THE MAFIA BOSS SAW HER LIMPING IN A BOARDROOM—AND ASKED THE ONE QUESTION HER BOYFRIEND FEARED MOST

in neat clinical handwriting.

“You’re lucky,” Dr. Brennan had said. “Nothing broken. But luck runs out. You understand that, don’t you?”

Selene understood.

In the kitchen, Luca poured coffee and slid a mug across the island.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Fourteen hours. It’s Saturday. Almost noon.”

She sipped. Strong. Black. Exactly what she needed.

“Your phone’s continue reading …