Chapter 1 - The Woman Who Refused to Be Collateral
Sienna shoved the marriage contract across the desk and whispered, “I am not marrying anyone until you change this.”
Lorenzo Costa stepped forward and picked up the contract.
A black fountain pen lay across page nine.
Beside Sienna’s name, someone had written one number by hand.
Lorenzo stopped breathing.
That number was not supposed to be there.
Three days earlier, Sienna Mercer had learned that her father had managed to lose fourteen million dollars without ever leaving Boston.
Harrison Mercer had called it a temporary liquidity problem.
His accountant had called it fraud.
Lorenzo Costa called it a debt.
Sienna called it what it was.
Betrayal.
Now she stood on the opposite side of Lorenzo’s black marble desk while the city glittered thirty-two floors beneath them.
The rain had weakened against the windows.
She barely noticed.
Her red satin gown had been chosen for a charity dinner she was supposed to attend that evening. Instead, Harrison had called her thirty minutes before the event.
“Go to Costa.”
Not please.
Not I’m sorry.
Go.
Only after she arrived had she discovered what her father had promised.
Her.
Lorenzo lowered the contract.
“Where did you see this number before?”
Sienna studied him.
That was interesting.
She had expected anger after demanding Mateo’s voting interest.
She had expected mockery.
Instead, one handwritten number had frightened him.
“I asked you first.”
“You didn’t ask anything.”
“Then I will now. What does forty-seven mean?”
Lorenzo’s eyes shifted toward the young man standing near the bookshelves.
The man in the black suit had not introduced himself.
Until that moment, he had barely moved.
Now his jaw tightened.
Sienna noticed.
So did Lorenzo.
“Adrian,” Lorenzo said.
The man straightened.
“Leave.”
Adrian hesitated.
It lasted less than a second.
Still too long.
Lorenzo turned his head.
“Now.”
Adrian left.
The door closed.
Sienna looked back at Lorenzo.
“That made me considerably more interested in the answer.”
“You should be considerably more interested in staying alive.”
She gave him a level look.
“Your sales technique needs work.”
Something almost resembling amusement crossed his face.
Then it disappeared.
Lorenzo placed the contract flat on the desk.
“Forty-seven means nothing to you.”
“It meant something to your employee.”
“He isn’t my employee.”
“Associate?”
“No.”
“Friend?”
Lorenzo’s expression answered for him.
Definitely not.
Sienna reached toward the contract.
Lorenzo put his hand over page nine before she could touch it.
“Where did this document come from?”
“Your attorney gave it to me downstairs.”
“Which attorney?”
“Daniel Price.”
Lorenzo picked up his phone.
“Get Price.”
He listened.
His eyes darkened.
“When?”
Another silence.
“Lock down the building.”
He ended the call.
Sienna’s posture changed.
“What happened?”
“Daniel Price left twenty minutes ago.”
“That seems normal.”
“He didn’t leave through the lobby.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
“How did he leave?”
Lorenzo looked at her.
“Service elevator.”
Sienna glanced at the contract.
“So?”
“So Daniel Price has worked for my family for eleven years.”
“And?”
“He knows the service elevator has been disabled since Tuesday.”
A beat passed.
Sienna looked again at 47.
“Then how did he use it?”
“He didn’t.”
The implication settled between them.
Someone else had delivered the contract.
Someone Lorenzo’s security staff had mistaken for his attorney.
Sienna should have been frightened.
Instead, she became angry.
Her father had put her into a room where she did not even know the rules.
She picked up her gloves.
“I’m leaving.”
“No.”
Her gaze snapped toward Lorenzo.
“That was not a request.”
“Neither was my answer.”
“You just discovered someone penetrated your security. That sounds like your problem.”
“It became yours when you walked in carrying their message.”
“I didn’t know it was a message.”
“They knew you wouldn’t.”
Sienna stared at him.
“What is forty-seven?”
Lorenzo remained silent.
She laughed once without humor.
“You want me to marry into your family while refusing to tell me why somebody is using my marriage contract to threaten you?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“Then I don’t need to marry Mateo.”
Lorenzo stepped closer.
He was enormous up close.
Most people probably retreated automatically.
Sienna did not.
“Your father owes me fourteen million dollars.”
“My father can answer for fourteen million dollars.”
“Mercer Shipping guarantees the debt.”
“Then take the collateral through a court.”
“That would destroy your company.”
“Perhaps.”
“Six hundred and twelve employees.”
That landed.
Lorenzo knew it would.
Sienna’s father had inherited Mercer Shipping.
Sienna had actually run much of it.
She knew the names of the mechanics who worked overnight at Pier Nine.
She knew which dispatcher had twins in college.
She knew which crane operator was caring for a wife with multiple sclerosis.
Her father had gambled with more than company stock.
He had gambled with lives.
Lorenzo watched her absorb it.
“That is why you came,” he said.
“No. I came because I thought there was still something worth saving.”
“There is.”
“Then separate Harrison’s debt from Mercer Shipping.”
“I told you it was possible.”
“And give me oversight of every contract using Mercer assets.”
“No.”
“Then Mateo can marry someone else.”
“You haven’t even met him.”
“I’ve read newspapers.”
“That is rarely the same thing.”
Sienna folded her arms.
“Did Mateo wreck a Ferrari on Commonwealth Avenue?”
“Yes.”
“Did he break a man’s jaw at a nightclub?”
“Yes.”
“Was he using cocaine?”
“Yes.”
“Did a woman die on his yacht?”
Lorenzo’s face changed.
“No.”
“She went overboard.”
“She died in the water. Mateo did not kill her.”
“Convenient distinction.”
“He jumped after her.”
Sienna paused.
Lorenzo continued.
“He nearly drowned trying to bring her back.”
“Then why does everyone think he killed her?”
“Because somebody wanted them to.”
Sienna’s eyes drifted toward page nine.
Forty-seven.
“Does that have something to do with this?”
No answer.
That was answer enough.
She moved closer to the desk.
“My conditions remain.”
“Even after this?”
“Especially after this.”
Lorenzo stared at her.
Sienna pointed at the contract.
“Mateo never touches me without consent. Harrison’s personal debt is legally severed from Mercer Shipping. I receive access to every port contract involving Mercer assets.”
Lorenzo said nothing.
“And if Mateo dies during the marriage, his twenty-percent voting interest in the Costa port consortium transfers to me.”
Lorenzo’s gaze hardened.
“You researched us.”
“I research everyone who tries to buy me.”
“I am not buying you.”
“What would you call it?”
“A solution.”
“I prefer solutions where I remain a person.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Lorenzo slowly nodded.
“The first condition is accepted.”
Sienna waited.
“The second can be structured.”
“And the third?”
“You get limited audit rights.”
“Full.”
“Limited.”
“Full.”
“No.”
“Then goodbye.”
She turned.
“Sienna.”
She stopped.
It was the first time he had used her name.
“Seventy-five percent.”
She turned back.
“Ninety.”
“Eighty.”
“Ninety.”
Lorenzo exhaled.
“Eighty-five.”
“Full access if discrepancies exceed one million dollars.”
He considered it.
“Agreed.”
“And Mateo’s shares?”
His expression became unreadable.
“Agreed.”
Sienna had expected another fight.
The speed of his answer worried her more than resistance would have.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why give me the shares?”
“Because Mateo isn’t going to die.”
He said it too quickly.
Sienna heard it.
So did he.
Before she could challenge him, the office door opened.
Lorenzo spun around.
The man who entered looked enough like him that Sienna knew immediately.
Mateo Costa.
He was younger than Lorenzo, leaner, devastatingly handsome, with the kind of face magazines forgave too easily.
But the man before her did not look drunk.
He did not look reckless.
He looked terrified.
Blood stained one cuff of his white shirt.
Lorenzo crossed the room.
“What happened?”
Mateo ignored him.
His eyes locked on Sienna.
Then on the contract.
Then on the handwritten 47.
All color left his face.
“Where did she get that?”
Lorenzo blocked his path.
“Mateo.”
Mateo looked at his brother.
“They found her.”
Sienna’s stomach tightened.
“Found who?”
Neither brother answered.
Mateo reached inside his jacket.
Lorenzo grabbed his wrist.
Mateo slowly pulled out a photograph instead.
He put it on the desk.
The image showed a yacht at night.
A woman stood near the railing.
Sienna recognized her from old news reports.
Camille DeLuca.
The woman who had supposedly drowned.
But someone else stood behind Camille.
Harrison Mercer.
Sienna stared at her father’s face.
On the back of the photograph, four words had been written.
SHE SURVIVED FORTY-SEVEN SECONDS.
Sienna looked up.
“What does that mean?”
Mateo’s voice dropped.
“It means the official story was a lie.”
Then Lorenzo’s private phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
May you like
His face went still.
The caller had been dead for two years.
