Rebecca woke with a start, the morning sun slanting through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the DeLuca mansion. Her hair was mussed, strands clinging to her forehead from a night spent pacing and fretting, and her eyes snapped open, sharp and alert. She shoved the blankets off, feet hitting the polished marble floor with a thud, and immediately noticed the lingering scent of orchids and the faint residue of champagne from last night. Her pulse quickened. 

Something was… ...