Chapter 2 - The Trap in Queens
Paige didn't finish her shift. She didn't clock out, and she didn't gather her tips from Rick.
She bolted through the alley door of The Gilded Spoon, her wet shoes slapping violently against the rain-slicked asphalt. She ran four blocks into the freezing Manhattan downpour before hurling herself down the subway stairs, catching the first train toward Queens.
Inside her cramped three-room apartment in Sunnyside, Paige pulled her suitcase out from under the bed.
"Fool," she scolded herself, her trembling hands packing her few clothes. "You careless, stupid fool!"
Her real name was Contessa Paige Falcone. Three years ago, her father’s empire in Sicily fell to rival factions. She had escaped to America with a forged identity, living as a ghost to avoid being used as a pawn in the bloody mafia wars of the East Coast.
She reached into her closet to grab her winter coat—the coat with her real passport sewn into the lining.
CLICK.
The lock on her front door snapped.
The heavy wooden door swung open without a sound.
Standing in the doorway, rain dripping from the brim of his dark coat, was Dominic. Behind him, filling the tiny apartment hallway with an unmistakable aura of lethal authority, was Landon Moretti.
Paige froze, clutching a sweater against her chest.
Landon stepped inside, his polished leather shoes stepping over the worn carpet. He looked around the tiny room—the leaking ceiling, the cold radiator, the cheap suitcases.
"Sarah," Landon said softly, testing the name on his tongue like sour wine. "Or should I say... Paige Falcone?"
"Get out of my apartment," Paige choked out, stepping back until her spine hit the wall. "I don't know who you think I am."
Landon walked over to her desk, picking up a small framed photo of a young girl standing in an olive grove in Palermo.
"My brother Marco loved my mother's lullaby," Landon said quietly, his voice rich and deep in the small room. "He sang it to my nephew every night before he was killed. Only four people in the world knew those words, Paige. Two of them are buried in Palermo. One is sitting in my car downstairs."
He turned to face her, his dark eyes burning with an intense, unyielding light.
"Who are you?" Landon demanded softly. "And why are you wearing a fake name tag in a mid-tier Manhattan bistro?"
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"I am a nobody!" Paige yelled, tears finally breaking through her defense. "I am just a girl trying to stay alive! If your enemies know I’m here—"
"My enemies don't know you're here," Landon interrupted, taking a step closer until he was standing directly in front of her. "Because from this second on, Paige Falcone no longer exists. You are coming with me."
