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"Funny. I don't remember accepting an invitation." My voice sounds braver than I feel.

The man holding me turns his face, and I recognize him. Dark jacket, close-cropped hair, the same face I glimpsed outside the library. I stare at him, trying to commit every detail to memory. If I get out of here, I'm never again letting anyone tell me I'm imagining things.

He pushes me into a metal chair and secures my bound wrists to the back of it. Fighting hasn't worked. I need to pay attention.

Valentina looks me over. "Thirty-seven, five cats, and that miserable little apartment. Did you honestly believe Lorenzo Moretti would marry a librarian like you?"

It stings. I've wondered often enough why Enzo would want somebody like me.

"Considering nobody mentioned he already had a wife, I wasn't planning a wedding."

"Men like Lorenzo don't marry women like you for love."

"Apparently, they marry women like you for the charming personality."

She slaps me so quickly I don't have time to turn away. Pain bursts across my cheek, and my eyes water. For a second I can't hear anything over the rushing in my ears.

"Watch your mouth."

I refuse to cry in front of her. "Is this revenge because I stabbed you? Maybe we should discuss why you were in my apartment."

"Don't flatter yourself." She reaches for a folder. "This is about something much more important. Money."

Apparently, being married to a mobster is lucrative, even if you don't particularly like him.

"Lorenzo and I have lived separate lives for years," she explains. "He had his work and his women. I had my home, my friends, my life. We understood each other. Then you came along."

"I didn't know about your arrangement."

"That's beside the point. He's started divorce proceedings. His attorneys have been calling mine about a settlement, as if twelve years of being Mrs. Moretti can be settled with an ordinary check."

Enzo really wants a divorce. My chest aches despite everything.

"Then negotiate with his lawyers. Why drag me into it?"

"I have negotiated. He thinks he can give me a fraction of his personal fortune and walk away. I want the Beverly Hills house, the Malibu property, enough cash to live as I choose, and guaranteed payments after the divorce. His own money, not Dario's business interests. I'm not foolish enough to demand what Lorenzo doesn't own."

Malibu. The place where I nearly told him I loved him. She'll take anything if she thinks it matters to him.

"So I'm your bargaining chip."

"You're the one thing he seems unwilling to lose." Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. "And after twelve years, I'm entitled to know what that is worth."

The driver stands near the loading door, and my captor has a gun at his waistband. They're being paid to hurt me.

"Why did you come to my apartment in the first place?"

Valentina shifts, wincing. "I expected to frighten you away. You're alone, with no security and nobody powerful looking after you. I thought you'd be easy."

"How did you get inside? There wasn't any damage to my lock."

She laughs. "I paid a maintenance contractor who had access to your building's master key. He let me in before you came home. It wasn't complicated."

I hadn't forgotten to lock my door. Somebody sold her access to my home.

"You waited there to threaten me."

"I intended to explain what sort of man Lorenzo is and make you disappear from his life." Her eyes narrow. "Instead, you stabbed me. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?"