Scarlett's POV
I'm staring at a dead body in Dante's basement when the door opens again.
My screams are still echoing off the walls. I can't stop. Can't breathe. Can't think.
Emily Santos's dead eyes stare at nothing.
"Scarlett, stop!" Dante rushes in, sees what I've uncovered, and his face goes white. "You weren't supposed to see that."
"You killed her!" I'm sobbing now, struggling against the ropes. "You're the Courtship Killer!"
"No!" He drops to his knees beside me. "You don't understand. I didn't kill her. I found her."
"Found her? She's in YOUR basement!"
"I know how it looks—"
"You're a monster!"
He grabs my shoulders, forces me to look at him. His eyes are wild, desperate. "Listen to me. Julian killed her. I've been tracking him, gathering evidence. I found Emily's body hidden in a storage unit he rented. I brought her here to protect the evidence until I could prove it."
"That's insane!"
"Is it?" His grip tightens. "Or does it make perfect sense? Julian is the killer, Scarlett. I've been trying to prove it, but he's too smart. Too careful. So I had to break the rules. I had to become what he is to catch him."
I'm shaking so hard my teeth chatter. "Let me go."
"I will. Once you're safe. Once he's in prison where he belongs."
"You kidnapped me!"
"I saved you!" He stands up, starts pacing. "Don't you see? You were at his apartment. You found his burner phone. You know too much. He was going to kill you next!"
My phone buzzes in my hand.
Dante's eyes snap to it. "Who's texting you?"
"I don't know."
He lunges for the phone but I twist away. He grabs my arm and we struggle. The phone flies across the room and skids under a shelf.
"Give me that phone," Dante says quietly.
"No."
"Scarlett—"
"If you're really trying to protect me, you'll let me go. You'll call your boss. You'll do this the right way."
"There is no right way!" His voice cracks. "I tried that. I followed the rules. And my mother died anyway. The system failed her. It won't fail you."
My heart breaks a little. Despite everything, I can see the pain in his eyes. The trauma. The desperate need to save someone because he couldn't save her.
But that doesn't make this right.
"Your mother wouldn't want this," I say softly. "She wouldn't want you to become what you're hunting."
Something shifts in his face. For a moment, I think I've reached him.
Then his phone rings.
He answers it, his eyes never leaving mine. "What? When? Are you sure?"
His face goes from pale to gray.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes." He hangs up and looks at me. "There's been another murder."
My stomach drops. "Who?"
"A woman named Jessica Chen. Twenty-seven, dark hair, green eyes." His jaw clenches. "She was dating someone she met three weeks ago. He disappeared and now she's dead."
The fourth victim.
"But Julian is..." I trail off. Julian was at his apartment when I got drugged. Or was he?
Everything is so confused.
"I have to go to the crime scene," Dante says. "Rivera will stay here with you."
"You can't leave me tied up!"
"I'll tell him to untie you. But if you try to leave, he'll stop you." Dante heads for the door, then pauses. "I know you don't believe me right now. But everything I'm doing is to keep you alive. Even if you hate me for it."
He leaves.
I'm alone with the body again.
I can't look at Emily. Can't think about how scared she must have been. How much pain she felt.
I focus on getting to my phone instead.
I rock the chair until I tip over again. The crash sends fresh pain through my already bruised shoulder. But I manage to wiggle across the floor to the shelf.
My fingers brush the phone. Almost there.
Got it.
I pull up the texts from the unknown number.
"Did you see her? Emily Santos?"
"Dante kept her like a trophy."
"He's been obsessed with you since your wedding day."
I stop breathing.
My wedding day?
That was six months ago. I'd never even met Dante six months ago.
I text back with shaking fingers: Who are you?
The response comes immediately.
"Someone who knows the truth. Someone who's been watching Dante watch you."
What truth?
"Dante didn't just find Emily's body. He took it. From the FBI evidence locker. He's been stealing evidence from all the murders."
"Check his records. Check what cases he's worked. You'll see the pattern."
What pattern?
"Every victim looked like you, Scarlett. Dark hair, green eyes, same age. And they all died after Dante was assigned to protect them."
No. No, that can't be true.
"He didn't save you from Julian. He saved you FOR HIMSELF."
"Julian was never the killer. Dante is. And you're next."
My vision blurs with tears.
"The door at the top of the stairs. Rivera left it unlocked. He's one of the good guys. He suspects Dante too. RUN."
I stare at the message.
This could be a trap. The mysterious texter could be lying. Could be the real killer trying to make me trust them.
But what if they're telling the truth?
What if Dante is the monster and I've been wrong about everything?
I have to try.
I rock the chair until the ropes loosen enough to slip one hand free. It takes forever and my wrist bleeds from the rope burn. But finally, I'm free.
I stand on shaking legs and run to the stairs.
The door is unlocked, just like the text said.
I push it open and find myself in a house. A normal house with furniture and family photos on the walls.
I see a photo of Dante with an older woman. His mother, probably.
But there are other photos too.
Photos of women with dark hair and green eyes.
Photos of me.
Taken outside my apartment. At the coffee shop. Walking in the park.
Photos from six months ago. From my wedding day.
Dante in the crowd, watching as Marcus left me at the altar.
He's been stalking me since the worst day of my life.
I run for the front door.
It bursts open before I reach it.
A man in an FBI jacket storms in—Agent Rivera, I assume. "Get down!"
Behind him, someone else enters.
Julian.
He's alive. He's here. And he's holding a gun.
"Scarlett, get away from Rivera," Julian says, his voice urgent. "He's working with Dante."
"No!" Rivera pulls his own gun. "Stay back, Cross. You're under arrest."
"For what? Trying to save her?" Julian's eyes meet mine. "Scarlett, I know you found the burner phone. But those texts weren't from me. Someone planted that phone in my apartment to frame me."
"Liar!" Rivera aims his gun at Julian's chest.
"Check the phone records," Julian says quickly. "The texts were sent when I was with you. At restaurants. At my gallery opening. I have receipts, witnesses, everything. I can prove it wasn't me."
My head is spinning.
"Dante killed those women," Julian continues. "He's been obsessed with you since your wedding. I've been investigating him for weeks. That's why I disappeared—I was gathering evidence."
"Shut up!" Rivera's hand shakes.
"The burner phone was his way of framing me. Making me look guilty so he could isolate Scarlett. So he could have her all to himself."
"I said shut up!"
A gunshot explodes through the room.
Someone screams.
Julian drops to the ground.
Blood spreads across his chest.
Rivera stands over him, gun smoking.
Then he turns to me.
And smiles.
"Sorry about that," Rivera says. "But he was getting too close to the truth."
My legs won't work. I can't move. Can't scream.
"You're wondering if I'm helping Dante or if I AM Dante's partner in all this," Rivera says conversationally. "The answer is neither."
He reaches up and pulls at his face.
It's a mask.
A realistic, perfectly crafted mask that peels away to reveal the face underneath.
A face I know.
A face that makes my world shatter completely.
Marcus.
My ex-fiancé. The man who left me at the altar.
"Hello, Scarlett," he says softly. "Did you miss me?"