Chapter 3 - THE CITY OF GLASS AND SHADOWS
New York autumn sharpened the city into gold edges and cold air. Leaves gathered against the curb outside Moretti International’s Midtown headquarters, swirling in the draft of passing yellow cabs. By eight in the evening, the glass towers reflected darkness, and the city below shone with the restless light of people trying to outrun themselves. I stepped out of the building with my briefcase digging into my shoulder and exhaustion settling deep in my bones. The gala was only days away, and the stress had begun to fray my nerves.
"Miss Russo," Marco said from beside the black sedan, breaking my concentration. "Your car." "I think I’ll walk," I replied, needing the cold air to clear my head. His expression did not change, but the pause before his answer told me everything. "The boss prefers you use the car service after dark." "The boss prefers many things." "Most of them keep people alive." "It’s ten blocks, Marco." "With confidential documents in a locked briefcase, and you in heels." I almost smiled. "I’ve walked in heels before." "Not with Santoro men asking too many questions about Moretti schedules."
That stopped me cold. Marco realized immediately he had said too much, clamping his mouth shut into a hard line. Before I could interrogate him further about the Santoro family's inquiries, Enzo’s voice cut through the evening chill from behind me. "Or explain to me personally why you are determined to make my blood pressure everyone’s problem tonight." I turned to find him standing at the building entrance with his tie loosened and his jacket unbuttoned. He looked formidable, dangerous, and entirely unwilling to compromise on my safety.
