Ava didn’t sleep that night.

She sat at her kitchen table until sunrise with the envelope lying in front of her.

She read the sentence again.

YOUR FATHER OWES THE DELUCA FAMILY A LIFE.

Her father had always told her he was an ordinary man.

A mechanic.

A widower.

A man who worked too much and talked too little.

He had never mentioned organized crime.

Never mentioned the DeLuca name.

Never mentioned Gabriel Moretti.

Yet someone had just connected all three to him.

At six forty-two in the morning, Ava’s phone rang again.

Roman.

She almost didn’t answer.

Almost.

“Hello?”

“You found the envelope.”

It wasn’t a question.

Ava’s heart pounded.

“How do you know?”

“Because I put it there.”

She stood so quickly her chair fell backward.

“You did what?”

“I needed to know whether you were being watched.”

“You could have asked me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because if someone was watching you, asking would have put you in more danger.”

Ava’s anger faltered.

“Am I in danger?”

Roman was silent.

That silence frightened her more than an answer.

“Roman.”

“Yes.”

“From whom?”

“My family’s enemies.”

“Why would they care about me?”

“Because they think your father left something with you.”

Ava frowned.

“I don’t have anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

“Because they don’t.”

Ava closed her eyes.

“What did my father do?”

Roman’s voice became quieter.

“He saved my father’s life.”

She opened her eyes.

“What?”

“Eleven years ago.”

Roman paused.

“There was an ambush.”

Ava said nothing.

“My father should have died that night.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No.”

“Because of mine?”

“Because of yours.”

Ava felt something twist inside her.

“My father never told me.”

“He was protecting you.”

“From what?”

“From us.”

The answer left her speechless.

Roman continued.

“Your father took something from my family that night.”

“What?”

“A ledger.”

Ava stared at the wall.

“What kind of ledger?”

“Names. Payments. Judges. Police officers. Politicians. Every person my father’s enemies had bought over twenty years.”

Her throat tightened.

“Why would my father take it?”

“Because he discovered something.”

“What?”

Roman didn’t answer.

Ava whispered.

“What?”

“He discovered someone inside our family was selling information.”

She understood immediately.

“Your father’s enemy?”

“No.”

Roman’s voice dropped.

“Mine.”

Ava’s pulse accelerated.

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

“Because someone has been killing people connected to that ledger.”

The apartment suddenly felt too small.

“How many?”

“Four.”

Ava’s hand covered her mouth.

“Why me?”

“Because your father disappeared after the ledger vanished.”

“He’s alive?”

Roman didn’t answer.

Ava’s heart stopped.

“Roman.”

“I don’t know.”

The words were brutal in their simplicity.

“I thought he was dead.”

“So did I.”

Ava sank into the chair.

“Then why did you say he disappeared?”

“Because there was never a body.”

Silence.

Eleven years.

Eleven years believing she had lost her father.

And now there was a possibility—

however small—

that he had been alive all this time.

“Where is the ledger?”

Roman’s voice changed.

“That’s what everyone wants to know.”

“And you think I have it.”

“I think your father wanted me to believe you did.”

Ava frowned.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only person he trusted.”

She shook her head.

“He never told me anything.”

“Maybe he did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about your childhood.”

Ava closed her eyes.

Memories surfaced.

Her father’s workshop.

The old wooden desk.

The locked drawer she was never allowed to touch.

A phrase he had repeated whenever she asked about it.

Some things are safer when they’re never opened.

Her eyes snapped open.

“The desk.”

“What?”

“My father’s old desk.”

Roman became silent.

“What about it?”

“He gave it to me before he disappeared.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In storage.”

“Don’t go there.”

Ava stood.

“I need to.”

“No.”

“Roman—”

“Listen to me.”

His voice became hard.

“If the ledger is inside that desk, someone else may already know.”

Ava’s stomach dropped.

She looked toward the window.

A black sedan was parked across the street.

It had been there since yesterday.

“Roman.”

“What?”

“I think someone is outside.”

A long silence.

Then—

“Get away from the window.”

She stepped back.

“Why?”

“Because the car isn’t watching your apartment.”

“What is it watching?”

“You.”

Ava’s blood ran cold.

Roman continued.

“I’m coming.”

“How long?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Roman—”

“Lock every door.”

She did.

Then the lights went out.

The entire apartment plunged into darkness.

Ava froze.

Her phone vibrated.

A message.

Unknown number.

She opened it.

One photograph.

Her father.

Older.

Alive.

Standing beside an unfamiliar woman.

And beneath the photograph:

HE TOLD US YOU WOULD FIND THE DESK.

Ava’s hands began to shake.

Another message appeared.

BRING THE LEDGER TO THE OLD CHURCH BEFORE MIDNIGHT.

Then a final message.

COME ALONE.

The apartment door rattled.

Once.

Twice.

Ava backed away.

Then a man’s voice came through the other side.

“Miss Bennett.”

She couldn’t breathe.

“Your father sent us.”

Ava reached for the kitchen knife.

The door handle began to turn.

Then—

three sharp knocks came from the fire escape.

She turned.

Roman stood outside the window.

Rain soaked his coat.

His gun was already in his hand.

His eyes found hers through the glass.

He mouthed two words.

Don’t move.

The door behind her slammed open.

And Ava finally understood the terrible truth.

The man who had come looking for her father wasn’t the only person who knew her name.

Someone had been waiting eleven years for her to find that desk.

And tonight, before dawn, they intended to make sure she never had the chance to open it.