Prologue

May 17, 1995

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

2:45 AM

Annette Lima was gorgeous. That hardly mattered, though; her brain was her truly defining characteristic. It, however, along with her body and soul belonged to Chen. Chen Visconti. He was the father of her baby, and in ten minutes they were about to find out the gender.

"Querida, you okay?"

"Chen. You're worrying over nothing. It's birth; I've been through worse."

"Ha. I sure as hell know that. Remember Kosovo?"

"That Serbian bitch had it coming."

"Babe. You drugged her, wrapped her in a box, and left her on the door step of a human trafficker. I don't think anyone deserves that."

"You left out the fact that she was his rival in the trade. An eye for an eye."

"Makes the whole world blind."

"Shut up."

"What?"

"No. Shut up. Someone's coming."

Chen reached for the gun in the back of his jeans, while motioning for Annette to do the same. There was a shadow under the door, but Chen and Annette were highly trained. They weren't worried.

"Chen, do you smell that?"

"The hell?"

Ann froze. The baby kicked. It was coming any second now and she knew it. The shadows under the door moved. Vanished. So did the accompanying smell. Ann and Chen sighed in relief. She pushed and pushed. The baby let out a wail. The shadows came back. They froze. Ann and Chen froze. Chen grabbed the baby girl, injected her with a light sedative, and placed her in the tiny ventilation shaft in the room. Davenport would find her when he arrived.

There was smoke in the room. It covered the room in an ominous fog. Ann and Chen were fading in and out of hazy consciousness. The door opened and two shots resounded, followed by retreating footsteps.

Twenty minutes later and 9 year old Davenport Visconti entered the room. He found a baby in the ventilation shaft. My name is Marilyn Annette Visconti and that baby girl was me.