On paper, Rosa Lenoir had very much become a missing person.

Her main phone line was disconnected. The burners were out of order as well. The fancy loft leased under her name in the 9th Arrondissement had been empty for weeks. Information on her last known whereabouts led to dead ends. No one had been able to catch a glimpse of her.

None of her old clients.

Not Mesrine.

Not even a certain bastard with devil-black eyes.

The very bastard who had been ready to sacrifice his life just to keep her by his side.

Thirteen days ago, Rosa simply vanished into thin air like a goddamn ghost. Around the same time that she disappeared, interestingly enough, a woman with striking golden eyes, dark curls, and beautiful brown skin checked herself into a penthouse suite at a five-star hotel.

To the front desk, she introduced herself as Eve Davies by giving the clerk her passport and black card. Nervousness gleamed from amber eyes. Her hands were restless. Her voice carried a soft stutter. She presented the picture-perfect image of an eccentric woman whose main worry in life centered on avoiding human interaction as much as possible. Sweet and awkward. Polite but shy.

A reclusive socialite of sorts.

The staff were charmed by this meek, bumbling beauty, and they were more than happy to comply with her every whim when she proved to be a very generous tipper. Within minutes, the clerk handed over the key to her private elevator. He sent a personal butler, a man by the name of George Jones, who would be on call twenty-four-seven, to assist her for the duration of her stay.

As they approached the elevator, an armed security guard stood to the side of it. He stopped them both to examine the butler's hotel badge.

Eyeing the guard up and down, she inquired anxiously, "Can anyone access this elevator with the right ID and key?"

"Of course not, there is a rigorous three-step security process that requires an ID check, a key, and a fingerprint scan," answered George, gesturing to the guard. "This is Lionel Briggs, a former SAS officer and currently one of our top security guards. In addition to scanning ID badges, he has already memorized the names and faces of the hotel staff and guests you provided to our concierge service earlier. Rest assured, we're placing the utmost importance on securing your privacy and safety. Only you, Miss Davies, and trusted staff and guests will be granted access to this elevator. Lionel will bar any and all other individuals from entry."

So, a dark thought crossed her mind, unless someone went through the trouble to impersonate hotel staff or chop off her finger, this elevator should remain inaccessible to intruders.

These security measures were impressive, but certainly not impenetrable. Outwardly, though, she kept a serene expression on her face while slipping a £100 note into George's palm and then another £100 note into Lionel's pocket. "That is good to know. Thank you so much for your help, gentlemen."

"Thank you kindly, Miss Davies," Lionel murmured in humble tones.

If she was to turn this hotel into her homebase and hideout, it was imperative to rally the staff on her side. Money was the quickest way to buy someone's loyalty in a short amount of time.

She bowed her head. "Think nothing of it."

"I'll do everything in my power to make your stay as pleasant and peaceful as possible."

With a pretty blush, she smiled becomingly. "Merci, Lionel."

The butler, on the other hand, accepted her offering with a far more opportunistic expression. "It is our pleasure to serve you. Please let us know if you need anything else."

Brushing past both men, she stepped into the elevator and activated the shaft by pressing her thumb on the fingerprint pad. After both doors slid shut, the elevator began its ascent to the top floor of the hotel. The doors opened straight into her suite.

Alone at last, Eve's demure smile shifted into Rosa's slightly calculating smirk. She stepped out and took a cautious look around. The views alone reminded her that life was too short to live like a peasant. She was fucking done with shitty motels. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened to a private balcony that provided a jaw-dropping visual of the whole city. Marble floors and gold leaf accents made the space grand as fuck. Practically fit for royalty. The thread counts on the bedsheets felt luxe and buttery on her body. There were even jacuzzi tubs in two of the three bathrooms.

Not only was this particular hotel located in one of the poshest neighborhoods in London, it also possessed the know-how and resources to safeguard VIP guests as though their identities were national secrets. Presidents, foreign dignitaries, and celebrities were regulars on their exclusive list of clients. Their top-of-the-line security ticked all the boxes on her wish list. The security system. The trained guards. The fingerprint checks. The multiple evacuation routes from her penthouse. One of which included a rooftop helicopter service.

A bitch could never be too careful, non?

Especially when there were two obsessive, dangerous criminals on the loose, trying to hunt her down for very different purposes.

After settling into her suite, Rosa went straight to work.

Her first order of business?

Preparing an unsigned thank you card for Mrs. Vitale.

She owed her new life to the woman, after all. Eve Davies' official documents and bank accounts had truly been a godsend. It made her movements untraceable for Mesrine and Cristiano. As a result, Mrs. Vitale had won over some of Rosa's trust, which was why the card also served a second and even more important purpose.

Ambitious schemes had been brewing in Rosa's mind.

In the card, she gave Mrs. Vitale the number to one of her new burner phones. Giving a stranger the power to contact her certainly was risky, but there was no way to track her location on these old brick phones, and they were easy enough to discard if Mrs. Vitale sold her out. Rosa was counting on Mrs. Vitale's soft spot for throwing lifelines to broken women. With her considerable influence and power, she could easily lend a helping hand with Sienna and Angelina's rescue, and that alone was why Rosa was willing to take this dangerous leap of faith. She was desperate to build a partnership of sorts with the ex-mafia queen.

Within the hour, the concierge delivered the card via a private jet. It was set to arrive later in the afternoon. While waiting for Mrs. Vitale's response, Rosa called for a personal shopper to procure a whole new wardrobe. Unlike the bold and vibrant designer pieces she used to wear, Rosa decided that Eve's taste ought to be much more subdued and discreet. Beiges, creams, and grays became her preferred color pallet. She needed to be the opposite of eye-catching.

While waiting for the new wardrobe to arrive at her doorstep, she checked her inbox and saw a peculiar email from an anonymous sender. Even though there was no name signed at the bottom of the message, Rosa knew, instantly, who had sent it. The email had come from an old friend. One of the few people she kept in contact with under her new identity: Harrison Murray.

Harry.

His intel network was simply too valuable to give up.

from: [email protected]

to: [email protected]

subject: fyi

Did you know that Antoine Fischer is missing? Finn Bonheur hasn't been sighted in weeks, either. You should look into it.

Right away, Rosa's stomach sickened at the sight of these names. Disgust churned within. They triggered gruesome memories. She was happy that they were missing. She hoped Antoine and Finn were corpses in a ditch by now.

Years ago, Antoine Fischer was the fucker who had purchased her virginity when she started working for Mesrine. He was the first man she ever took to bed, and he'd been brutal, vile, and utterly despicable. She'd felt like killing him afterward and then killing herself.

Meanwhile, Finn Bonheur had been one of her regulars. A sadistic fuck who took pleasure in hurting her. He'd nearly choked her to death once. Despite the fact that she'd been coughing up their safe word over and over again with each gasping breath.

Since arriving in London, she'd been paying Harry an arm and a leg to keep her informed about shit that might be relevant to locating Sienna and Angelina.

Why did Old Harry feel the need to bring these assholes to her attention?

There must be a reason behind it.

Perhaps, there were clues tied to Antoine and Finn that might lead to Sienna or Angelina?

Harry never did anything without purpose. She'd have to investigate the cause behind their disappearances as soon as possible.

That afternoon, as Rosa was trying on a beige-colored dress paired with a matching beige peacoat, a much-awaited notification chimed loudly in her suite.

Was it Harry again?

Or could it be Mrs. Vitale?

Without hesitation, she abandoned her drab new ensemble and dove for her phone.

Unknown Sender: How thoughtful of you to send me a card... Eve.

Rosa immediately texted back: It was the least I could do.

No answer.

She prodded: Have you had a chance to consider my... proposal?

An eternity seemed to creep by before her phone chimed again.

Unknown Sender: I admit, your proposal intrigued me. I'm sorry to hear about your friends. I'd like to help them. But I can't commit to anything until you give me more details.

She readily provided more details: Their lives are in your hands. I only need your help at the wedding. After the wedding, I promise to never bother you again.

Another nerve-wracking pause ensued.

Unknown Sender: Tell me what you need, and I'll see what can be done.

Rosa replied: I'll send you my plans later this evening.

Unknown Sender: Very well. I'll be waiting.

Right as Rosa thought their conversation was over, her phone flashed with another notification.

Unknown Sender: One more thing.

Brimming with curiosity, she prompted: Yes?

Unknown Sender: I thought you might be interested to know. Your other friend has yet to make a full recovery from his GSW. But he refuses to listen to doctor's orders. The man's pushing himself to the limit.

Her other friend was pushing himself to the... limit?

Merde.

Was Mrs. Vitale referring to Cristiano?

She had to be.

But how did she know that he'd been shot?

Was Marcello still spying on Cristiano for her?

It was entirely possible.

Rosa demanded: What do you mean?

Unknown Sender: I suggest that you change your numbers and locations every so often. Or else you might be hearing from him very soon.

Was Mrs. Vitale going to snitch on her to Cristiano?

Merde.

Merde.

Merde.

Rosa pushed back furiously: How dare you threaten me? I trusted you.

Unknown Sender: If I was planning to betray you, would I be warning you right now?

She frowned and texted: I suppose not.

Unknown Sender: You should thank me again for helping you stay one step ahead.

Grudgingly, she typed: Merci.

In spite of her reluctance, the gratitude wasn't feigned. Mrs. Vitale's intel was much appreciated. It gave Rosa the chance to run and hide before Cristiano could catch her. Something inside her clenched with anguish.

Fuck.

Or did she wish to be caught by him?

Rosa's phone chimed once more, and Mrs. Vitale's last and final message that day sent her reeling.

Unknown Sender: I fear you've fucked with a very powerful and unhinged man. Marcello tells me that he's been ripping the continent apart, leaving a trail of broken bones and missing persons in his wake.

Rosa inquired: No dead bodies, though?

Unknown Sender: Not yet.

She remarked: Pity.

Unknown Sender: Apparently, anyone who ever crossed paths with you has yet to escape interrogation. Anyone who ever hurt you is now in grave danger. I've never seen a man so driven and possessed to capture a ghost.

Rosa ignored her hammering heart and tried to play it off: I am sure he will tire of this little scavenger hunt soon enough.

Unknown Sender: I don't believe he'll stop until he finds you.

Truly?

Greedy and desperate, she read the message again and again as though it might fill the void within her.

Marcello was the Vitales' loyal dog.

He wouldn't lie about Cristiano to Mrs. Vitale, right?

Rosa's heart seized up with pain and pleasure as reality finally sank in. Her chest swelled with hope. His voice from not too long ago echoed in her mind.

I would have scorched the earth to get you back.

A wave of dizziness rushed through her. She grew weak in the knees. Rosa felt like laughing and crying as the phone slipped from her grasp. It fell to the cold marble floor with a resounding thud. She needed to run the validity of Mrs. Vitale's claims through Harry first. Rosa took a contemplative pause.

But hadn't Harry's email confirmed that Antoine and Finn were already missing?

Glancing down, she eyed the phone with pure wonder.

What if Mrs. Vitale was right?

Dieu.

Perhaps, the bastard was a man of his word, after all.

Imagine that.

A world where fucking unicorns did exist.