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"Okay" The dark-haired man still hovers above me, watching with curious eyes. I'm holding my breath, hoping my lies are enough to set me free. "I believe you, Olivia."

I relax as the sound of his voice washes over me. He believes me.I'm safe.

Then he adds words that make my stomach clench all over again. "But I don't know if I can trust you."

"You can!" I say quickly.

He chuckles. "Sure, that's what you say. But how am I supposed tobelievethat?" He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to add more reasoning of why he can trust me. But he's right, trust is earned.

I chew on my lips, and his eyes dart to them. Slowly, he reaches forward and tugs my bottom lip free, making me gasp. "Don't do that around me," he whispers.

Swallowing hard, I ask. "Why?"

"You don't want to know." He shakes his head, dropping his hand and pulling back.

"I swear I won't tell anyone," I plead, hoping that will be enough for him to let me go, even if I know it's a feeble attempt. I'm dealing with a dangerous man here. A man who clearly doesn't have an issue killing people. Why not just kill me and solve his problem?

"I hope that's true, Olivia. But until I can trust you, I'm going to keep you."

"Keep me?" I nearly balk. Fear wraps around my heart, squeezing tightly. What does he even mean bykeep me?

The stranger smiles. "Yes. Keep you. It's a win/win, don't you think? You get to keep your life, and I get to make sure that you won't do something stupid the second I let you go. I'm giving you a chance to earn my trust, Olivia. If you do, I'll set you free."

"And if I don't?"

The corners of his lips tic up even more. "I think you know the answer to that."

I die.

Tears pool at the edges of my vision, and I do everything I can to keep them from falling. Tilting my head back, I swallow past the lump in my throat.

As what he’s saying really sinks in, anger builds inside of me. Who is this man to think that he can justkeep me? All because I saw something I shouldn't have. But he did it in a public alley! I did nothing wrong. I was just taking out the trash and minding my business.

"This isn't my fault!" I shout, the frustration boiling over.

He doesn't seem to care much, unfazed by my outburst.

"Unfortunately, sometimes bad things happen to good people."

I scoff. "And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"No." He shakes his head. "It's just the truth."

Somehow, that only makes me angrier, and I clench my fists. This state of limbo that he plans on keeping me in wasn't what Iexpected. It was black or white to me, life or death. I've escaped death, but now my life isn't mine. Now I belong to this sick murderer until he decides he can trust me enough to let me go.

Is that even possible for someone like him? Will he ever let me go?

My head is spinning and my stomach twists with sickness. I can't handle my new reality, and I have the urge to get up and run. But I'm barefoot and disoriented, with no idea where I am.

He reaches forward, his hands landing on my shoulders, the weight anchoring me.

"You're okay," he says, and that deep voice calms me in a way I wish it didn't. I'm still pissed.

"I don't even know your name!" I shout.

Those perfect lips tilt on that perfect jawline. "Sam. Sam Costello."

Realization floods me, and my pulse stutters. This is why Joey was so worried. Not just because I saw a murder and not just because it involved the mafia. But theCostellofamily. The Costellosarethe mafia in New Orleans. They've run the primary criminal family since before I was born.