Ivy made it exactly twenty-three blocks before Dante Russo found her.

Rain drowned Manhattan in silver by midnight.

Traffic lights blurred through wet streets while Ivy walked fast beneath borrowed umbrellas and terrible decisions, one overnight bag hanging from her shoulder and Lucien’s voice still echoing violently inside her head.

Please don’t walk away from me.

The memory hurt enough to make her angrier again.

Good.

She needed anger right now.

Not grief.

Definitely not the unbearable urge to turn around and go back.

Her phone buzzed for the eighteenth time in twenty minutes.

Lucien.

Again.

Ivy stared at the screen while standing beneath a flickering crosswalk sign.

Then silenced the call without answering.

Immediately afterward—

guilt twisted sharply beneath her ribs.

Fantastic.

Absolutely fantastic.

Rain soaked the edges of her coat while taxi headlights streaked gold across flooded streets nearby. The city felt loud tonight.

Too loud.

Too alive.

Ivy tightened her grip on the overnight bag and kept walking.

Rosie’s apartment sat twelve blocks away.

That was the plan.

Get distance.

Sleep.

Think later.

Cry dramatically in private.

Healthy emotional choices.

Her phone buzzed again.

This time Matteo.

IVY PICK UP THE PHONE

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Another message appeared instantly after.

NOW

Cold unease slid slowly down Ivy’s spine.

Before she could answer—

a black SUV rolled quietly to the curb beside her.

Ivy stopped walking immediately.

The rear passenger window lowered slowly.

And Dante Russo smiled from inside the car.

Oh no.

Absolute oh no.

Rain hammered harder around them.

Dante rested one hand lightly against the silver cane across his lap while city lights reflected coldly against the SUV windows behind him.

“You really should answer Lucien’s calls,” he said smoothly.

Ivy stepped backward instantly.

Every survival instinct she possessed finally arrived at once.

“Hard pass.”

Dante’s smile deepened slightly.

“You know, I liked you immediately.” His gaze moved calmly across her face. “That almost never happens.”

Ivy turned sharply toward the sidewalk.

Two men stood near the alley entrance now.

Another near the subway stairs.

Black coats.

Watching her.

The city suddenly felt much smaller.

Interesting.

Very terrifying.

Dante noticed her realization immediately.

“You’re intelligent,” he murmured. “That’s unfortunate timing.”

Ivy’s pulse slammed violently against her ribs.

She backed away another step.

“What do you want.”

Dante looked genuinely surprised by the question.

“Leverage.”

The answer came soft.

Simple.

Honest.

Rain streamed steadily down the side of the SUV while distant sirens echoed somewhere far uptown.

Ivy’s breathing tightened.

“You touch me,” she said sharply, “Lucien burns this city down.”

Dante laughed softly.

Low.

Amused.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “That’s exactly why this is happening.”

The words hit like ice water.

No games now.

No pretending.

Only truth.

Dante slowly opened the SUV door.

“Ivy.”

She ran.

Instantly.

The overnight bag slipped violently against her shoulder while heels slammed hard against rain-slick pavement. Traffic horns exploded nearby as she darted across the street between moving cars.

Behind her—

doors opened.

Footsteps.

Men shouting.

Oh God.

Ivy nearly slipped turning the corner onto the next block but caught herself against a newspaper stand and kept moving.

Rain blinded everything silver.

Her lungs already burned.

Too fast.

Too fast—

A hand grabbed her coat from behind.

Ivy screamed instantly and elbowed backward hard enough to hear somebody curse.

The grip loosened.

She ripped free and sprinted again.

“Stop her!”

The shout echoed through the rain behind her.

People turned.

Cars slowed.

Nobody intervened.

Because this was Manhattan and rich people chaos probably looked normal from a distance.

Ivy reached for her phone blindly while running.

Lucien.

Call failed.

No signal.

“No, no, no—”

Another black SUV screeched sideways into the intersection ahead of her.

Blocking the street.

Ivy stopped violently.

Wrong direction.

Wrong move.

Two men stepped out immediately.

One grabbed her arm.

Ivy fought instantly.

Kicking.

Scratching.

Pure panic.

“Get OFF me—”

The second man caught both wrists hard enough to bruise.

Ivy screamed again and twisted violently beneath their grip.

A crowd had started forming near the sidewalks now.

Watching.

Nobody helping.

Rain poured harder.

One of the men cursed under his breath.

“Hold her still.”

Ivy bit the first one immediately.

Hard.

The man shouted violently and shoved her backward against the SUV door hard enough to rattle her skull.

Pain exploded across her vision.

“Careful,” Dante’s voice warned calmly from nearby. “Lucien will notice damaged merchandise.”

Rage shot straight through Ivy.

“YOU PSYCHOPATH—”

The rear SUV door opened.

Dante stepped out slowly beneath a black umbrella held over him by another guard.

Calm.

Elegant.

Like this was dinner instead of kidnapping.

The sight terrified her more than violence would have.

Ivy jerked harder against the men holding her.

“Lucien will kill you.”

Dante looked almost pleased.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Eventually.”

Then his expression cooled slightly.

“But first, he’ll panic.”

The words landed brutally.

And suddenly Ivy understood.

This wasn’t revenge.

Not entirely.

Dante wanted Lucien afraid.

Wanted him unraveling.

The realization turned her blood cold.

One of the guards forced her toward the open SUV.

Ivy fought harder instantly.

“No— NO—”

The rain drowned half her scream.

A hand clamped roughly over her mouth.

Panic exploded completely.

Ivy kicked wildly against the pavement while city lights blurred through tears and rainwater.

The SUV interior loomed dark beside her.

No.

No no no—

For one horrible second—

Lucien’s face flashed through her head.

The way he begged her not to leave.

The way his voice broke.

And suddenly the worst realization hit:

He was right.

He was right and she hated it.

The guard shoved her halfway into the SUV.

Ivy twisted violently enough to slam her shoulder against the door frame.

Pain shot down her arm.

And then—

completely involuntarily—

she screamed his name.

“LUCIEN!”

The sound tore itself raw from her throat.

Not strategic.

Not planned.

Instinct.

Pure instinct.

Dante froze briefly beside the SUV.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Then slowly—

very slowly—

he smiled.

“There he is,” Dante murmured softly.

The SUV door slammed shut.

Darkness swallowed everything instantly.

Rain disappeared behind tinted glass while locks clicked sharply around her.

Ivy shoved hard against the door.

Nothing.

One of the guards grabbed both her wrists before she could reach the opposite handle.

Panic hit full force now.

Real panic.

Too trapped.

Too tight.

Her breathing broke apart instantly.

Outside the SUV window, Manhattan blurred silver and gold while Dante stepped calmly back beneath his umbrella.

The city moved around him.

Untouched.

Like the devil himself standing in rain.

Then Dante looked directly through the tinted glass toward her.

And softly mouthed one sentence:

Now he’ll come for you.