Chapter 1 The Wrong Side Of London

• "I am lost," Aria Morgan muttered into her cell phone. "At least I hope I am lost, because if not, then I am in real trouble. Look, Maya, I need to go. I will talk to you later."
• Aria slipped her phone into her bag and glared at the creased map of London clenched in her hand. She had an appointment at a nightclub called The Crazy Frog, and she was almost sure she was in the right area. Almost.
• But surely she could not be.
• She did not know London well. She had not been back since her father, Richard Morgan, had vanished ten years ago, leaving nothing but debts and questions behind him. The streets around her looked nothing like the glamorous image of a nightclub she had pictured. Instead, they were run down, shadowed by cracked pavements and fading neon lights. The buildings leaned close together as if whispering secrets no one else could hear. This felt like a place where people disappeared, not where they danced.
• Her stomach tightened. A nightclub here would not be stylish. It would be dangerous, seedy, a place where respectable people had no business being. And yet here she was, wearing high heels that pinched her feet, a black dress that made her look braver than she felt, and carrying the weight of a family's survival on her shoulders.
• The sun had not yet sunk, though it was nearly seven in the evening. Golden light spilled over rooftops, mocking her as her head throbbed from the endless noise of traffic. Every step reminded her of the foolishness of her plan. She could turn back, walk away, go home. But what home would be left? Without money, without help, without answers, her brother Noah would have nothing. Their housekeeper, their three cats, and even their dog would be lost to the banks.
• She had no choice. She had to go forward, even if her stomach churned with nerves.
• Aria paused at the curb, closing her eyes in silent prayer for some sign. The answer came in the sleek form of a black sports car sliding to a stop across the street. The door opened and a man unfolded himself from the driver's seat with a grace that was both fluid and predatory.
• He was tall, broad shouldered, his dark suit cut with perfection, his presence impossible to ignore. His movements carried an ease that spoke of power and control, a man accustomed to getting what he wanted without question. His hair caught the last rays of the sun, and though his face was in shadow, Aria felt the magnetic pull of his presence.
• She rarely noticed men. But this one was different. She could not look away.
• He crossed the pavement without hesitation and disappeared through a set of tall black doors. When they closed behind him, she finally drew a breath and lifted her eyes to the sign above the entrance.
• She blinked. How had she missed it? A garish painting of a grinning green frog, wide-eyed and absurd, stared down at her. This had to be it. The Crazy Frog.
• Relief surged through her, quickly followed by dread. Because beneath the painted frog hung a photograph of a nearly naked woman, posed suggestively beneath flashing lights.
• Aria's heart sank. She was not simply in the wrong part of town. She was walking into the wrong kind of club.
• But she had come too far to stop now.
• Inside, Stefan Romano walked through the dim interior, memories crowding him with every step. The scents of smoke and alcohol, the throb of heavy bass, the shadows alive with whispered promises. Once, long ago, this had been his world.
• At eighteen, he had sat at these very tables with reckless laughter and careless dreams. That was before Richard Morgan had destroyed everything, before betrayal had carved scars into his soul. Nothing had changed in the club, not the dim lights or the hungry music. But Stefan had changed. He was no longer the boy who wasted nights here. He was a man who owned empires. A man who had clawed his way back from ruin. A man with debts of the past yet to settle.
• The place was nearly empty. On stage, a blonde clung to a steel pole, her curves twisting in time to a rock song older than she was. As Stefan passed, she faltered, then redoubled her efforts when his eyes swept her way. He gave her a brief smile, then dismissed her. She was not the reason he was here.
• At the bar, the man pouring drinks glanced up at him. Stefan's presence needed no introduction.
• "I am here to see Julian," Stefan said simply.
• The bartender tilted his head toward the far side of the room, where shadowed booths lined the wall. Stefan strode there with the confidence of someone who never doubted his steps.
• Julian Rossi sat waiting, a glass in his hand and his eyes watchful. Years had passed, but the man had hardly changed.
• "Stefan," Julian greeted, raising his glass. "What will you drink?"
• "Nothing." Stefan slid into the seat across from him.
• "Are you sure?" Julian studied him, his grin edged with curiosity. "Nice suit. Italian, no doubt. Did your mother send it over?"
• Stefan inclined his head.
• Julian sighed. "You look like a goddamned playboy. You do not fit in here anymore."
• Stefan's lips curved. "And you do."
• Julian laughed softly, then leaned forward. "I received your invitation. And yes, I accepted. I would not miss the most glamorous party of the year, especially not when it is for charity. You could have left this world behind, Stefan. Most men would have. But instead you are reaching back to it. That is a good thing you are doing."
• "I think so," Stefan said. "But cut the social talk, Julian. Tell me why I am here."
• Julian took a long drink, then lowered his glass with a sigh. His eyes gleamed with something sharp and knowing.
• "All right then. Let me ask you straight. Just how interested are you in finding Richard Morgan?"
• Aria Morgan, still outside, gathered her courage and stepped toward the same doors Stefan Romano had just passed through. She had no idea that her search for truth would lead her into the path of a man with every reason to hate her. She did not know that her family's secrets were about to entangle her in ways she could not escape.
• And she could not imagine that before the week was done, her life, her heart, and her destiny would belong to Stefan Romano.