a glimpse of her crouched in front of a pond, her brown hair styled into a cascade of ringlets so stiff they remain still in the breeze. They've dressed her in a frilly pink gown with a tutu skirt that barely covers her underwear, paired with rhinestone sandals that shimmer in the sunlight like diamonds.

My nostrils flare, and my hands curl into fists.

This is how they clothe her in between my scheduled visits?

They thought they could banish me to boarding school and do whatever they pleased with Miranda. I'm not the weak, sniveling child they can banish. Thanks to their neglect, I made connections. Got trained. Now, I'm back for Miranda.

"Miri?" I whisper.

She turns her head to the left.

"Behind you," I say.

Straightening, she turns around. The moment our gazes lock, my heart melts, and my chest fills with warmth. Photos could never capture her sparkling eyes or dimpled cheeks. She's the most beautiful child in the world.

"Rosa?" she asks.

I give her an eager nod. "That's right."

Her deep blue eyes widen. "What are you doing here?"

"Come to me, and I'll tell you." I reach out a hand and beckon her into the blind spot.

Miranda glances to the right, where Mom sits on a bench at the edge of the pond, her face buried in a tablet. Hatred sears my veins, and my fingers itch to claw out her eyes. What kind of mental gymnastics must go through her mind each morning when she sees this little girl, or is she still so blinded by all the wealth?

I hold my breath, praying to anyone who will listen thatshe doesn't look our way.

Moments pass, and Miranda still hasn't moved. Anxiety coils through my insides like a constrictor and squeezes tight. If I step into the garden and pick her up, I won't just alert Mom. Every security guard working for my corrupt stepfather will be on us in seconds with guns drawn.

"Hey," I say, my voice rising with desperation. "I brought you a gift."

Miranda tilts her head, her rounded features sparking with interest. "What is it?"

I reach into my cargo pocket and pull out a box. "Here. Another unicorn."

She moves closer, her steps tentative. I keep my features light and even to mask my inner turmoil. Frustration roils through my gut and my breath turns shallow.

What lies have Matteo and Mom spewed to make a four-year-old girl so wary?

She reaches for the box, just as Mom's sharp voice says, "Miriam, come away."

My jaw clenches.

Her name is Miranda.

Mom shoots up from the bench, dropping the tablet. My heart plummets into my stomach, bringing up a wave of panic.

Time has run out, and so have my chances for a peaceful abduction. I burst out of the bushes and scoop Miranda into my arms.

Eyes widening, Mom reaches into her pocket and produces a pistol.

Shit.

"Drop my daughter!" She points the gun at my head.

"Your daughter?"

Forcing Miranda's face into my chest, I draw my weapon and shoot her between the eyes, releasing over four years of resentment.

Despite my use of a silencer, Miranda screams, breaking my moment of relief. Mom falls to the ground just as sirens blare from the mansion, filling the air with the chaos. Alarm explodes through my insides, and I disappear into the bushes, clinging onto the wailing child.

"Hold tight, Miri."

"Put me down!" she cries. "You're hurting me!"

My heart shatters into jagged pieces. When she's old enough to understand, I'll explain that this is for her own good. With me as her parent, she can have a normal life.

For now, I'll withstand her hatred.

I run alongside the hedges, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The sirens grow louder, as do Miranda's cries. There's no way we're getting out of here unnoticed, but I've spent four years planning for every possible scenario.

An armored car pulls up, its engines still running. I fling open the back door and jump into the seat, still clinging onto Miranda.

"What took you so long?" Britt's blonde head whips to the side.

"Drive." I pull the door shut.

The central locking system whirs into place, and the car hurtles down the tree-lined drive that runs between Matteo's mansion and the neighbors.

Miranda's tiny fists pound on my shoulders as she screams for help, and I hold her close. "It's okay, Miri," I murmur. "Everything's going to be alright. I'm here to protect you."

Britt slams on the brakes, making Miranda and me lurch forward.

"Fuck!" she screams.

My head snaps up to the windshield, where an SUV blocks the road ahead. When I turn to the back window, another car closes in on us from behind.

"We're trapped," she snarls.

"Miri, listen carefully." I stare into her huge, blue eyes, trying to convey the intensity of the situation. "Those men are going to shoot at us. Hide behind the seat, so you don't get hurt."

Her bottom lip trembles. For a brief second, I wonder if she'll try to break free again, but she nods.

I release my grip on Miranda, and she ducks down, staying close to the floor. My pulse has never beaten so hard or fast, but I've already prepared for a blockade. As I reach for a helmet, the SUV's back door opens, and a man steps out. It's Matteo.

Seeing him is a punch to the gut. Shock seizes my chest in a clawed grip, stealing my air. My blood chills, and goosebumps spread across my skin. I timed this attack to avoid my stepfather. He was supposed to be away on business.

Bitter memories flood my mind, threatening to drown me in a whirlpool of betrayal and pain. I struggle for breath, my pulse quickening, my feet rooting to the tarmac.

"What are you doing?" Britt yells from the front seat. "Get rid of them."

My best friend's voice jolts me back to reality. I snap on the helmet, reach for the grenade launcher beneath the front passenger seat, and throw open the door. "Watch Miri."

Stepping out, I sling the weapon on my shoulder. One of the men flanking Matteo fires a shot that hits me square on the chest. My armor absorbs the impact of the shot, pain exploding through my rib cage. I rock backward and manage to catch myself before I fall.

"Don't shoot," Matteo yells. "They've got my daughter."

My lip curls, and prickly heat flares across my chest. That's the first time my stepfather has admitted to being Miranda's father. He raises his palms in a gesture to surrender, but nothing this bastard could say or do will stop me from taking my baby.

Aiming at Matteo and his goons, I pull the trigger. A grenade flies out and explodes with a deafening roar, sending out an explosion of shrapnel and fire. A rain of bullets hit me in the back as I dive into the back seat.

Britt accelerates, and the car lurches through the wreckage. Triumph fills my chest as we speed away toward the airport. This unauthorized side quest will get us into trouble when we return to HQ, but this was the whole reason why I trained for four years to become an assassin.

My recruiter at the Moirai said I would become strong enough to take out any target… And he was right. Because of him, I'm able to take back my daughter.

I turn to where Miranda crouches and pull her onto my lap and check her for injuries. "Are you okay, baby girl?"

"What was that?" she asks through hiccupping sobs.

I bury my face in her ringlets and sigh. "You're finally coming home."