Layla Bright morning sun cast a golden glow over the sprawling Marcello estate as I stepped out of Aldo’s car and onto the flagstone driveway. The manor loomed up over me like a harbinger of doom cast in a breathtaking sheath of stone and carved marble. Reminding me, as if I needed the reminder, o
Or maybe it was the way Aldo smiled at me, his grin wide and white and so very much like the Vasco I once knew. “Don’t get cocky until you can do it ten times.” Ten became twenty, became fifty. My shoulders ached from the backlash—both the good one and the bad. But confidence swelled like a balloon
Layla I pulled in a deep inhale, squared my shoulders, and stepped through the door into the hospital. As a doctor this time, not a patient. Back where I should be—but still, my heart raced as the familiar hum of the lobby washed over me. Could I really just return to my life as if nothing had
“Fate.” “Destiny.” I turned my head to look at him sideways. “It feels like fucking destiny. Like we were meant to be together. But …” “You’re not together,” Carlo noted dryly. “What would I do without you around to finish my sentences?” “Drink more, I suspect.” I laughed, but didn’t feel
Layla I’d always prided myself on my independence. Before Vasco, I’d crafted myself from a country girl into a big-city med student. And after he dumped me on my wedding day … Well, I picked myself up by my bootstraps and rebuilt my life—my self—brick by brick then, too. And Aldo, this new vers
He was trying to buy my love, and I was afraid it was working. One evening, I sat in my office filling out charts—I was actually able to take time to do this, since Marco’s absence had been filled by not one but two doctors—when a low male voice spoke from the door of my office. “Hey, Layla.”
Layla I’d agreed to dinner with Aldo at the estate simply because I was home and I had to eat. Might as well let someone else cook for me for once, right? If the payoff meant including Aldo in the family meal … I could live with that for a night. It wasn’t like Aldo’s personal chef wouldn’t be w
Aldo I leaned against the hood of the old Corvette, my gaze fixed on the soft line of trees around the lake as I tried to clear my mind. Lately, my usual distractions—guns, fighting, and cars—weren’t working. My mind kept drifting back to … The slight rasp of a throat clearing dragged me back fro
The estate bustled with movement: Marcello men arming themselves, strategizing, talking shit, waving proverbial fists at the enemy, posturing, preparing for war … All the things men did. But still, they awaited my command.I stood at the head of the table in the grand dining room, where a makeshift
Fear.Shit.“Where is he?” I demanded.Carlo jerked his head toward a nearby room. “The doctors are with him now. It was bad, Layla. The explosion took out half the building. We were lucky to get him out alive.”I nudged past him and into the room.Aldo lay on the hospital bed, his face pale, a deep
LaylaAldo had missed another dinner.Or, rather, he was in the process of missing it. I sat at the head of the long dining table, where he’d normally sit; for some reason it felt wrong to leave it vacant. Beside me, Eli pushed food around his plate with his fork, and on his other side, Vanessa lean
EthanI, once again, found myself at the precinct long after the rest of my desk-mates and cohorts had vacated for the night. I mean, the police precinct was never truly empty—it was New York City, so the place was always hopping—but the difference between day shift and night shift was, well. Night
EthanI got to the coffee shop far earlier than was necessary—close to an hour before Vanessa and I had decided to meet—and proceeded to sulk in the corner like a loser, downing coffee.I’d long since stopped smelling the fresh-baked goods layered behind the glass counter, and I was far too nervous
“But I’m funny and charming,” Ethan said, with a smile that was indeed quite charming. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for not being able to resist.”I groaned, trying very hard not to smile myself. “This is the worst flirting I’ve ever seen.”“It’s not flirting!” Ethan protested, lifting his hands in
Layla“Just talk to him,” I insisted, giving Vanessa’s hand another little tug towards the door of Ethan’s clinic room. It’d been three days since the attack, and he was just about recovered at this point. “You’ll see he’s not a bad guy.”After I’d all but written Ethan out of my life, I couldn’t fo
So, I wondered, which of those secrets had made him Rossetti’s target?And how has Rossetti learned them?I turned in my seat to regard Ethan. He met my gaze like he knew I was about to ask something of dire importance and seriousness. “How did he know?”Ethan’s dark eyes blinked against the pain.“
AldoThe call came late at night, shattering the fragile quiet that had settled over the Marcello estate. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, jarring me from a restless sleep. Instantly awake, I reached for the warbling device. Pressed it to my ear. “Marcello.”“There’s been an attack,” came the low