Chapter 1 - The Anatomy of a Ghost
The interior of the Maybach smelled of costly leather and cold rain. Damian Vance sat back in the deep leather seat, a glass of crystal tumbler in his right hand, his gray-blue eyes tracking Sienna as she stepped inside and let the heavy door thud shut against the dark Manhattan alley.
"You didn't run," Damian observed, his voice a low velvet rumble that cut cleanly through the quiet hum of the engine.
"Running makes you look like prey," Sienna replied smoothly, smoothing her black bartender apron over her knees. She didn't shrink into the corner. She sat upright, meeting his gaze with a cold, measured stillness that belied the racing pulse in her neck. "And I don't look like prey to anyone, Mr. Vance."
Damian let out a soft, approving breath. He signaled the driver, and the limousine glided smoothly into the nighttime traffic of Fifth Avenue.
"Sienna Cross," Damian said, lingering on the name. "Or should I call you Sienna Sterling? Columbia Law, class of two years ago. Top three percent of your cohort. Editor of the Law Review. Offered a junior partnership track at Sterling & Vance—my rival firm."
Sienna’s breath hitched, though her facial expression remained completely immobile. "You’ve been busy tonight."
"Nico is very efficient," Damian said, taking a slow sip of his Macallan. "He found your ghost trail. It took him two hours to crack the encryption on the digital scrub job someone performed on your identity. It was clean work. Federal-grade work. The kind of work an FBI agent with high-level clearance might do for his sister if he knew he was about to step into a meat grinder."
The mention of Caleb hung between them like a drawn blade.
Sienna’s eyes hardened, the icy composure she had worn for ten long months fracturing just enough to reveal the searing flame underneath. "If you know who I am, then you know why I’m here. And you know Garrett Holloway isn't just a dirty client of your club."
"Holloway is a cancer," Damian said flatly. "He uses my private club to launder offshore capital for the Russian syndicate, and he’s been attempting a hostile, illegal takeover of my logistics firm for eighteen months. I’ve been building an airtight case to destroy him financially and put him in a federal cell for the rest of his natural life."
"Financial destruction isn't enough," Sienna hissed, leaning closer, her eyes flashing. "He had my brother executed! He ordered Caleb thrown off a boat because Caleb found the double ledgers!"
"I know," Damian said softly, surprising her. He set his glass down in the illuminated holder. "Which is why you dumping dessert on his lap isn't going to get you justice, Sienna. It's going to get you killed. Tonight was just a warning. Next time, Holloway won't send two street thugs to an alley. He’ll send a professional sniper."
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"I’m not afraid of him."
"Then you’re a fool," Damian countered, his tone turning razor-sharp. "Fear keeps you alive. Passion gets you caught. You want Holloway dead or in chains? You can't do it as a ghost pouring drinks. You need leverage. You need capital. And most importantly, Sienna..." He leaned in so close she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. "...you need me."
