Raven's POV
Raven doesn't sleep.
She sits in the 24-hour diner three blocks from Lincoln Park, drinking burnt coffee and staring at Dante Ashford's photo until the sun rises. Those steel-blue eyes seem to follow her even on paper.
At 7 AM, her burner phone rings.
"You survived the night." Morrison's voice sounds almost surprised. "Good. Meet me at warehouse seventeen on the docks in one hour. We need to prepare you for tonight."
The call ends before she can respond.
Raven takes a cab to the industrial district, her last twenty dollars gone. The warehouse Morrison mentioned looks abandoned—rusted doors, broken windows, weeds growing through concrete. She's about to turn back when the door creaks open.
Morrison stands inside, but he's not alone.
A young woman with purple-streaked hair and a laptop sits on a crate, grinning. "Finally! The legendary Raven Blackwell. I'm Luna Park, and I'm going to save your life."
Raven freezes. "How do you know my—"
"Luna's a hacker," Morrison interrupts. "Best in Chicago. She'll be your tech support on this operation. She already wiped your digital footprint and created your new identity—Raven Black, security consultant."
Luna waves her fingers. "You're welcome. Also, your credit cards are unfrozen now. Well, technically they're my credit cards, but they have your new name on them. And I deleted those awful photos of you vomiting in the alley from seventeen news sites."
Despite everything, Raven almost smiles. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. We've got eighteen hours to turn you from a broken detective into someone Dante Ashford will want to hire." Luna jumps off the crate. "First lesson: Dante doesn't respect weakness. You show up at that gala looking desperate, he'll smell it. You need to be confident, mysterious, and slightly dangerous."
"I am desperate."
"Then you'll fake it till you make it." Morrison pulls out more folders. "Dante Ashford, age thirty-four. Parents and younger sister murdered when he was twelve by Vincent Moretti, a mob boss. Dante survived by hiding in a closet and watching them die."
Raven's stomach turns. "That's horrible."
"It gets worse. Moretti was arrested but Commissioner Voss made the evidence disappear. Moretti walked free and celebrated at a restaurant that same night. Dante was placed in foster care, inherited his family's company at eighteen, and built it into an eight-billion-dollar empire." Morrison taps the folder. "He's brilliant, ruthless, and has never been in a serious relationship. No close friends except Adrian Cross, his head of security."
"And you think he's the Reaper because..."
"Because every victim is connected to his family's murder. The CEO who poisoned water? He was Moretti's accountant. The judge who freed rapists? He was the one who threw out evidence in Dante's case. The socialite who killed her maid? She was Moretti's girlfriend who provided his alibi." Morrison's voice drops. "Dante is systematically eliminating everyone who helped his family's killer escape justice."
Luna pulls up photos on her laptop. "The kills are surgical. Professional. No DNA, no witnesses, no mistakes. Whoever the Reaper is, he's been planning this for years."
Raven studies the crime scene photos. Each body positioned carefully. Each "R" carved with precision. "If he's this careful, how am I supposed to find proof?"
"By being someone he trusts." Morrison hands her a earpiece. "This is a wire. Luna will monitor everything you say. If Dante gets suspicious or dangerous, she'll alert me and we pull you out immediately."
"What if he searches me? Finds the wire?"
"He won't. You're his type—strong, damaged, looking for purpose. He'll see a kindred spirit." Morrison meets her eyes. "Your job tonight is simple: make contact, intrigue him, make him want to know more about you. Don't push. Don't ask suspicious questions. Just plant the seed."
"And if he doesn't bite?"
"He will. I've studied Dante for three months. He's lonely. Isolated. Looking for someone who understands what it's like to be betrayed by the system." Morrison's expression softens. "Someone exactly like you, Raven."
Luna starts typing. "Security at the Regency Hotel is tight, but I've already hacked their cameras. I'll see everything. Also, I made you a fake résumé—six years in private security for wealthy clients, glowing references, the whole package. If Dante's people check, it'll all hold up."
Raven's head spins. This is real. Tonight she'll meet a possible serial killer and try to gain his trust.
"What if I'm wrong?" she whispers. "What if he's not the Reaper? What if I'm wasting time while Marcus and Scarlett—"
"Then we find that out and move to the next suspect." Morrison grips her shoulder. "But my gut says it's Dante. And if we catch him, we can leverage his victim list to expose Voss's entire network. We bring down everyone who hurt you, Raven. All of them."
The promise burns through her chest.
Luna stands. "Okay, fashion time. You can't wear whatever that is." She gestures at Raven's jeans and hoodie. "We're shopping. Well, I'm shopping with my illegal credit cards. You're coming along to model."
"I don't need—"
"You need to look like someone Dante Ashford can't ignore." Luna grins. "Trust me. By tonight, you'll be a whole new woman."
Six hours later, Raven barely recognizes herself in the mirror.
Luna bought her a sleek black dress, professional but elegant. Her hair is styled, makeup subtle but striking. She looks dangerous. Powerful. Nothing like the broken woman who ran from the press conference three days ago.
"Perfect," Luna breathes. "He's going to fall for you so hard."
"I'm not trying to seduce him. I'm investigating him."
"Sometimes those are the same thing." Luna winks. "Now, one more thing before you go."
She pulls out a small silver necklace with a pendant that looks like a simple teardrop.
"This is a tracker. If something goes wrong, if you feel unsafe, press the pendant three times fast. Morrison and I will come get you." Luna fastens it around Raven's neck. "Promise me you'll use it if you need to."
Raven touches the pendant. "I promise."
At 7:45 PM, a town car picks her up. Luna gives her a fierce hug. "Kick ass, detective. Show that billionaire what a real woman looks like."
The drive to the Regency Hotel feels too short. Raven's heart hammers as she walks through the gold-trimmed doors into a ballroom full of Chicago's elite. Chandeliers. Champagne. People in designer clothes pretending to care about crime victims.
She scans the room, looking for steel-blue eyes.
And then she sees him.
Dante Ashford stands near the bar, surrounded by admirers but somehow separate from them. He's more beautiful in person—sharp features, perfect suit, and an aura of controlled danger. His eyes sweep the room like a predator assessing prey.
Then his gaze lands on her.
Time stops.
Dante's expression shifts—surprise, then intense interest. He says something to the people around him and starts walking toward her with deliberate, confident steps.
Raven's mouth goes dry. In her ear, Luna whispers, "He's coming to you. Oh my God, he's totally coming to you. Play it cool!"
Dante stops in front of her, those steel-blue eyes pinning her in place.
"You don't belong here," he says, his voice smooth and dark.
Raven forces herself to breathe. "Excuse me?"
"Everyone here is performing. Playing their roles in society's theater. But you—" His gaze traces her face like he's memorizing every detail. "You're hunting something. I recognize that look in your eyes. I see it in my mirror every morning."
Her heart pounds so loud he must hear it. "And what am I hunting?"
Dante's smile is beautiful and terrifying. "The same thing I am. Justice."
He extends his hand. "Dante Ashford. And you are?"
Raven takes his hand. The moment their skin touches, electricity shoots through her. His grip is firm, warm, possessive.
"Raven Black," she lies.
"Liar."
Her blood turns to ice. "What?"
Dante leans closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Your name isn't Raven Black. It's Raven Blackwell. Former detective. Framed for evidence tampering three days ago by her fiancé and sister. Currently unemployed, desperate, and standing in my ballroom wearing a wire that's transmitting to Luna Park's laptop at warehouse seventeen on the docks."
Raven can't breathe. Can't move. Can't think.
Dante pulls back, still smiling. "Now let's try this again, Detective. What are you really doing here?"