Another terrible feeling came over him, and he looked toward the metal bin where women were expected to throw their period paraphernalia. He opened it up. It must have been cleaned out right before the event because there were no pads or tampons.

Only Dawn's iPhone X.

"Sir, you're not supposed to be in here!" voices called out behind him before he could fully process what had happened. "We're going to have to ask you to leave."

Victor's jaw tightened, but he let the security guards escort him out, not just from the restroom but the entire party.

Dawn's father was standing near the entrance as the guards directed him to leave. Of course.

"See you later, Vic," he called out with a mocking wave before making his way back into the party with a man Victor recognized as a Texas senator.

So no, this wasn't the Providence Town Hall all over again. This time Dawn had really left. Disappeared, without a trace.

Victor waited for her at the Providence house, but she never returned home. Nor did she come back to RhIDS to finish the rest of her semester. He had his men look everywhere for her, but, they couldn't find her.

Victor was losing his mind. Her father's words kept echoing through his head. "You had her again, and you lost her without me having to do anything."

Where was she? Was it somewhere safe? Kuang still hadn't made his move, but he would someday soon, and it killed Victor to know she was somewhere unprotected. Hiding from him.

On day four of the search, Phantom finally called him on FaceTime with a break in the case.

"I got a lead on where she is," he told Victor without saying hello.

"Where?" Victor demanded. Wherever it was, he had to go to her now. Do whatever it took to make this right.

"I'll tell you, but I'm warning you right now…" Phantom shook his head ruefully on the other side of the FaceTime call. "You're not going to like it."

35

DAWN

I'd been wiling away my life in the past for so long, but now….

Now, I'm living in the present.

And my new present includes a critical visit to the compound of Luca Ferraro, the Ferraro don. But the Ferraros are a lot different than how I remember before Dad moved us all to Japan when I was fourteen.

Back then, they'd been the Italians who demanded an envelope of cash every month from my Korean grandparents. I think maybe they had a nice house in Elizabeth or some middle-class burb like that.

But as this guy named Matti drives Byron and me up the winding driveway of Luca Ferraro's place in Alpine, New Jersey, I can see they've seriously stepped up their game. My hands itch for my sketch pad as I gape at their large multi-building stone and dark wood estate.