I didn’t sleep the night after Ray appeared in the photo. I kept staring at the printed copy on my desk, the faint silhouette behind Mia, the one I hadn’t noticed when I took the picture. The streetlight had hit his jawline. That unmistakable sharp jaw. The eyes that had held mine the night he cornered me in the hallway.
He was there. In the photo. In broad daylight. Behind my best friend.
Not a ghost. Not a hallucination.
A man. A mafia leader. A predator who had decided I belonged to him.
By seven in the morning, I still hadn’t slept. My coffee was cold. My hands were trembling enough that the cup rattled when I lifted it. I told myself not to look toward the window, but I kept doing it anyway.
He wasn’t there.
Not yet.
Mia knocked around eight, lightly first, then harder when I d
