This audiobook is narrated by a digital voice.

The rain drummed against the tall windows of the antiquarian bookshop as Elena Marchetti carefully turned the pages of a fifteenth-century manuscript. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the cramped aisles, where leather-bound volumes stood sentinel against the encroaching darkness of the October evening. She had been working late again, losing herself in the ancient texts that filled Bokhaven, Copenhagen's most prestigious rare book dealership.

Elena had moved to Denmark three years ago, fleeing a life that had become too complicated, too dangerous. Her expertise in medieval manuscripts and Renaissance art had earned her a position at Bokhaven, where she could disappear into the world of illuminated texts and forgotten histories. The irony wasn't lost on her that someone trying to escape her past had chosen to work exclusively with artifacts from centuries long dead.

The brass bell above the shop door chimed, startling her from her concentration. She glanced at her watch – nearly nine o'clock. Far too late for customers, and Henrik, the shop's elderly owner, had left hours ago. Elena felt a familiar chill of apprehension, the same instinct that had kept her alive during her previous life as an art authentication specialist for Interpol.

"We're closed," she called out in Danish, her accent still carrying traces of her Italian heritage despite years of practice.

Footsteps approached through the narrow aisles, deliberate and confident. A man emerged from the shadows between the towering bookshelves, and Elena's breath caught in her throat. He was tall, perhaps six-two, with dark hair that looked as though he'd been running his hands through it. His eyes were the color of storm clouds, and they seemed to take in everything about her in a single glance. He wore an expensive black coat that spoke of wealth and sophistication, but there was something about his bearing that suggested he was accustomed to danger.