Chapter 1: The Waitress Who Heard Too Much
"I was just a waitress when I overheard a mafia boss's wife whispering to her lover that they had sabotaged her husband's brakes.
I ran to warn him, but I was seconds too late.
By the time I reached the mountain road, his car was already disappearing over the cliff, and I became the only person close enough to pull him back from death.
My name is Cara Fields.
At twenty-seven, my world was tips, overdue rent, and twelve-hour shifts at Bellini's, an expensive restaurant where powerful people rarely noticed the woman refilling their glasses.
That was why Vanessa Moretti didn't notice me that night.
She sat in a private booth with a man who wasn't her husband.
I was clearing the table behind the partition when I heard him whisper,
"It's done."
Vanessa lowered her voice.
"The brakes?"
"Cut just enough.
They'll fail on the mountain road."
My hands went still.
Then she laughed softly.
"By midnight, I'll be a grieving widow."
I knew exactly who her husband was.
Dante Moretti.
Thirty-eight.
Wealthy.
Untouchable.
The man newspapers called a businessman and everyone else called the most powerful mafia boss on the East Coast.
I should have walked away.
People like me survived by pretending not to hear things.
Then Vanessa's lover said,
"Dante leaves in ten minutes."
My stomach dropped.
I ran.
Dante's black car was already pulling away when I burst through the restaurant doors.
"Mr.
Moretti!"
He never heard me.
I didn't think.
I grabbed my keys and followed.
Rain hammered my windshield as his taillights climbed the mountain road ahead.
I called 911.
Then I called the number printed on Moretti's business card I'd once found beneath a dinner plate.
No answer.
I flashed my headlights.
Honking.
Screaming.
Then his brake lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Nothing.
The car entered the next curve too fast.
It smashed through the guardrail.
And vanished.
"No!"
I slammed my car to a stop and ran.
The wreck hadn't reached the bottom.
It was caught against a tree below the road, tilted over a ravine.
Dante was half-conscious inside.
I climbed down through mud and broken branches until my hands were bl**ding.
"Wake up!"
His gray eyes opened.
"Who are you?"
"The waitress."
The tree cracked.
I reached through the shattered window and grabbed his arm.
He was twice my weight.
I pulled anyway.
The car shifted.
"Leave me," he growled.
"No."
Another crack.
I screamed and pulled with everything I had.
Dante came free just as the car tore loose beneath us.
It disappeared into the darkness.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then headlights flooded the road above.
Black SUVs.
Dozens of them.
Men poured out.
One spotted me kneeling over Dante, my hands covered in his bl**d.
A g*n came up.
Then another.
And another.
Dante suddenly grabbed my wrist.
"Don't sh**t her."
Every man froze.
He looked at me through the rain.
"Now tell me, waitress."
May you like
His voice turned terrifyingly calm.
"How did you know my brakes were going to fail?"
