Page 1 of A New Dawn

Prologue

Gualtiero

I’msittinginmydarkened office. I want it dark. It fits my mood.

A dimmed desk lamp lets me see just enough, as does the hint of moonlight through the open window.

I let out a long breath as I tap my finger against the rim of my whiskey glass. Picking it up, I down it in one motion. This is top shelf shit, but it might as well be water.

Ella has been gone for precisely seventeen days.

The longest fucking seventeen days of my life.

Not knowing where she is, and if she is safe… I can hardly breathe.

Not being able to see her, hear her voice, or touch her—it’s pure torture.

I cannot live without this woman.

I need her in my life. And more than that, I need her love.

Yes, I know she ran. But she does love me, I’m certain of it. She said so, and Ella would never lie. Besides that, I felt it… deep in my soul.

Whatever had her spooked, made her flee, we’ll work it out together.

Mauro and Sergio, two of my capos and their teams, are still in Switzerland searching for her. Mauro found the Bed & Breakfast where she stayed after she got off the train in Lucerne, but the trail goes cold there.

She couldn’t have just disappeared. They will find a lead; I have to believe that, or I will go insane.

Currently, though, there’s no trace of her. This means one of three things.

Either someone is helping her, or Molinaro got to her before I could. But if he had her, why would he wait to use her against me?

Or the third possibility, Ella is outwitting us all. I’ve underestimated her before. It’s possible she has us all fooled with her air of innocence. Perhaps she’s escaped to some remote alpine region. To find her there would take time. But I want her backnow.

I get up abruptly from my desk chair, the force of my movement sending it flying backward. I pace my office like a caged lion, rubbing my neck.

Have I ever felt so tense in my life?

I’ve waited years, a lifetime even, for Ella to come into my life. How did I lose her in the first month? Yeah, I fucked up… but how did I fuck upthatbadly?

My computer pings with an incoming message and my phone rings at the same time.

Mateo.

“Any news?” I ask without a greeting.

“Man, when it rains, it pours.”

“Fuck. What now?”

“Open your email. I’ve sent you pictures.”

I sit down at my desk again and bring my computer to life. Opening the message from my brother, a set of pictures confronts me.

“That fucking cunt,” I curse. “Where is he now?”

“Dead. As are the three men with him.”

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