Daphne Calloway spent four years buying coastal properties for a private equity fund. She never read the file end-to-end until the night her partner sold her out, and she was taken off a hotel rooftop and dropped on a Chesapeake marina in front of a werewolf alpha named Teodoro Marchetti.
The fund is a bratva front. The properties all came from Teodoro's pack. Daphne is the CFO who signed everything, and the only person who can testify to what the deals actually were. Teodoro won't hurt her-he'll hold her on a refitted fishing boat until the deals can be unwound on the record. He just won't let her off it.
Six weeks in a stateroom she can't lock. Six weeks of terms, of building the fund's ledger from memory in pencil on the back of a menu, of watching Teodoro's brother map the escape routes at family dinner. When the bratva comes for the marina, Aldo opens the gate from the inside-and Daphne gets to the radio and testifies on tape from the deck, for ninety minutes, while the marina burns.
Two months later there's a sailboat, and a man who has never once asked her for anything.
