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Chapter One

A message pinged on Elvira Ranieri’s phone. It was from her number two, Roberto. Mattia Esposito was on the move.

Cursing under her breath, she downed the tequila shot that had just been poured for her, excused herself to her friends, and left the bar. Luckily, she’d engineered her night out celebrating a friend’s birthday so she was only a short walk from the hovel Mattia had holed himself up in.

For the last ten days, Elvira and her team had tracked every minute of Mattia’s life. There hadn’t been much tracking to be done. Ten nights ago, Mattia had unlocked the door of a shabby apartment above a bar Elvira and her brothers had been unaware he owned, and hunkered down. She only knew he’d taken refuge there because she’d had him followed after the dinner party her oldest brother had hosted when Elio had coolly informed the Espositos that their empire now belonged to him.

It was a coup decades in the making.

Twenty-six years ago, Mattia’s father Lorenzo had murdered his oldest and closest friend, and framed Elvira’s father for it as justification to start a war with the Ranieris. The war had seen the Ranieris massacred and formed the foundations of Lorenzo’s unstoppable rise. By the time of Lorenzo’s sudden death earlier that year, he’d become one of the most powerful men in Italy, and arguably the richest.

The empire Lorenzo built on the blood of Elvira’s family, both the legitimate and illegitimate, had been taken from his family, and Elvira had been there to witness every delicious minute of it. Her only regret was that Elio had gone back on his word to let her kill Lorenzo’s widow. She’d understood why and had lowered her gun from the bitch’s head, allowing Valeria to live as their hostage for the rest of her natural life, but it still left a bitter taste in her mouth. Valeria was as responsible for the death of Elvira’s parents and everyone associated with them as her bastard husband had been. Elvira had been so young, barely three, that all she remembered of her mother was her smell. Of her father, she remembered nothing.

The Ranieri children had succeeded in their vengeance, and all without a drop of blood being shed, but Elvira took nothing for granted. With Elio at their head, the Ranieris now owned Naples and most of Italy, but the Espositos were still alive and still had small pockets of support. Only ten days ago, Mattia had considered himself king of the world. Only a fool would think he’d take the new situation lying down, especially with his mother being held as surety for her children’s good behaviour.

If any of the Espositos tried to rescue her, the price would be the death of Lorenzo and Valeria’s only daughter, Siena. It had been Siena’s own idea, a desperate bargain forged to save her mother’s life.

Desperation came in many guises, and Elvira was convinced Mattia Esposito posed the biggest threat to her family. He’d spent all his life waiting to step into his father’s shoes, and a blink after he’d taken the prize, it had been snatched away from him.

Instead of accepting the new situation and being grateful the Ranieris had let them escape with their lives, Mattia would be seeking revenge. She knew it in her bones, which was why she’d insisted on being the Ranieri in charge of keeping watch over the man who’d had no time to enjoy being king before being forced to abdicate. Let her take care of the loose cannon while Elio, the new king, consolidated and strengthened their new empire with Bruno, their brother.

In the ten days Mattia had been lying low in his hovel, he’d left it only to buy groceries. His first grocery run had taken place the morning after he’d taken refuge there. By that point, Elvira had already commandeered one of the adjoining apartments, installed listening devices, and gained access to the apartment directly facing his. In the twenty minutes Mattia was gone from the apartment that first time, her team had snuck into it and placed undetectable hidden cameras throughout, and all without leaving a trace of their presence.

Mattia Esposito hadn’t been able to brush his teeth or make himself a coffee without Elvira knowing of it. The cameras were so sensitive she could zoom in and see whatever he was reading or writing on his phone.

Since her brother’s dinner party, Elvira had averaged sixteen-hour days watching Mattia. It should have been boring, but she’d found it fascinating. It had been like watching a full-grown dangerous panther prowl its cage, biding its time to make its move.

This was Mattia making his move. It had to be. It was the first time he’d left his hovel under the cloak of darkness, and she didn’t like that it had coincided with her first night off. When the message came that he was heading in the direction of Gino’s, she upped her pace, cursing herself for wearing knee-high leather boots with five-inch heels.

Nothing she could do about that. Finding him was more important than worrying about her feet killing her in the morning. That he was heading towards Gino’s only increased the urgency.

Gino’s was a nightclub owned by Gino Viccario, a man who’d fought his way into the Espositos inner circle and was engaged to one of their cousins. Despite these ties, Mattia wasn’t stupid enough to believe Gino would help him. Gino was too canny an operator to go against the Ranieris. Elio thought so highly of him that he was in the process of inviting Gino to join them. In fact, he should be there right now.

Was this why Mattia was on the move now, so late in the evening? Was he on the hunt for her brother? How would he even know where Elio was? He’d had no contact with anyone. Not a soul.

Her phone rang. Roberto’s name flashed on the screen.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“He’s disappeared. He went into a bar and never came back out. He must have escaped through a back exit.”

Swearing, she somehow managed to control her tone. “Which bar?”

“Brescia’s.”

She stopped short. Brescia’s was at the top end of the street she’d just turned into. Gino’s nightclub backed onto this very street.

“Call everyone in,” she said with a calmness she absolutely did not feel. “I don’t care what they’re doing. No one sleeps until he’s found.”

“On it.”

The line went dead.

If Roberto had been on it, he would never have lost him. Damn it, her one evening off and her most trusted people had lost their most important mark.

But recriminations had to wait.

Dropping her phone back in her bag, Elvira scanned her surroundings. The street was packed with people enjoying the balmy night, in couples and in packs. No lone men. No one who even resembled Mattia.