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But even though I’ve broken through and finally earned some notoriety, I haven’t slowed up. I’ve only gone harder. I’ve delved straight into the stories nobody else wants to touch.

The crime families that have begun to take over the city.

Newport was once one of the safest cities in the country. Yet over recent years, crime has spiked, and a pattern has emerged. Organized crime has taken over, and a mafia war has broken out. The Bellucci and Tuco families have risen to the top as the aggressors, with the fearsome crime boss nicknamedIl Diavoloin charge.

But he’s been as elusive as the wind. Both crime families have maintained enough discretion to slip past the police’s clutches.

I won’t stop ’til that changes. I won’t stop ’til I’ve not only exposed both crime families, but I’ve exposedIl Diavolohimself.

It’s become the focal point of my life. Something Jayla says isn’t healthy, but something I know I must achieve.

We ride across the city in the action van with only half-assed attempts at conversation. Baron taps away at his phone, the device pinging every few seconds.

He sighs and scrubs a hand at his brown-gray stubble. “Shit. Why now?”

“What is it?” I ask.

“Finkle wants us at the station for a meeting.”

“Right now? It’s almost seven in the evening.”

“He says it’s important. Apparently, some acquisitions meeting.”

“Acquisitions?” I can’t hide the dip of my lips as I blink at him.

“There’ve been rumors, but I hoped it wasn’t true.”

I don’t get much more out of Baron over the next few minutes. We pull up to the station and the camera crew hops out to unload their equipment. He beckons me along, heading straight for the doors of the tall building. I swallow down the hundred different questions I have and follow.

We ride the elevator to the top floor with Baron offering no further details.

The elevator doors roll open to the hall outside the executive board room, walled in by glass on every side. He leads the way through the doors, nodding at Finkle. I do the same, still lost as to what’s going on.

And then I freeze.

Seated around the long table are various high-ranking members at the news station. They’re waiting, businesslike as usual, with only a few empty seats between them. But they’re not the ones who knock the air out of my lungs and halt me in my tracks.

It’s the man in a neat all-black suit and tie seated at the head of the table. His dark eyes land on me instantly, shining bright at the sight of me.

“Portia,” Baron says. “Meet Mr. Calderone. He’s in talks to purchase Metro News.”

7

PORTIA

“Gentlemen,”Mr. Calderone says, nodding in acknowledgment. His gaze pans from the men seated around the long table to where I stand at the front of the room. Subtle amusement flickers across his face. “Lady.”

Hot flames eat me up from the inside. I can only blink in disbelief as I feel like I’m on the brink of spontaneous combustion.

My hostile reaction must read on my face because Finkle and Baron exchange looks and Finkle clears his throat.

“Err… yes, well, how about we get this meeting underway?”

“Portia,” Baron whispers into my ear. He nudges my side. “Your seat.”

I lurch forward like I’m made of wood, my gaze still stuck on the man sitting at the head of the table.

Rafael—or Mr. Calderone as they’re calling him—openly returns my shocked gaze. He sits calmly in his impeccable suit and tie, his expression neutral to anyone clueless about our past. But to me, the look on his face reads loud and clear.