My father always said that people build their own prisons. He just forgot to mention who holds the key.

I survived the bomb. I survived the bayou. I even put a knife through the man who taught me how to play the game. Running from the people hunting me should be my only priority, but my father's Black Book had another directive waiting for me in Venice.

Save Lucia Ventresca.

To the world, she's a phenomenal opera singer living in luxury along the Venetian canals. To her violent arms-dealer husband, she's just another piece of property to bleed.

My father trained me to calculate risk, anticipate every move, and execute without drama. He didn't train me for the moment my target's past collides with my mother's name.

Now I'm trapped in a crumbling palazzo, woefully underarmed, with a house full of mercenaries between us and the water.

Salviati thinks he's the predator in this house. He's about to learn that cornered animals bite hardest.

If you're looking for a fairy tale, look elsewhere.

If you want to see how I became the woman people fear…

Your next lesson starts here.