My father doesn’t look up as I enter. Lachlan Kavanagh sits behind a mahogany desk, polished to a mirror sheen. A glass of whiskey sits untouched beside his left hand, his right flicking through the pages of a folder I can’t see. The fire crackling behind him is the only warmth in the room.
“Sit,” he says, eyes still on the file.
I take the chair across from him. It's hard-backed and uncomfortable, intentionally so.
He closes the folder with a snap. “The wedding is set for next week. Saturday.”
My stomach clenches. I school my face into blankness. “To Anthony Falco?”
His gaze lifts, steel and ice. “Of course. You’ll take the Falconame. The venue is secured, and the alliance is already being discussed among our circles. The press will release a statement on Friday.”
He says it like he’s reading the weather. Like it’s an inevitability I was foolish to think I could escape.
“Why him?” I ask.
“Because the Falcos are loyal,” he replies. “And desperate enough to need what little I can still offer. Their territory has softened, but their reputation still holds weight. Your marriage will tie our families together. Strengthens our numbers. It is a necessary move, Zara. If our clan will ever rule Chicago, we have to rid this city of Marchetti trash. The Falco family ensures we can root them out.”
“You think a wedding will take down the Marchettis?” I push.
He leans back, steepling his fingers. “The Marchettis are not invincible. Enzo’s men are efficient, but they bleed like everyone else. Their stronghold is built on fear and old money. The Falcos bring numbers, trade access, and something far more valuable—public favor. With the right press, the right moves, the Marchettis begin to look like the aggressors. And once the public begins to whisper, power shifts.”
My blood turns cold. Not from his words. From how sure he is. How little doubt lives behind those pale green eyes.
He believes this marriage is a strategy. That by handing me off like a favor, he’s securing our family’s survival. But what he doesn’t know—what he can’t know—is that the cracks in his empire are already there.
And I hold the chisel.
The flash drive is still hidden, deep in the seam of my traveling bag. Sewn into the lining, beneath the false bottom. It’s small. Harmless-looking. But it carries everything I stole the night I disappeared—accounts, routes, names. Enough to ruin him. Enough to destroy them all.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
I force my gaze to remain calm. “What if I refuse?”
His jaw tightens. “Then Anthony won’t have a wife. He’ll have a corpse. And I will find another way to ensure our future.”
He stands, and I realize our meeting is over.
“You will marry him, Zara. For your name. For your blood. For your family.”
I rise with a controlled nod, spine straight despite the earthquake beneath my skin. I walk back through the study doors without a word.
Back to my cage. I have one week.
The room fallsinto silence as I close the heavy oak doors of the meeting room behind me. Every chair around the table is filled by a man who’s killed, protected, or bled for the Marchetti name. And tonight, they’re all looking to me for direction.
Lars sits at my right, arms crossed. To my left, Tomaso, one of our most seasoned logistics men, leans forward with his hands folded tight. Across from him, Niko, our head of street operations, eyes the folder in front of him like it’s about to catch fire.
“I want everything,” I say, my voice cutting through the air. “Every movement. Every whisper. Every breath we’ve tracked since Zara disappeared.”
Tomaso clears his throat and opens the file. “We’ve combed through every route out of the hospital, checked camera footage from the garage, the service exits, loading bays. She didn’t leave through a public entrance. She was taken out a side door by the loading dock.”
“By who?” Lars asks, his jaw tight.
“We couldn’t confirm identities, but the working theory is Kavanagh men. It was clean. Professional. They knew where the blind spots were.”
Lars leans forward. “So it was a clean snatch. Planned. Quiet. And fast.”
“Yes,” I say. “Which tells us they wanted her alive.”
