I never meant to see his face. I was just closing up the diner, wiping down tables, when I looked out the window and saw them—three men in suits dragging another into a black van. Then the gunshot. One second, silence. The next, warm blood sprayed the glass.

They found me by morning. Not the police. Him. The man from the shadows, voice like smoke, eyes like cracked obsidian. He didn’t threaten me. He offered.

‘Be my fiancée,’ he said, adjusting his cufflinks as if discussing weather. ‘Wear the ring. Smile for the cameras. Or I’ll make sure your mother forgets your name after I bury her children.’

Now I stand in his mansion, silk robe too soft, bed too large. The door isn’t locked. But the windows? They’re wired to scream if opened. And downstairs, Luka waits—his guard, his ghost.

My phone buzzes. Unknown number.

‘Still breathing?’ it reads.

I know that voice. It’s Jamie—my best friend. Still looking for me.

Do I reply? Do I risk it?