Chapter 1

A loud boom vibrates through my family home like a thunderclap, jolting me out of bed into a frenzy of panic. With my heart racing, I rush toward the door of my bedroom, my trembling hands struggling to find and turn the handle. What in the depths of hell was that? An explosion? Our front door caving in?

Voices bark orders in Italian. La ragazza , they say, sending an icy shiver slithering down my spine. My Italian’s rusty, but I think they’re saying the girl . Whoever they are, they’re after me. The realization tightens my chest with a suffocating grip. Because I know there are only three of us in this house tonight: my papa, brother, and me.

An imposing dark figure strides into our living room, scanning his surroundings, a predatory gleam in his eyes. A weapon is held casually at his side as he moves his way around the three-seater sofa I sat on with my older brother Marco only a couple of hours ago while we watched The Nightmare Before Christmas. It’s been a family tradition on Christmas Eve for as long as I can remember .

I attempt to move, but panic overwhelms me, making it seem like my feet are stuck to the soft carpet below, rendering me helpless as he fixes his intense gaze on me. I should run, should slam my door, flick the lock, and throw myself out the window to the ground below, but I can’t. My papa and brother are both asleep inside this house tonight as well, if they’re not already awake. I can’t leave them.

The trespasser’s massive frame fills the doorway like an ominous apparition, moving with a deceptive grace. His face is hidden behind creepy skeleton mask paint that sends a shiver down my spine. It’s like something you would see on Halloween or during the Day of the Dead ceremonies. His dark shirt barely contains his ink-covered arms that flex with power as he silences me, his finger pressed against his lips. The face of a monster staring back at me from his forearm.

I want to scream the house down, but fear from the intensity of the way he narrows his eyes in on me strangles my vocal cords.

A second voice, distant yet unmistakable, sends a jolt of recognition rocketing through my soul. A voice I thought I knew, one I never expected to hear in such chaos. Or ever again, and I know my mind must be playing tricks on me. It comes from the kitchen, on the other side of the living room closer to my Papa’s room. è qui dentro , it calls cooly. He’s in here .

“No,” I cry desperately.

My papa.

I have to help.

Without warning, I’m yanked back into my room, dragged from behind through the darkness with an iron grip that crushes my futile attempts to break free of his hold. I thrash and kick, colliding with a lamp, sending it flying across the room. I’m met with a relentless force that only tightens around my body like a vice. My chest constricts, my heavy lungs battling to suck in ragged breaths. But it’s no use, he’s way too powerful for me. Dragging me into the pitch black of my walk-in closet with him.

“Hush,” he says softly. With a swift kick, he slams the door shut and immediately covers my mouth with his long fingers, causing me to bite my lip. The taste of blood floods my senses, forcing tears to leak down my cheeks. What the hell is going on? Desperation claws at me, telling me to fight, to be strong, but I’m trapped.

Muffled noises come from the chaos outside my room. Shouting, followed by the violent sound of gunfire. “Papa, Marco!” I scream, my body shaking uncontrollably.

The man drops his lips to my ear. “Everything is going to be okay, baby doll. I’ve got hold of you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice is soft and calm, but his barbaric hold on me tells me otherwise as his biceps crush my chest.

My papa’s pleas for help blend with the spray of bullets and shattering glass, and I know it’s all lies. I’m not going to be okay.

I cry out in desperation, my voice muffled by my captor’s heavy hand. There is no way anyone can hear me over the destruction going on all around us, but it’s all I can do to stop from passing out in panic.

“Shhh, baby doll. Please,” he repeats like a mantra, trying to calm me. With each stroke, the hand around my waist glides down my arm tenderly, sending shivers in its wake. His touch is too soft, too kind to make any sense.

But I can’t stop the hysterical tears from streaming down my face. I fight against his grip, wanting to run to my family. To do anything I can to help them. “Please, let me go,” I beg, the sound coming out muted.

He holds me closer, turning my body so I’m facing him, like he’s hugging me, blocking out the rest of the world with his broad chest. I shove against him repeatedly, but it’s no use. He’s so strong, so much larger than my small frame. “You’re safe with me, baby doll. Stop fighting against me,” he coos, trying relentlessly to calm me. “I’m going to get you out of here, but we have to wait until it’s safe.”

His words offer no ease, only false promises of safety when he’s the one causing my suffering. I struggle against his hold, every fiber of my being screaming for release, for escape. I need to help my brother, my papa. “Marco,” I cry, sobbing into his chest when he won’t release me.

After what feels like the longest time, the banging and crashing finally stops, and he moves us so he can crack open the door. Light from the moon illuminates his face, and as he looks back at me, I’m met with piercing blue eyes that send a shiver down my spine. I’ve never seen such a crystal-clear blue before. His face is hauntingly beautiful, under the mask paint; a chiseled jaw freshly shaven and plush lips with a hint of a smile when our gazes lock. There is a bolt of electricity crackling in the air between us. I can’t take my eyes off him.

He runs a hand down my face, carefully wiping away my tears as I stare back at him, too frightened to stop him. My heart races uncontrollably. I’ve never encountered such an attractive man. I have no idea what possesses me to do it, but I push up on to my tippy toes and press my lips to his. My kiss knocks him off guard, and he loosens his tight grip on me.

Run, fucking run, Harley! I slip out of his arms and am out my bedroom window, climbing down the drainpipe to the ground floor below, before he knows what’s happening. He calls after me, but I have the element of surprise, and even though I know he’s chasing after me, I keep moving as fast as my bare feet will take me down the sandstone driveway of my family home and out onto the street. Behind me a fiery glow lights up the house. Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my vision. And I run right into a brick wall of a man .

“Hey, Red, where you running to so late at night?” the gentleman asks, dusting himself off.

“My family.” I sob, trying to catch my breath. “They…” I look back over my shoulder, the house is now alight. Flames lick at the windows, and I know it won’t be long before the entire place goes up. “No,” I scream into the night, crumbling to my knees on the grass below.

A hand comes to my shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here with the police,” comes his deep voice.

As tears stream down my face, I glance up at him. He doesn’t look like a cop, in his leather jacket and black button-up.

“Undercover detective. We got the call to say there was a disturbance, our other crew is over there now.” He flashes me a badge as he glances up the road, then back to me. “Come and sit in my car. You must be freezing.” As he examines my outfit, a chill runs down my spine.

I hadn’t realized how bitterly cold I was, but I’m only in a pair of shorts and a tank top, my feet bare on the icy sidewalk. “Thank you.” I sniff, taking him up on the offer to get out of the winter chill. He helps me slide into the back seat of his sedan.

Then he joins me, closing the door to keep out the cold. He takes off his jacket and slips it over my shoulders as my teeth start to chatter. “I’m Detective Ian Macquarie, what’s your name?” he asks me in a kind voice.

“Harley,” I push my name through my lips.

“Okay, Harley, can you tell me what you were running from in the middle of the night?”

I look him over, wondering if I can trust him. He said he’s a cop, and right now, I’m out of options. He has to be able to help me. “These men broke into my home. They killed my papa and brother and kept me away from them. I wanted to help them, to save them. But I couldn’t move.” My bottom lip trembles terribly as a fresh wave of tears streams down my cheeks. My family is gone. All I can see in my mind’s eye are the piercing blue eyes of the man who held me captive in my own room, staring down at me.