Chapter 1

Three years ago, I started telling people the world’s No. 1 assassin was my husband. As a con artist with more enemies than money, I needed something to keep me alive.

Luca Moretti made his name at fifteen. He’s the Moretti crime family’s best killer, feared throughout the underworld and known for being utterly ruthless.

I’ve used his name from Georgia to Pennsylvania. Luckily, he’s never shown up to expose the lie.

Until tonight.

Nico Bellini, fifth on the assassin rankings, corners me in a narrow hallway at the Bellmont, one of Philadelphia’s most expensive hotels. His men block the way out, and there isn’t a window I can reach.

With his knife inches from my throat, I squeeze my eyes shut and shout, “I’m Luca Moretti’s wife!”

Nico stops and looks toward the staircase behind me. “Luca? Since when are you married?”

I turn to find a tall man in black coming down the stairs.

Of all the hotels in Philadelphia, I had to pick this one.

“I’m not—” Luca catches sight of me, and the rest of his denial never comes.

“Luca?” Nico prompts.

“She’s my wife.”

“You got married and didn’t tell me?”

“Why would I need to tell you?”

Luca steps beside me and takes my hand, his thumb brushing my fingers. “Did they scare you?”

Yes, but you scare me more. I’ve never met you in my life.

“So I should tell Bianca?” Nico asks. “You know how she feels about—”

“There’s nothing between Bianca and me.” Luca squeezes my hand. “There’s no other woman, sweetheart.”

Nico puts his knife away and offers me his hand. “My apologies, Mrs. Moretti.”

I shake it before he can change his mind.

“We came to collect a bounty on a con artist. A liar and a thief, according to the people offering it. Obviously, there’s been a mistake.”

“Yes, definitely a mistake,” I agree.

“We’ll leave you to it.”

Luca nods, and Nico leads his men out through the lobby.

Unfortunately, my supposed husband stays right beside me.

“Listen, about what I said—”

Luca reaches toward my face, and I flinch, expecting a blow. Instead, he plucks a dry leaf from my hair.

“There’s something you should know,” he says seriously. “I’ve lost my memory. The last five years are gone. I didn’t want them hurting you. But what you said... Are we really married?”

So he has amnesia. No wonder he’s being so gentle instead of killing me.

I let my lower lip tremble. “Of course I am. My name is Ruby. Three years ago, you were badly hurt, and I took care of you. You promised to marry me if you survived.”

Tears gather in my eyes as I warm to the story.

“We fell in love while you were recovering. We exchanged vows in an abandoned chapel in Georgia, just the two of us.”

“We’ve been married for three years? You really love me?”

“Of course I love you! You’re my husband.”

“I love you too,” he says with a smile.

Thank God. He’s buying it.

“Then why aren’t we together?”

“Because you’re Luca Moretti,” I say through my tears. “And I’m just some girl from a small town. Everyone said I wasn’t good enough for you. I couldn’t bring myself to face you.”

“I must have been a real bastard,” he says, drawing me closer. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You won’t have to worry about any of that.”

I’m already calculating how soon I can leave town when he lifts my hand and leads me toward the stairs.

“It’s late, sweetheart. You’ve had a rough night. Let’s go to bed.”