Chapter 2

Thinking back now, I was so stupid.

Did I really think a woman who was an artist could threaten the boss of New York's biggest crime family?

The reality was, as I walked all night in the winter rain, my Louboutins rubbing my ankles raw and my fever spiking to 103... as I curled up waiting to die in a cheap motel on the Lower East Side, Vince didn't even send anyone to look for me. He flew to Sicily with Bella that same night.

A picture of him adjusting her gun holster and a video of her kissing his cheek on tiptoe spread through the family's encrypted chat groups the next day.

It was sickeningly ironic.

I couldn't help but let out a cold laugh.

Seeing my expression, Vince suddenly yanked his hand away from my wrist.

"I'm tired of repeating myself, Ava," he said, his voice turning cold. "Bella’s father was loyal to my father. I look out for her because of that. Nothing more."

"It's just a mark on your neck. Put some Neosporin on it. It'll be gone in two days."

His eyes grew distant. "Stop imagining things between us. You're being paranoid."

I saw the chill in his eyes, and a bitter feeling rose in my chest.

Not for him. For that foolish woman in my past life.

In my past life, after I left him, the cancer tormented me beyond belief.

The chemo side effects made me vomit blood every day. When the pain hit, I would claw at the walls until my fingernails broke. I lived in a moldy basement in New Jersey that cost four hundred dollars a month and didn't even have heat.

I was so broke that I even went to a pawn shop to sell the engagement ring he gave me―a three-carat black diamond Tiffany custom piece engraved with the Costello family crest.

The pawn shop owner offered five thousand dollars. I stared at that ring for a full ten minutes before putting it back in my pocket.

When the doctor told me I had a month left, I dragged my eighty-pound body onto the Long Island Rail Road for a two-hour ride back to the estate.

I told myself he had once knelt in the blood of my parents and sworn to protect me for the rest of my life. Maybe… maybe he still remembered.

But when the guard announced me, Vince's voice came through the intercom, as calm as if he were talking about the weather.

"She made her choice. Tell her to leave."

I knelt outside the iron gate, my forehead pressed against the cold metal bars.

"Vince, please…" My voice was so hoarse I could barely speak. "I'm dying. I just want to… see you one more time."

Only static came from the intercom.

Then he hung up.

I knelt there in the snow until all the warmth left my body.

In my final moment, I saw him and Bella in the rose garden. The roses were David Austins I had ordered from Portland, the ones I pruned and fertilized every weekend.

They clinked the Waterford crystal glasses I had chosen, and then they kissed.

In that moment, the death of my heart hurt more than the cancer.

Now, I quickly composed myself.

"I'm not jealous, Vince," I said calmly. "And I'm not mad at Bella."

"I'm just tired. I need some space." I looked at him. "You should get back to your guests. It's your anniversary party, after all."

A flicker of shock crossed Vince's face.

He probably didn't expect me to be so calm.

Without another glance, I turned and walked toward the night-shrouded driveway.

The estate's security lights cast my shadow long behind me.

I heard him call my name, but I didn't turn back.

This time, I just want to live.

Nothing else matters.