It feels a little strange as I look around the hotel ballroom, visually measuring the space for tables, a dance floor, and a stage. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything public as myself. When Jacob was alive, it was always all about him. I was arm candy and never had the opportunity to speak to the public. Now, I’m planning on a big coming-out party for the Broken Angel Foundation, the name that I decided on with a little help from Kendra, of all people. Too bad she isn’t the kind for this sort of event.

Still, I need to go public with all the pain I went through, and the Foundation is the best way to do it. With a smile, I decide this room is just perfect, and I give a nod to Nikolas, the best event planner in the city. “Nikolas, this is it. This is where the Foundation starts.”

Nikolas, a great roly-poly bear of a man who’s put on parties for everyone from Katy Perry to the Queen of Norway, nods excitedly. “Agreed. We’ll get the date reserved and begin booking the vendors for a rush gig.”

I chuckle at Nikolas’s thinking of it as a rush gig. I get it, he normally works with timelines of ‘this time next year,’ but the past two months have been nearly excruciating to me. With most of Jacob’s estate tied up in probate court as the governmental cronies who are still smarting over his death drag their heels, I’ve felt like the past month’s been a decade long. Thankfully, not all of Jacob’s assets are off-limits to me, and Ryker’s been more than helpful. “Nikolas, I’m sure if anyone can get it done, it’s you.”

He puffs out his chest, threatening to burst the buttons on his shirt, smiling. “Planning a gala in three months’ time is crazy, to be quite frank, but yes, if anyone can do it, I can. Now are you sure about getting a crowd?”

I nod, smiling. “You know, I was worried at first, but it’s that time of year in Hollywood where there’s no awards shows on the calendar but everyone wants to keep themselves on the front page. And surprisingly, more than a few of my old Hollywood associates are willing to make an appearance.”

Nikolas grins. “Then first things first. Invitations will go out within a week so we can get on everyone’s social calendar. Can you get me a list of guests you’re inviting by then?”

“I’ll have it sent over by the end of the day,” I reply, grinning.

Nikolas nods before basically twirling away from me, phone already to his ear, listing out orders as he walks out to set the date with the hotel representative. It’s funny to watch a man who’s about as wide as he is tall move so gracefully, almost waltzing around the space as his creative mind already imagines things that will exist here in three months.

With a smile, I head outside, the excitement of making the foundation a reality buzzing around me in a happy cloud. There’s still a ways to go. I barely have access to a million of Jacob’s money, but it’s a start.

“I wish Ryker were here,” I murmur to myself as I give the grand ballroom a final look before going out into the lobby. He wanted to come, but today is about the Foundation, and I wanted to test my strength. Since Jacob’s death, I’ve had Ryker, Marcus, or Kendra everywhere I’ve gone. I want to make sure that, before I put myself forward as a survivor, I’ve actually survived. So I insisted on coming down here by myself, taking a taxi from the penthouse.

As I cross the lobby, I think about all that I still have to do. Mr. Green set up a meeting with the local archdiocese, and they’ve got a property that he says can be turned into the shelter site. “It’s a good deal,” he told me yesterday. “The archbishop gets to do more charity work, and they also get to partially offload a building that they couldn’t do anything with.”

I understand that part, at least. Most of the big Hollywood movies nowadays are collaborations between studios, everyone pitching in to be able to claim part of the glory or to defray the costs of a bomb. I’m hoping the meeting goes well and we can get the construction crews in the building to take care of renovations within the next few weeks. Winter is coming, sooner than the weather would lead me to believe, and I want the shelter open before the holidays, if possible.

Leaving the hotel, I’m walking around the corner, lost in my mental checklist of what I still have to accomplish over the next few days to make sure this charity ball gets off on the right foot, when I feel a cold hand on my shoulder. I spin around to see a broad-shouldered man who’s nearly bursting out of his suit. In his mid-fifties, he’s got the almost visible aura of dangerousness that I’ve come to detect in too many people in my life. He’s eye to eye with me, but considering that I’m over six feet in the heels I’m wearing today, he’s not short at all. He’s crowding into me, sneering as he stares at me with a familiar distaste that I’d hoped I’d never see again.

Stepping back, I quickly put a name to his face. “Viktor, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since Sal Francisco’s funeral.”

Viktor—I don’t know his last name—is one of those men who could scare me nearly as much as Jacob could. He’s just the kind of man who doesn’t see other people as human beings but as animals to be consumed. With a grumble, he steps closer to me again. “Shut up with that, bitch. You can’t do this, you know.”

“Do what?” I ask, trying to keep my voice strong but knowing it’s coming out in a terrified little squeak.

Viktor’s sneer grows, and he reaches inside his suit coat. I’m worried he’s got a gun in there, but after a moment, he pulls his hand out, a business card in his hand that he tucks into the belt of my dress. “Jacob ran this city with an iron fist. The last thing we’re gonna let happen is some bitch plaything fuck everything up. He didn’t build his organization so you can go play Debbi Do-Right. He’s dead, and as I’m the one he was grooming to take over if something happened to him, that makes me the new boss of this city. Not that punk-ass street rat you’re shacking up with right now. Me.”

The ice in Viktor’s unhinged eyes chills me. I tear my eyes away to look around, realizing that we’re alone on the street and he’s cornered me in an alcove. I’d taken a wrong turn, not sticking to the main streets but turning down a side street.

Looking back at him, I feel my heart begin to tremble again, and my brain starts to darken with the demons that I normally only have to face at night. Still, I remember Ryker and draw strength from his image. “Look, Viktor, I don’t really know anything about Jacob or your work with him. You want to try and take over his organization? You’re welcome to it. I’m just glad I’m free from him and that I’m with Ryker now.”

As soon as I say the name ‘Ryker’, I know I’ve made a mistake. Viktor’s face turns red and a little vein pops out above his eye. His hand is too fast to even detect as he grabs my throat, not full-out choking me but pushing me against the side of the building we’re next to, putting pressure that scares me as he slowly lifts me. My air’s being forced from my lungs, the blood pressure building in my brain as he presses upward until my toes are barely touching the ground.

Viktor’s hissing like a cat, ranting in his scratchy voice so much that I can only catch a few words over the pulse pounding in my ears. Black flowers begin to bloom in my vision as he tries to lift me higher, my hands doing nothing as they pull down on his arms in a panic. “Little fucker . . . who does he think he is . . . get what’s coming . . . won’t even see it . . . mine . . . fucking city is mine.”

In a desperate move, I stop trying to grab his wrist and weakly claw at his face, regretting that I’d cut my fingernails short. Still, something catches Viktor’s attention and he snaps back to me. He lets up, dropping me to hack and cough. I want to go to my knees, but I try to be strong even as I lean against the building for support. He leans in close, growling.

“You tell that little fucker that this town, it’s mine. His collection of street hoodlums can’t handle what I’m gonna bring against him. If I have any problems out of him, maybe I’ll take a play from his book and take his woman.”

He grinds his hips against me, and I recoil in disgust, wiggling to try to get away. I’d love to punch him in the balls, but I’m racked by another cough and my legs feel like they’re going to collapse. Still, I work up the nerve to speak.

“He’s stronger than you. He won’t be frightened by you or by anyone you think you have on your side. He’s the king now, and there’s only one future for you. Either you run, or you’re going to end up in an unmarked grave.”

Viktor chuckles, stepping back and adjusting the buttons on his suit coat. “Let him try. Oh, and Sarah, one more thing.” I look up at him, just like he knew I would, and it happens so fast that I don’t see the backhanded slap coming. I just feel the pain explode in my cheek and across my face as I see stars and the blackness takes me.