She Was Only a Dog Trainer Trying to Heal a Traumatized Shepherd — Then the Mafia Boss Who Owned Him Made Her the Key to Surviving a Deadly Betrayal

Chapter 2

“The collector remembers Pier 9,” I said, and my voice came out steadier than I felt. “He’s collecting interest, starting with things you keep close.” I hesitated, then pushed on, because observation was the job and the job was all I had. “He took my photo. He knew about my mother’s medical bills.”

Roman’s expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room did. The air got thinner, the way it does before a storm breaks.

“Show me your log.”

I unlocked my phone and handed it over without asking how he knew I kept logs. He read it the way he’d scanned the room — methodical, unhurried, missing nothing.

“You noticed the plate number.” Not a question.

“Partial. The angle was bad.”

“You documented his watch.” He looked up, and the full weight of his attention settled on me like something with mass and heat. “Cracked crystal on a real Rolex means he’s sentimental or careless. Both are useful data points.”

I forced myself not to look away, even though every instinct told me that holding eye contact with a predator was a mistake.

“You wrote that Luna reacted before he entered the room.”