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“As you know, you’re one of our most prestigious clients, Mr. Sinclair, but I can’t disclose any personal information about Miss Turner to you,” she says.

“Fine, whatever the reason is, tell her I’ll double the pay,” I say.

“I’ll find someone else?—”

“I’ll triple it,” I say.

Victoria pauses.

“I’ll speak with her and get back to you,” she says, hanging up.

I stare into the fire.

My heart begins to thaw as I think about the girl. A sense of premonition settles over me like a heavy blanket. Emma Turner is going to be my ruin. She’s going to leave my kingdom in ashes.

And I just lit the match.

7

EMMA

My fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

A white sedan is trailing me. The early morning light barely cuts through the fog, so I can’t make out the driver’s face, but my stomach churns as I think about who it could be.

Adrenaline courses through my system.

My body is on high alert, sensing imminent danger.

A sharp curve looms ahead. I should slow down before taking the turn, but I press harder on the gas. As I swerve the wheel, the tires skid against the damp pavement. I veer into the wrong lane, my chest tightening as an SUV hurtles toward me. The driver ahead flashes the headlights and blares the horn in urgent warning.

I manage to steady the wheel just in time.

My heart is slamming against my throat now.

I glance in the rearview mirror, holding my breath as I scan for the white sedan. The dense morning fog makes it nearly impossible to see. As I exhale in relief, the car emerges, slicing through the mist.

It looms too close for comfort.

A blatant threat.

I want to call someone, but I don’t have anyone to call. I push down my rising panic and turn on the radio.

I let the familiar streets of Ravenwood comfort me. I double-check that all of my doors are locked.

I adjust my rearview mirror so I can’t see what’s behind me.

Out of sight, out of mind.

There’s nothing I can do about this imminent threat, so I let my mind drift. It lands on Klaus Sinclair. I think about the details of his face—his long Greek nose, the scar that cuts across his forehead and cheek, the way the shadows seem to own him. He’s a man who exudes power. I think about his broad shoulders and how they seemed to block out the rest of the world.

My body seems to have the strangest reaction to that man.

The longer I think about him, the easier it gets to breathe.

Before I realize it, the dense trees on either side give way. I’ve entered the town center. The park stretches out to my right, dotted with people walking their dogs. The soft chime of the café bell rings out as early risers stop for their morning coffee.

Nothing bad can happen to me now.