Her fingers adjusted the diamond ring on her hand—she was still getting used to the new accessory—then drifted to the slim gold chain around her neck, nearly hidden beneath the neckline of her gown. At its center was a delicate pendant—beautiful, understated, and completely functional.

Inside the charm was a discreet tracking device, something Matteo had insisted she wear at all times. Arabella had rolled her eyes when he first gave it to her, calling it overkill. But she'd worn it anyway—partly to humor him, and partly because, deep down, she knew better than most how quickly the world could turn on its head.

A massacre. A betrayal. A single bullet. Safety was never a guarantee.

The door opened with a soft click, and a voice informed her that it was time. She turned from the mirror, letting the pendant fall back against her skin.

Arabella stepped into the hall. The smell of polished wood greeted her—but it was the presence at the far end that drew her eye.