What happens when the line between a detective and a criminal disappears? Detective Isabel is a redhead with a spitfire reputation and a "girl boss" attitude that has made her one of Chicago's finest. She's used to working within the rules-until a shadow from a dark past forces her to break them all. Ivan is a man the law never could reach. A survivor of a brutal Russian syndicate, he's a living weapon with a code of his own and a debt to pay. He doesn't want redemption; he wants the man who stole his childhood. When their worlds collide over a shared enemy-the legendary and ruthless "Ghost"-the result is a high-octane explosion of wit, protective banter, and raw survival. From the neon-lit bars of the West Loop to the desolate, frozen heart of a Siberian black-site, Isabel and Ivan must decide: Are they partners, or are they just two people holding the same match to a world they're both ready to burn down? "Sixteen times," I heard Ivan's voice, a low, guttural growl that made the hair on my neck stand up. "You shot Elias sixteen times while he was tied to a chair. You wanted to see how much a soul could leak out before it vanished." I stole a glance over my shoulder. Ivan was a stranger. He had a jagged shard of the crystal chandelier in one hand and a service knife in the other. He wasn't going for a quick kill. He was painting the obsidian table with the Ghost's life, strike by calculated strike. "Ivan, please!" I choked out, my vision swimming. My hand was clamped over my ribs, the emerald silk of my dress soaked with blood. "I can't hold the door! I'm losing it, Ivan!" The sight of me-slumped, bleeding, but still holding the line-seemed to snap the tether. Ivan delivered the sixteenth strike, a final, brutal punctuation mark to his past, and let the knife clatter to the floor. The Ghost was a heap of broken, silent silk.