Chapter 1 - The Photograph Under the Folder
The day I slipped in front of eight armed men, I thought the most embarrassing thing that would happen was falling into the arms of the man everyone in Chicago was afraid to disappoint. I was wrong. Because when I looked at the photograph beneath Adrien Moretti’s folder, I recognized a man I had already seen inside his mansion—and I knew he had lied about why he was there.
The mahogany conference room had gone unusually quiet that afternoon.
I was carrying a blue cleaning bucket across the polished marble floor when my bare foot hit the water I had spilled moments earlier.
The bucket tipped.
I slipped.
Before my shoulder struck the floor, an arm wrapped around my waist.
Adrien Moretti caught me.
For one frozen second, I was pressed against the chest of Chicago’s most intimidating man while eight members of his inner circle stared at us.
“I’m not opening my eyes,” I whispered.
“You can stand up now,” Adrien said.
I opened one eye.
Then I saw it.
A photograph had slipped halfway from beneath a folder on the conference table.
The face belonged to a man in a gray coat.
My stomach tightened.
“Wait...” I whispered.
Adrien followed my gaze.
“That man in the picture.”
His expression changed instantly.
“Where did you see him?”
“In the service corridor yesterday.”
Across the room, one of Adrien’s lieutenants shifted.
Only once.
But it was enough.
His face lost color.
Adrien noticed.
He picked up the photograph and turned it face down.
“Everyone out. Now.”
The men left without asking why.
The heavy door closed.
Adrien looked at me.
May you like
“Tell me exactly what you saw.”
And suddenly, I wished I had never looked at that photograph.
