Chapter 1.
Previously...
Trust couldn't make herself get out of the hot bath. The heat soaked into her muscles, soothing the tension from a hectic day of returning a stolen ring and seeing a fake chef. She remembered the Chinese food delivery was on its way and forced herself to sit up, grabbing a washcloth to wipe off her pink mud face mask. But before she could, a knock sounded at the door. The cloth slipped from her hand into the water.
"Just a minute!" Trust called from the bath, hoping the delivery boy heard. If she didn't get to the door, he'd leave the food on the doorstep, and the woman from across the corridor would complain about the smell. Not wanting to hear that again at the next owners' meeting, she moved quickly.
Wrapping herself in a white robe, Trust grabbed a ten-dollar bill from her bag and rushed to unlock the door. But as soon as she opened it, a large figure lunged at her, a hand clamping around her throat. Her body twisted, and she hit the floor hard, the breath knocked from her lungs.
She recognized the scent—musk with a hint of cinnamon. She'd once loved that smell. Now it terrified her.
"You!" Trust gasped. It was Ryan Castle, her double-crossing ex-boyfriend.
He sneered as she scrambled to her feet, clutching her robe tighter around her. "Look at you, Trust. Just like I imagined."
Her heart pounded. The last time she'd seen him, he'd tried to strangle her before the police hauled him away. Jack had saved her. She pulled herself together—if Ryan wanted her dead, she would be already. "What do you want?"
"I'll get to that. How've you been?"
"You better go. I'm expecting someone."
"Yeah, sure looks like it." He stepped closer, pinning her against the wall.
"It's true!" Trust spat out. "Why else wouldn't I check who was at the door? I thought it was him."
"Who'd you be expecting dressed like that? With that gunk on your face?" Ryan smirked. "Not a lover. Not anyone important. Lying again, aren't you, Trust?"
"What do you want?" She stepped to the side, putting space between them.
"I'm here on business."
"I'm not interested in anything you have to say."
"I think you will be." He strolled over to the couch and sat down.
"Why would I want anything to do with you? You can't be trusted." She stayed near the door.
"Not so. I warned you at the airport it was a trap, right before I got shot." His tone softened, as if that erased everything else.
"You left me to drown once, another time you wrapped me in plastic to smother me, and you tried to strangle me. How does that make us even?"
Ryan shrugged.
"Where are the diamonds you stole from me?”
"I told you, I don't know." His nonchalance only fueled her anger.
"I'll find them. No matter what it takes."
He leaned back, pressing his fingertips together. "I'm proposing a truce."
"I'm proposing you get out of my apartment."
Before Ryan could respond, the delivery boy appeared at the door, hand raised to knock. His eyes widened at the sight of Trust in her robe, with a face mask still smeared on, and Ryan lounging on the couch. He thrust the takeout at her. "Here you go."
"Wait! I have a tip for you." But the boy was already in the elevator, doors closing behind him.
Ryan chuckled. "Is that who you were expecting?"
"None of your business." Trust slammed the door shut. "Get out!"
Ryan stayed seated, a twisted grin on his face. "Not until I've said what I came to say."
"I don't care what you have to say. Leave, or I'll call the police."
"I don't think so." His calm confidence unnerved her.
Trust realized calling the police would raise too many questions. The FBI was on her side because of Jack, but the police wouldn't be. With a sigh, she sat down on the couch across from him, putting the takeout bag next to her. "What is it?"
“Like I said, I have a proposition."
"Tell me, and then leave."
Ryan's amusement faded, replaced by a hard edge. "You and I could make a lot of money together."
"I don't need your money."
"Liar. I know you, Trust. It's in your blood."
She narrowed her eyes. "I've stopped. Since I've been working with the FBI."
He chuckled. "Sure you have. But we both know you haven't."
"Get to the point."
"I'm involved with a group. We steal from thieves. And we need you."
"I already know you're part of the Shadows. It wasn’t hard to figure it out."
He nodded slightly. "We don't use that name anymore, but yes. We need you to break into a safe."
"The answer's no." She stood and opened the door again. "Now get out."
Ryan pulled out a gun, placing it on the coffee table between them. "Sit down."
She slowly closed the door and returned to her seat. "What makes you think I'll help you?"
"Because if you don't, life will get very difficult for you." His gaze flicked to the gun.
Trust's mind raced. She couldn't involve Jack, and calling the police wasn't an option. "I'll think about it."
"I'm not leaving until you agree. I've got something to show you." He pulled out his phone and started playing a video.
"That's the jewelry robbery from a couple of days ago. I’ve seen it on the news,” Trust said.
"Yes, and that's where you come in."
She frowned at him. "Me?"
"Yes. Why don't you get that stuff off your face. I can barely look at you like that."
"Fine." Trust stood abruptly. "I'll be right back."
She hurried to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She grabbed her phone and checked the security cameras. It was offline again. That was annoying, but it happened every now and again. She splashed cold water on her face, wiping off the mask, her mind whirling with ways she could get Ryan out of her apartment. She’d have to agree with what he said just to have him leave or he could get violent.
When she returned to the living room, Ryan was slumped on the floor. Motionless.
Her breath caught in her throat. "Ryan?"
No response.
She knelt beside him and checked for a pulse.
Nothing. He wasn't breathing.
Ryan Castle was dead.
Panic set in. What was she supposed to do? Call the police? They'd think she killed him. Hide the body? Impossible.
She grabbed her phone and ran to her bedroom. There was only one person she could call.
"Jack," she sobbed when he answered. "Ryan Castle is dead. In my apartment."
Jack's voice was calm. "I'm on my way. Don't touch anything."
She dropped the phone and collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming down her face. How had this nightmare come to her doorstep? Minutes felt like hours, but soon she heard the door open.
"Trust?" Jack's voice echoed through the apartment.
She rushed to meet him. "He's in the living room. He's... dead."
But when they entered the room, Ryan was gone.
She stared in disbelief. Ryan had been right there, dead on her floor. She'd checked for a pulse. Now, the spot where his lifeless body had been was empty. No trace of him, no sign he'd ever been there.
Trust's heart raced.
What was happening?
Was she losing her mind, or had someone been there while she was waiting for Jack? She felt the panic rise again, her grip tightening on the doorframe as she turned to Jack, her voice trembling.
"He was here, Jack. I swear he was right here..."
But all Jack could do was look at her, sympathy filling his eyes. "There's no one here."
