Rain hammered the rear courtyard of the Moretti mansion when the third professional handler made the same mistake as the first two.

He pulled harder.

Brutus refused to move. The massive black Cane Corso planted his paws against the wet stone, lowered his head, and released a growl deep enough to silence every armed man standing beneath the covered terrace.

"Forward!" the handler commanded, his voice cracking with tension.

Brutus twisted violently toward his left shoulder. The handler cursed and tightened the leather lead. Brutus snapped at the air.

Twenty feet away, Roman Moretti watched without moving. At thirty-nine, he had built his reputation on stillness. Other men shouted when they wanted obedience. Roman simply looked at people until they remembered exactly who controlled Chicago's most powerful criminal organization.

Beside him stood Matteo Raldi, his security chief of nearly twenty years.

"He's becoming unpredictable," Matteo said, shaking his head. "We should remove him from active duty."

Roman's expression remained cold. Brutus had guarded him for four years. The dog had detected an armed intruder. Survived an ambush. Once remained beside Roman for nine hours after a car bombing. Brutus did not become unpredictable. Something was wrong.

Nobody had discovered what.

Nobody except perhaps the woman carrying towels across the courtyard.

Emma Hayes stopped beneath the archway. Thirty-one, dressed in the simple charcoal uniform worn by the mansion staff, she had worked for Roman for eight months and learned quickly that survival inside the Moretti estate depended on understanding what not to notice. Private meetings. Armed visitors. Bloodstained shirts disappearing into laundry bags. Cars arriving after midnight.

Emma noticed everything. She commented on nothing.

But Brutus was different.

The handler pulled again. Brutus twisted left. Emma frowned. Left. She lowered the towels onto a bench.

"Stop pulling him."

Every man turned. Matteo's face hardened immediately. Roman looked at Emma.

The handler laughed nervously. "Excuse me?"

"He's telling you something."

Matteo stepped forward. "Miss Hayes. Return to your duties."

Emma should have obeyed. Instead she watched Brutus.

"He isn't trying to bite him."

The handler stared at her. "He nearly took my hand off!"

"No. He turned toward his shoulder before you reached him."

Matteo exhaled impatiently. "You're a maid."

"Yes."

"Not a canine specialist."

"No."

"Then leave."

"Let her speak."

Roman's voice was quiet. Matteo stopped instantly.

Emma looked toward her employer. Black suit tailored to a blade's edge. White shirt. Silver watch. Rain blew beneath the terrace roof and darkened one shoulder of his jacket, but he seemed unaware of it.

"What do you see?" he asked.

Emma swallowed. "Every time someone pulls the leash, Brutus turns toward the same place."

Roman looked at the dog. "Show me."

The handler pulled. Brutus twisted left.

Roman's gaze sharpened. Emma approached slowly. Brutus watched her. She stopped several feet away and crouched.

"Hey, handsome."

Matteo looked almost offended by the softness of her voice.

Brutus's ears shifted. Emma extended an empty hand. The Cane Corso stepped toward her and pressed his muzzle against her palm. She waited, then touched his neck. Nothing. His shoulder. Nothing.

Her fingers reached the padded edge of his new leather harness.

Brutus flinched.

Emma stopped immediately.

"There."

Roman stepped closer. "What?"

"Something hurts."

She slid two fingers carefully beneath the padding. A hard object pressed against the lining. Emma frowned.

"This isn't supposed to be here."

She found a loose seam and worked one fingertip beneath it. Brutus remained perfectly still. A moment later, she pulled out a black object smaller than a quarter.

Roman took it. Matteo leaned closer. His face changed.

"A transmitter."

Silence consumed the courtyard. Roman looked toward the gates.

"Lock down the estate."

His men moved instantly.

"Nobody leaves. Collect every phone. Search every vehicle."

Emma stood. Brutus remained beside her. Roman stared at the device in his palm.

"Someone has been tracking him."

"Maybe."

Roman's eyes lifted. Emma immediately regretted speaking.

"Maybe," she repeated. "We know someone put it there. She glanced at the transmitter. We don't know why."

Matteo scoffed. "It's a transmitter. Why else would someone hide it?"