Lucian Moretti held a gun to Elias Hills's head. Two of his men had Raina pinned to the floor, one knee between her shoulder blades, a pistol pressed against the back of her neck. Her cheek was crushed against the hardwood. Dust caught in her mouth. She tasted blood where she'd bitten her tongue. "Let her up," Elias said. Lucian didn't look at him. "Give me the ledger." "I don't have it." The man on Raina's back shoved her down harder. Pain flashed through her shoulder. "Stop!" she shouted. "He said he doesn't have it!" "Raina, be quiet," Elias snapped. That hurt worse than the guard's weight. Her father never spoke to her that way. She twisted, trying to see him, but a hand clamped around her hair and forced her face to the floor again. "Don't touch her," Elias said. "Then tell me where it is." Lucian's voice was calm, almost bored. "You're making this unnecessarily difficult." Rain battered the windows. The front door hung open behind the men, letting cold air sweep through the house. Raina could see her father's slippers near the kitchen threshold, one turned on its side. A bowl of oranges had spilled across the tiles. One rolled to a stop beside Lucian's polished shoe. Elias stood with his hands raised. A split at his lip darkened with blood. He kept looking at Raina, as if checking she was still there. "Is this what you call collecting a debt?" she said. "Pointing a gun at an old man?" Lucian shifted the pistol against Elias's temple. "Your father borrowed from my family. He missed the deadline." "He didn't borrow anything from you." "Raina," Elias warned. "No. You're going to let him shoot you because he says you owe him money?" Lucian's eyes flicked toward her. "You should ask your father why he's so afraid of one book." "I'm not afraid of you," Elias said. "Then tell me where the ledger is." "I told you. I don't have it." Lucian nodded once. The man holding Raina pressed his gun more firmly against her neck. Elias's hands lowered by an inch. "Don't." "Then answer me." "I can't give you what I don't have." Raina's heart hammered. The guard's arm pinned one of hers beneath her chest; her other hand was stretched toward the overturned table. If she could reach the heavy brass candlestick lying beside it- She lunged. The guard caught her wrist and twisted it behind her back. Raina cried out. The pistol at her neck followed the movement, cold against her skin. "Stay down," he growled. Lucian glanced over. "She's persistent." "She's my daughter," Elias said. "Let her go." "Then give me the ledger." "You keep asking for something that isn't here." Lucian's jaw tightened. "I know you have it." "Who told you?" "That doesn't matter." "It matters to me." "Not anymore." Raina stopped struggling. She could feel the guard's breath against her hair. A second man stood over Elias, weapon raised, blocking the hallway. Lucian was close enough that rainwater still glistened on the shoulders of his coat. She looked at her father. "Dad, what ledger?" Elias's expression changed-a flicker of fear, quickly hidden. Lucian noticed. "There," he said. "She doesn't know." "She doesn't need to," Elias replied. "Maybe she does. Maybe then she'll understand why you're about to die." "Lucian," Raina said, forcing his attention back to her. "If you shoot him, you don't get the book. You don't get anything." The guard's grip eased a fraction. Lucian's gaze sharpened. "You know where it is?" "No." "Then you have nothing to bargain with." "I have a house full of neighbors who heard you come in. I have your face. Your name. If you kill him, every person in this city will know what you did." Lucian gave a small, humorless smile. "You think the truth is what keeps people safe?" Elias took one step forward. Lucian's gun followed him. "She's right. Let her go. This is between us." "It stopped being between us when you hid what belongs to my family." "It never belonged to your family." For the first time, Lucian looked angry. The shift was subtle, but Raina saw it: the smile vanished; his hand tightened around the pistol. "Where is it?" he demanded. Elias said nothing. Lucian pressed the barrel harder into his skin. "Answer me." "Please," Raina whispered-not to Lucian, but to her father. "Just tell him what he wants." Elias looked at her. His eyes were wet, though he wasn't crying. "I'm sorry." "No. Don't do that." She jerked against the guard. "Don't say goodbye. Tell him!" Lucian lifted his free hand. The second man grabbed Elias by the shoulder and forced him to his knees. Raina screamed. "Stop! Please!" Elias didn't fight. He kept his gaze on her, steady and full of things he had never said. She kicked, bucked, clawed at the floor. The guard's knee dug into her back until she couldn't draw a full breath. "Last chance," Lucian said. Elias's mouth moved. Raina couldn't hear him. "What?" Lucian snapped. "I said no." A sharp crack split the room. Elias fell sideways. His shoulder struck the floor first, then his head. Raina's scream tore out of her before she could stop it. The guard released her for an instant. She scrambled toward her father, palms sliding on the floorboards. Lucian's men grabbed her again, but she threw herself forward, reaching until her fingers caught Elias's sleeve. "Dad! Dad, look at me!" His eyes were open. He tried to lift his head, failed, then reached for her. Raina caught his hand in both of hers and pressed it to her cheek. "You're going to be okay," she said, though his blood was warm on her fingers. "I'm here. I'm right here." Lucian stepped closer. "Search the house." One of the men ran toward the stairs. Another headed for the kitchen. Raina looked up at Lucian. The pistol hung at his side. "You killed him." "He made his choice." "He was my father!" "And he kept something that could cost many more lives than his." "You don't get to decide that." Lucian's gaze hardened. "I already did." His men pulled Raina backward. She fought them, crying out, twisting toward Elias as they dragged her across the floor. Her father's hand slipped from hers. Then he moved. Elias's fingers closed around her wrist. "Wait," she gasped. "Dad?" His grip was weak, trembling. Raina dropped to her knees beside him again, ignoring the guard's curse. Elias drew her close enough that only she could hear him. His breath brushed her ear. "The ledger is inside the saint."

“The ledger is inside the saint.” Elias’s whisper barely reached Raina. His hand slipped from her wrist. “Dad?” She grabbed his sleeve, but a guard seized her under the arms and hauled her backward. Her nails scraped the floor. She kicked, caught someone’s shin, and heard a curse. “Get her out of the way,” Lucian ordered. Raina twisted toward her father. “Don’t leave him! You can’t leave him like this!” Lucian glanced down at Elias, then at the blood spreading beneath him. His face gave nothing away. “Search the house,” he said. “Find the book.” The guards dragged Raina toward the hall. She drove her heel into one man’s instep. He grunted; his grip loosened. She wrenched free, lurched toward the open front door—and slammed into a third man coming in from the rain. He caught her around the waist. Raina swung an elbow into his jaw. He staggered. She seized the doorframe and tried to pull herself outside, but someone grabbed the back of her shirt. The fabric tightened across her shoulders. A second hand clamped over her mouth. She bit down. The man yelped and struck her across the cheek. Light burst behind her eyes. The floor rushed up, and a knee pinned her between the shoulder blades. “Enough,” Lucian said. The pressure stopped. For one hopeful instant, Raina thought he meant to release her. Instead, he crouched beside her. “Tell me where the ledger is.” “I don’t know,” she rasped. “Your father told you.” “I don’t know what he meant.” Lucian’s gaze moved over her face, measuring. “Then you’ll stay here until you remember.” He stood. The guards pulled Raina upright, holding her arms behind her. She tried to wrench away, but they tightened their grip. Lucian turned to the man who had struck her. “Keep her quiet. I want the house searched without interruption.” “You’re leaving?” Raina shouted. He paused at the doorway. “You shot my father, and now you’re walking away?” “I have what I came for: a reason to believe the ledger is here.” His voice remained level. “Your cooperation would have spared him.” He stepped into the rain. His men followed, leaving two behind. The front door swung shut. Raina stared at the wood as if she could force it open with her eyes. Then she drove her boot backward into the nearest guard’s knee. He swore and bent. She dropped, twisted beneath his arm, and bolted down the hall. Her shoulder struck the wall; she bounced off and kept running. The kitchen was ahead. The back door was beside the sink. She reached it and grabbed the handle. It didn’t turn. A hand caught her hair and yanked her back. Her scalp burned. She clawed at the fingers, gasping, and kicked behind her until her heel hit a thigh. “Hold her still,” someone growled. They dragged her away from the door. She caught the edge of the counter, pulled a knife from the drying rack, and slashed backward. The blade nicked a sleeve. A guard seized her wrist and wrenched it until the knife clattered onto the tiles. Raina struck him with her free hand. He shoved her against the wall. Her shoulder hit first, sending a bolt of pain down her arm. “Look at you,” he said. “All that fight, and nowhere to go.” The other man laughed. “Lucian should’ve left her outside.” Raina spat at him. His expression hardened. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You think he wants you? You’re just a problem he hasn’t finished dealing with.” She jerked her face away. “Get your hands off me.” “Or what?” His thumb pressed painfully into her jaw. “You’ll scratch me?” The words, the sneer, the rough hands—each one narrowed the world around her. Raina’s breath came too fast. She kicked, twisted, screamed for help, but the house answered with silence. They forced her down and held her there. She kept fighting until her arms shook, until her voice broke, until the struggle became something she could no longer control. The assault was brutal and terrifying. Raina fixed her eyes on a crack in the floor and clung to the thought of Elias’s voice: inside the saint. She repeated the words silently, again and again, as if they were a door she could hold shut from the inside. When it was over, the men stepped away. Raina remained curled on the floor, one arm wrapped around herself. Her cheek throbbed. She couldn’t make her legs move. The room blurred, cleared, blurred again. “Get up,” one of them said. She pressed both palms to the boards. They slid. She tried again, and her arms gave out. The guard crouched, his face close to hers. “You should’ve stayed quiet.” Raina’s stomach tightened. She turned her head and retched onto the floor. “Disgusting,” he muttered. His partner nudged her shoe with his boot. “Let’s go. Boss wants the house cleared.” Raina flinched at the word boss. She wanted to scream at them, to throw the knife, to crawl to her father. Instead, she stared at the splintered edge of the door and forced air into her lungs. One breath. Then another. The men started toward the hall. Raina reached for the counter, dragging herself a few inches across the tiles. Her hand found the fallen knife. She closed her fingers around its handle. A gunshot cracked through the house. Both guards spun toward the front door. One drew his weapon. The other stepped between Raina and the hall. The door shuddered in its frame. Somewhere beyond it, a man shouted. Raina tightened her grip on the knife. The guards turned fully toward the sound.

The gunshot cracked through the house. Both men turned toward the front door. One drew his weapon; the other stepped between Raina and the hall. She tightened her grip on the knife. A second shot punched through the door. The guard closest to her ducked. Raina drove the knife into his calf-not deep, but enough to make him howl and stumble away. She scrambled toward the kitchen passage, palms slipping on the tile. "Stop her!" She reached the hall. A figure stood at the open front door, backlit by rain and the porch lamp. She couldn't see his face. The other guard aimed at him. "Drop it!" the stranger shouted. The guard fired. Raina flinched. The stranger fired back. The guard's gun clattered across the floor. The injured man lurched toward Raina, grabbing the back of her shirt. She swung the knife blindly. He let go with a curse, and she fell against the wall. "Raina?" Her father's voice. Or the memory of it. She couldn't tell. The stranger rushed in. He kicked the fallen gun away and ordered the wounded men to lie still. Raina pressed her back to the wall, knife raised, unable to make herself lower it. "Don't come closer," she said. He stopped. "I'm not going to hurt you." "You have a gun." "I'm putting it down." He set the weapon on the floor and stepped back. His words reached her, but the room seemed to tilt away. She looked past him, toward the kitchen, toward the room where Elias had fallen. "Dad," she whispered. The stranger followed her gaze. His expression changed. "I'm sorry," he said. Raina tried to move. Her knees folded beneath her. He caught her before her head struck the floor. She struck at his chest, weakly, then lost the strength to lift her hand. "Stay with me," he said. "Help is coming." She wanted to ask who he was. She wanted to ask if Lucian had left. She wanted to ask if her father was breathing. Instead, the dark rushed up and took her. When Raina woke, the ceiling above her was white. A fluorescent light flickered at the edge of her vision. The room smelled of antiseptic and damp clothes. Something tugged at the back of her hand. She tried to sit, but pain tightened across her ribs, and her shoulder burned. "Easy," a woman said. "You're in a clinic. Don't move too quickly." Raina turned her head. A nurse in pale blue scrubs stood beside the bed, checking a clear tube attached to her arm. "Where's my father?" The nurse paused. "I'm sorry." "No." Raina tried to push herself upright. A sharp cry escaped her. "Where is he?" "Please, you need to rest." "Tell me." The nurse's eyes softened. "He didn't make it." Raina stared at her. The words made no sense. They hung between them, plain and final. "He was talking to me," Raina said. "I know." "He grabbed my wrist." The nurse reached for her hand, but Raina pulled it beneath the blanket. "He said something," Raina whispered. "He told me where-" Her breath broke. She pressed her lips together and stared at the light. Tears slid toward her hairline. She didn't wipe them away. "Can you tell me where I am?" she asked after a moment. "A small private clinic outside the city. The man who brought you said it wasn't safe to take you to a public hospital." "Who brought me?" "He didn't leave his name." "Did he say what happened to the men?" The nurse's expression tightened. "The police came to the house. They took statements. There was a fire later that night." Raina looked at her. "What fire?" "The warehouse near the highway. The news says the men connected to your father's murder were inside. All of them died." Her heart lurched. "All of them?" "That's what the report says." "No." Raina gripped the blanket. Her knuckles whitened. "I saw two men in the house. Lucian was there. He shot my father. He's alive." The nurse glanced toward the closed door. "Keep your voice down." "Why?" "I don't know who can hear." Raina's pulse raced. "Did the police arrest anyone?" "They said there were no surviving suspects." "That's not true." The nurse didn't answer. She checked the hallway through the narrow window in the door, then came back to the bed. "Your injuries have been treated," she said quietly. "You're safe here for now. You don't have to talk about what happened until you're ready." Raina turned her face toward the wall. The word safe scraped against something raw inside her. She could still feel the floor beneath her cheek, the weight pinning her down, the laughter. Her fingers curled under the blanket until her nails pressed into her palm. "I need my clothes," she said. "They're being kept for the police." "My father's house-" "Is being searched." "The saint," Raina murmured. The nurse leaned closer. "What?" "Nothing." Her father's last words returned with painful clarity: The ledger is inside the saint. She didn't know which saint, or where it was, but the thought gave her something to hold on to besides grief. "Can I have water?" The nurse poured some into a plastic cup and held it while Raina drank. Her hands shook against the rim. She swallowed twice, then turned away. "I'm going to check your bandage," the nurse said. Raina flinched as she reached for the blanket. The nurse noticed and drew back at once. "Sorry," she said. "I'll tell you before I touch you." Raina's throat tightened. She nodded. The nurse changed the dressing gently and explained each movement before she made it. Raina kept her eyes fixed on the wall, counting the seconds until it was over. When the nurse finished, she tucked the blanket around her shoulders. "I'll be outside," she said. "Use the call button if you need anything." She reached the door, then stopped. Her hand hovered over the handle. "What is it?" Raina asked. The nurse looked back. Her face had gone pale. "Those men in the fire," she whispered. "The ones the police say are dead?" Raina pushed herself up despite the pain. "What about them?" The nurse leaned close, barely moving her lips. "The men who did this are still alive."