Chapter 1 - TWO PINK LINES
“Emma?”
Liam’s voice came through the bathroom door.
“You okay?”
I stared at the pregnancy test in my shaking hand.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
My real name was Elizabeth Hart.
Emma was a lie.
And the child growing inside me belonged to Alessandro Vitali.
That made the lie dangerous.
But not for the reason Alessandro would eventually assume.
“Liz?”
Liam corrected himself quietly.
Only he used my real name inside the apartment.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re throwing up.”
“Bad coffee.”
“My coffee is excellent.”
“Debatable.”
He stayed outside.
That was Liam.
He asked.
Then waited.
I wrapped the pregnancy test in toilet paper and slipped it beneath a stack of cleaning wipes in the cabinet.
When I opened the door, Liam Carter stood there wearing flannel pajama pants and holding a mug.
He had known me since seventh grade.
He knew the name Elizabeth.
He knew why I became Emma.
At least he knew half of it.
His eyes narrowed.
“You’re white.”
“I’m usually white.”
“More.”
“Thank you.”
“Liz.”
I walked past him.
He followed.
“Is this about Vitali?”
I stopped.
Liam knew I had worked the gala.
He knew Alessandro had spoken to me.
He did not know about room 1520.
“No.”
Lie.
Liam stared.
“Did Rourke contact you again?”
That name tightened every muscle in my body.
Sebastian Rourke.
Chicago property developer.
Private-equity predator.
And Alessandro Vitali’s most public business rival.
Six months earlier, Rourke had hired me for what he called “simple observational work.”
I was drowning in student-loan payments.
Nursing school had become impossible.
I worked two jobs.
Rourke’s assistant offered $8,000.
No hacking.
No theft.
No sex.
Just observe a woman at public events.
Photograph who she met.
Record dates.
Report where she went.
Her name?
Emma Grace Bell.
Twenty-six.
Blond.
Quiet.
Apparently connected somehow to Alessandro Vitali.
Rourke claimed she was helping Alessandro hide financial transfers.
I believed enough of the story because I needed the money.
That was mistake number one.
Then Emma Bell disappeared.
Two months into the assignment.
Rourke told me to stop looking.
“Contract completed.”
But one week later, someone broke into my apartment.
Nothing valuable taken.
Only the notebook containing my observations.
That was when Liam moved me into his spare room.
And when I stopped using Elizabeth publicly.
I chose Emma.
Why?
Panic.
Bad judgment.
Maybe because the name had already become associated in my mind with danger rather than me.
If someone searched Elizabeth Hart, I wanted distance.
I never expected to meet Alessandro Vitali.
Then he asked my name.
And “Emma” came out.
Mistake number two.
Now I was carrying his baby.
Mistake?
I could not call the baby that.
No.
Whatever Alessandro and I had done in room 1520, I had chosen.
The deception was mine.
The pregnancy was something else.
Liam stood in the kitchen.
“Rourke hasn’t contacted you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He studied me.
“You need to stop using Emma.”
“I know.”
“He could be searching for her.”
“I know.”
“You never found out why.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you still—”
“Because changing everything again costs money.”
He stopped.
Fair.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I froze.
Liam saw.
“Don’t answer.”
I almost agreed.
Then another message appeared.
MR. VITALI WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK WITH YOU.
My pulse exploded.
Then:
THIS IS HIS OFFICE. NOT MR. ROURKE.
Liam read over my shoulder.
“Absolutely not.”
I looked at the message.
Six weeks.
No contact.
I had told myself Alessandro forgot me.
A billionaire meeting a catering worker for one night?
Why wouldn’t he?
Then a third message:
He found something belonging to you.
My stomach tightened.
“What did you leave?”
Liam asked.
“I don’t know.”
I texted:
What?
Reply:
A silver nursing-school pin.
My mother’s.
I had worn it inside my clutch the night of the gala.
My mother graduated nursing school in 1991.
After she died, the pin was one of the few things I kept.
I closed my eyes.
“Damn it.”
Liam said:
“Have someone else pick it up.”
Then another message arrived.
This time directly from a new number.
You told me your name was Emma.
I stared.
Then:
Why does the pin say ELIZABETH HART?
My blood turned cold.
Alessandro knew.
Not everything.
Enough.
I had two choices.
Run again.
Or finally stop letting other people tell the story before I did.
I typed:
Because Emma isn’t my name.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then:
Come to my office at noon. Public floor. Bring whoever you trust.
I looked at Liam.
He read it.
“Better than a basement.”
“Your standards are reassuring.”
Then Alessandro sent one final message.
And Elizabeth?
My stomach tightened at seeing my name from him.
If Sebastian Rourke is the reason you lied, you need to tell me before he finds out I know who you are.
I stopped breathing.
Liam whispered:
“How does he know about Rourke?”
That was the real question.
At noon, I walked into Vitali Tower with Liam beside me.
I was pregnant.
Alessandro knew my real name.
And before I even reached the elevator, I realized the lie I had told six weeks earlier was about to collide with another secret.
A woman stood behind the lobby security desk.
Blond hair.
Blue eyes.
Thin scar near her chin.
I knew her immediately.
Even though I had not seen her in six months.
Emma Grace Bell.
The woman Sebastian Rourke had paid me to spy on.
Alive.
May you like
And working inside Alessandro Vitali’s building.
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