Chapter 2

2.

Mom was waiting on the sofa when I got back to the Long Island estate.

She saw my red-rimmed eyes and shot to her feet.

"Alia? What happened? Did Julian humiliate you at the party again?"

She sighed. Her hand was soft and warm against my cheek.

"All these years, and Julian still blames me. My husband protects me, so I'm fine. But you... you have to deal with his moods every single day. It breaks my heart."

My own mother didn't know about me and Julian.

All those times she'd comforted me over the years, I'd been gloating inside. Secretly thrilled that I was already his woman. I'd convinced myself I could heal the hate between them. I'd even dreamed of us becoming a real family.

What a pathetic, one-sided fantasy.

The vicious words Julian had spat out tonight had just ripped my delusion to shreds.

I scrubbed a hand across my eyes.

"It's nothing. Just the wind in Manhattan. Stung my eyes."

Mom and my stepfather, Salvatore, were deeply in love. I wasn't going to wreck her peace for my stupid mistake.

Mom's shoulders sagged with relief. "Good. As long as you two can just stay out of each other's way, I can relax."

I choked back the ache in my throat, wished her goodnight, and fled upstairs. I locked my door and slid down the cool wood until I hit the floor.

The tears finally came.

I never imagined the romance I'd been drowning in for five years was nothing but a calculated, mafia-style execution of revenge.