CHAPTER 1: The Girl in the Rain
It started with thunder.
Not the kind that cracked the sky. The kind that echoed inside a man’s chest—the kind that warned him something was about to change.
Luca Moretti didn’t believe in omens. But the night she broke into his mansion, barefoot and soaked in rain, he felt something shift. And Luca didn’t like change.
He found her sitting in his chair like it belonged to her. One leg folded beneath her, the other lazily swinging. She was soaked to the skin, yet unbothered, like she hadn’t just broken into one of the most dangerous homes in the city.
And she was Indian.
Unmistakably so. Dark eyes that didn’t flinch, full lips that didn’t beg, and a posture that spoke fluent defiance.
She smiled when he walked in.
“Nice place,” she said. “Bit too quiet, though.”
He pointed a gun at her head.
She didn’t blink.
“I could shoot you,” he said, stepping closer.
Her gaze met his without a shred of fear. “You could,” she said. “But you won’t.”
His jaw ticked. “Why not?”
She tilted her head. Rain dripped from her hair onto his leather chair.
“Because I’m not here to kill you,” she whispered. “I’m here to see if you deserve to live.”
